Stephen ‘Booie’ Boocock – Fishmonger
Stephen was in the same school year as me. We weren’t the closest of mates, but our paths crossed often. We went to the same karate club and spent plenty of time fishing around the harbour. I vividly remember one afternoon on the fish pier when somebody tripped over a fishing rod, tumbled into Stephen, and sent him straight into the harbour.
Thankfully, the tide was in.
Stephen didn’t have far to walk home in his wet clothes. He grew up above the fish shop on Sandgate, where his parents ran the business after buying it in 1986.
As we got older, our paths diverged. Years later, after opening Furbellow & Co., I found myself seeing Stephen most mornings as he unloaded fish outside the very same shop. Today he runs the business with his wife Louise — the girl from the sweet shop across the road.
Some people seem to have Whitby woven into their story. Booie is one of them.
Alongside running the family business, he served as a volunteer lifeboat crew member for almost twenty years. Like many locals who help keep the town running, you tend to see him at the edges of the day — early mornings before the crowds arrive, or evenings after they’ve gone home.
Sandgate Seafood is well known amongst visitors to Whitby. During the summer months people queue for dressed crab, shellfish platters and fresh local seafood. They see the stocked counter and the tubs displayed in the window.
What they don’t often see is the person behind it all.
By the time most visitors are wandering down Sandgate deciding what to have for lunch, much of Booie’s work has already been done. Fish prepared, orders sorted, deliveries made and the counter stocked for another busy day.
Booie always seems busy, but never rushed. Just getting it done.
Visitors know the seafood. Locals know Booie.
Whitby is full of people like that. Booie is one of them.
The Team Bus
Sunday mornings growing up meant rugby.
Away games usually involved a minibus or a coach journey. The team bus was a place where we could socialise with teammates who didn’t go to the same school as us. The banter was real, and the songs we sang and the amount of sweets we ate would have made our parents cringe.
There was always a marked difference between the journey to and from the match. The nervous energy before kick-off, combined with the early start, usually led to a quieter journey. The mood on the way home was influenced by the result. The songs and laughter were always louder after a win. The knocks and bruises always hurt more on the way home after a loss.
Two things never changed. The smell on the way home — damp kit, muddy boots, partly showered teenage boys and Lynx Africa. And that uncomfortable feeling when you’ve drunk too much for the length of the journey, followed inevitably by a chorus of, “Stop the bus, I need a wee!”
Surviving the journey was sometimes as much teamwork as the game itself.
Our son now plays rugby, but things have changed. Away games tend to mean parents driving players. The team bus isn’t a place he knows well. As I write this, however, we are all on a bus to Twickenham to watch the play-off final.
It was a very early start and it took a while for the banter to begin, but we’ve just been treated to a rendition of Barbie Girl. Not a song I remember singing, but I think they’re getting the hang of this. There are already enough sweet wrappers on the floor to rot my teeth. I can’t help thinking they’d have even more fun if there were fewer phones.
The coach has air conditioning and a toilet. Things have definitely changed.
The bonds between players were forged on the pitch, but tempered on the team bus.
The EAトCO Nulu Butter Knife
I hate trying to spread cold butter.
Life’s too short to wait for it to soften.
It’s been far too hot to leave it out.
But I love a product that solves a problem as simply and as elegantly as this.
A row of diagonal holes replaces the flat blade of a traditional butter knife. As the cold butter is pressed through them, it softens and aerates, creating cute little butter worms that are far easier to spread than a solid block straight from the fridge.
Made from stainless steel in Japan’s renowned Tsubame-Sanjo metalworking region, it’s a lovely example of thoughtful design. The angled tip reaches the corners of the butter dish with ease, while the serrated edge is perfect for scraping the burnt bits from your toast.
I discovered the Nulu Butter Knife at Community Cutlery, a wonderful little kitchen and knife shop in Ilkley. Alongside a carefully chosen range of products, they also offer a knife sharpening service and even teach people how to sharpen their own knives.
If you enjoy beautifully designed, genuinely useful products, their shop and website are well worth a visit. Their Instagram is genuinely informative and entertaining.
From Our Shelves
Beautiful
Filey Bay 10th Anniversary Whisky
A marriage of ex-Bourbon and Madeira casks, including spirit from Cask 001. Only 2,016 bottles were produced, and we were fortunate enough to secure 12.
Useful
Secrid Wallet
Compact, secure and brilliantly practical. So many customers recommend them to friends that they almost sell themselves.
Made Properly
Forged in Gravy T-Shirt
Hand-printed in Leeds by Sean at Right Nice Stuff onto organic cotton. Great design, proudly made in the north.
