Fishwives' Choir's women lost men at sea and found solace by forming a choir

Home Top

'I'm a woman': Tearful Bruce Jenner reveals he considered suicide while transitioning to his 'true self' in Diane Sawyer interview which will be his last as a man
Inside Bruce Jenner's new life as a woman: Reality star shows Diane Sawyer the little black dress in secret closet of women's clothing and reveals plans for 'glam room'
Kris Jenner DID know about Bruce Jenner's transition attempt during 1980s: Olympian confessed to wife because he could no longer hide his 36B breasts
$LOS ANGELES, CA ñ April 24, 2015: Bruce Jenner ñ The Inverview\nOlympian and reality-TV star Bruce Jenner shares and exclusive and wide-ranging conversation with Diane Sawyer.\nPhotograph:© ABC "Disclaimer: CM does not claim any Copyright or License in the attached material. Any downloading fees charged by CM are for its services only, and do not, nor are they intended to convey to the user any Copyright or License in the material. By publishing this material, The Daily Mail expressly agrees to indemnify and to hold CM harmless from any claims, demands or causes of action arising out of or connected in any way with user's publication of the material."\n$ 'Kim caught me in a dress... and Kendall and Kylie did too': Bruce Jenner reveals his children kept 'family secret' and shares touching story of how Kanye West help wife accept transition
Bruce's second wife tells how he thought about having a sex change in the 1980s
Furious Kris Jenner hits out at Diane Sawyer for claiming she did not provide a comment on Bruce - and insists he is her 'hero'
Husband and wife whose two dogs mauled father-of-three jogger to death as he begged for help could be freed from prison in just 19 MONTHS after reaching plea deal
The summer glow diet: Pioneering book by nutritionist the stars swear by reveals the simple steps to looking and feeling fab
Bruce Jenner reveals he is a Republican Christian who is 'not a fan' of Obama in interview announcing he is transitioning to a woman
Baltimore police admit Freddie Gray should have got medical attention before van ride - but commissioner won't resign over his death
NBC investigators look into Brian Williams interview on the Daily Show about his reporting from Arab Spring protests
University shuts down as hundreds gather in support of Playboy Air Force vet who was arrested for tackling flag tramplers
How being attractive can ruin your career: Good-looking men get less job offers because they intimidate bosses, says study
Now conspiracy theorists say there is a 'hidden army' on Mars: Absurd theory suggests a bunker, people and missiles can be seen on the red planet
Woman, 82, dies after 'sister and nephew failed to move her from her chair for six months'
Woman, 25, gave birth in office bathroom, cut the cord with cuticle scissors, then sealed the baby in a plastic bag... and hid it in her desk drawer
Charles' and Di's 'secret daughter': Wills and Harry have an IVF sister living in hiding according to outlandish story gripping U.S... So is there a single scrap of evidence?
Missouri Senator personal assistant arrested for 'trafficking meth and date rape drugs from China to exchange for sexual favors'
William and Kate's pre-baby shopping spree: Duke and Duchess of Cambridge spotted relaxing with some retail therapy in London before arrival of child number two
Eric Holder waves goodbye to the Justice Department after six years as America's attorney general
District Attorney demands investigation into allegations reserve deputy 'who shot and killed suspect with a gun instead of using his Taser' received preferential treatment from colleagues
The moment a hiker gets the shock of his life when the volcano he is filming erupts before his eyes
The baseball player who could be paid $70m to leave his team: After divorcing Real Housewife and drug relapse, Josh Hamilton risks being dropped by Los Angeles Angels
EXCLUSIVE: Now Ben Affleck's MOM reveals mistakes in documentary that censored star's family's slave-owning past as she says she did NOT take part in Freedom Summer or Freedom Rides

Widow Jane Dolby writes how singing help her grieve her husband
Started the Fishwives' Choir after being inspired by the Military Wives choir
Made up of widows across the country who found strength in each other

Published: 19:33 EST, 23 April 2015 | Updated: 05:02 EST, 24 April 2015

View
comments

The events of Monday, November 10, 2008, feel as if they were a hundred years ago, yet at the same time, as if they were yesterday.

That morning, Colin took our daughter Amelia to school and our son Liam to pre-school, before heading off to work for a day’s fishing.

That day, he was ‘weeding’ — raking the seabed for white weed, which looks like pale sea ferns. He would bag it and sell it and it would be dyed and used in aquariums. A lot of fishermen turn to weeding in the winter when the fish have migrated elsewhere.

Scroll down for video

The Fisherman's Wives Choir in Leigh-on-Sea in Essex. Jane Dolby started the group after she lost her husband Colin who drowned, and wanted to reach out to other women who'd faced the same tragic ordeal

Colin Dolby, who died in November 2008 when his fishing boat capsized during stormy weather

‘It won’t be a long day,’ he said as he checked the weather his usual way; looking at the trees to see which way the wind was blowing before checking the shipping forecast. Winter was setting in. There was a real nip in the air.

As he left, I kissed him goodbye. I tidied up the breakfast things and did a bit of housework. At midday, a noise outside caught my attention. I looked out of the window: rain was lashing against the pane and the sky was dark.

The weather had gone from fairly clear to appalling. You would call it a squall — heavy rain and wind, really fierce, wind that can knock you over. A few minutes later a crash came as some tiles blew off the roof. I called Colin on his mobile. His words came in a rush: ‘The weather’s terrible! I can’t talk to you now, darlin’, I can’t talk, I’m trying to lash down everything on the boat. It’s awful out here. I’ll see you in a couple of hours, I’ll be home.’

I wasn’t worried when it got to 3pm and there was no sign of him. He had always warned me: ‘Never set your watch by a fisherman.’

I tried to reach him on the mobile but phone signals are often patchy at sea.

Then, at around four, I had a call from Colin’s sister, Wendy: ‘Colin’s boat — his boat’s not back. We’ve called the coastguard.’ That could mean only one thing: his boat had sunk.

Colin wasn’t a good swimmer but then a lot of fishermen aren’t. Maybe it is because they have spent so much time on the water, they have never bothered going in it. As Colin said, even if you could swim, it would not save you if something went wrong when you were far out at sea . . .

How different the weather had been the first time Colin had taken me out in his boat, Louisa, in August 1997. I was a 31-year-old single mum, divorced, with two boys, Henry, then seven, and Josh, 11, and working in a pub.

I had moved with the boys to Leigh, a pretty little Essex town on the Thames estuary and found a fisherman’s cottage to rent. It was beautiful, 100 years old with roses growing up the brickwork; like something on a chocolate box.

I met Colin through his dad Ken, who lived next door. Colin wore scruffy clothes, a black woolly hat and smelled of fish. He wasn’t my type. My life was about the boys, my church, and I had always loved music, so in the evenings would sing along to my guitar, writing songs.

However, thanks to the efforts of Henry, who took it upon himself to act as Cupid, we became friends. I told Colin I was fascinated by his job as a fisherman. ‘Well, you can always come out on the boat some time,’ was his offer. So we drove one night to the causeway, with its rows of little dinghies. He darted about, grabbing oars and kit, pushed the dinghy into the black water, then passed me a frayed rope. I stood in the moonlight, holding the rope and listening to the water gently lapping.

Aboard, he was a different person. As he moved about the boat, it was like seeing a cumbersome old seal, who shuffled around on land, suddenly flash through the water, a creature of grace and power. I saw a side to him I had not seen in everyday life.

Then, as the sun rose, he kissed me. I knew that night I had found the man I would be with, who I would marry, who was right for me.

He revelled in being a parent to my landlubber boys. We used to take them on the skiff to the Maplin Sands, a huge stretch of mudflats off Essex.

Take a look at the Fishwives' Choir recording their charity...

The Military Wives Choir, led by choirmaster Gareth Malone, inspired by Jane to reach out to other widows with the idea of setting up the Fishwives Choir. 'Just being with the choir was a joy', she writes

After our daughter Amelia was born in November 2000, I didn’t have to take her to the clinic to be weighed as she grew. Instead, Colin used to take her down to the fish market and put her in the fish scales. He’d come back delighted, saying: ‘She’s as big as that massive great cod I got!’

Our son, Liam, was born four years later, a replica of Colin in so many ways, down to his beautiful brown eyes. The six of us had lovely times and I treasure those memories.

The morning Colin went weeding was seven days before Amelia’s eighth birthday. Liam was three.

As the weather deteriorated, the winds gusted up to Force 8. At about a quarter to one, Colin had radioed his father to say he was returning to land because the weather was getting worse but he failed to show up. It was Ken who, desperately worried, called Thames Coastguard at 3pm.

I tortured myself with what agony he might have gone through... What did it feel like to gasp for air, yet have water fill your lungs?

We knew that if Colin had fallen into the water, he had four minutes until cold-water shock set in. And he didn’t normally wear a lifejacket (a lot of fishermen don’t).

It took two days for police divers to find the boat on the seabed, about a mile from shore. Chains were attached and it was slowly winched up, but Colin wasn’t there. Police now described him as ‘lost at sea’. I had to tell the children their dad was dead, that his body hadn’t been found.

I tortured myself with what agony he might have gone through. Was he scared? Had he hurt himself? Was it hypothermia that killed him, as the water was so bitterly cold? Or did he drown? What did it feel like to gasp for air, yet have water fill your lungs? Perhaps he banged his head and, please God, knew nothing about it?

Because we had no body to bury, we held a memorial service, rather than a funeral, and it was performed by the minister who had married us. Without a body, I had no death certificate and, legally, would need to wait seven years before one could be issued.

I was being hounded by creditors demanding proof of Colin’s death and now there was no money coming in.

Then a wonderful charity called the Fishermen’s Mission, which offers support to families like mine, got in touch. At one point, it literally kept the roof over our heads, helping me to fix the tiles blown off in the storm.

The Military Wives choir was formed in 2010 and is made up of wives and partners of the British military. THe group picked up the Classic BRIT award for Single of the Year for song 'Wherever You Are'

‘One day I will repay them,’ I promised myself.

About eight months after Colin’s death, I booked a paddle steamer trip to try to rebuild the children’s confidence around water. My mobile rang and a police liaison officer told me a body had washed up and they suspected it was Colin.

It was as if I had started to recover only to be hit again. There had been something almost romantic, in the real sense of the word, in him being lost at sea, almost poetic, like something you’d read about in a fairy tale.

I wasn’t allowed to see him because there is no poetry in a body that has been under water for nearly a year — I know, because I asked. I had nightmares when I read the coroner’s report and its description of his body.

Investigators concluded that the sheer force of the waves sank his boat. It had disappeared off the radar at the same time as a powerful gust was recorded. Even so, I couldn’t know exactly what had happened.

One small comfort was that Colin was still wearing the gold locket I had given him on Amelia’s behalf (inscribed ‘To Daddy’) the first Christmas after she was born. It was cleaned and returned to me.

However, the real significance of that day was that we were finally able to lay Colin to rest. Where once I might have sung to keep my spirits up, now I found I couldn’t sing. I would get a terrible lump in my throat and, within a few notes, I was reduced to sobbing.

Where once I might have sung to keep my spirits up, now I found I couldn’t sing. I would get a terrible lump in my throat and, within a few notes, I was reduced to sobbing.

It wasn’t until about Amelia’s 13th birthday that I took a step towards tackling this block. I found a singing teacher who gently encouraged me to sing my favourite songs, my voice increasing in volume along with my confidence. I was so relieved that I could do it — it was a turning point. From that moment on, I was able to sing along to the radio, to a CD, without being overcome by tears.

In spring 2012, three-and-a-half years after Colin’s death, I started thinking about the promise I had made in my darkest hour: to repay the help of the Fishermen’s Mission, which had been so supportive after Colin died. But how?

Then it came to me. Just that last Christmas, I had watched the Military Wives Choir, led by the bow-tie-wearing choirmaster Gareth Malone, have a Number One hit with their song Wherever You Are.

They had been put together for the BBC programme The Choir, made up of the wives and girlfriends of men serving in Afghanistan.

My ambitions were much smaller, but I thought: why can’t we have a maritime version — the Fishwives Choir? I would ask a couple of the girls married to fishermen if they would like to record a karaoke-style CD, then we could sell a few and raise some money for the Mission.

I put a message on Facebook asking if anyone would like to join. A couple of days later when I logged on there were dozens of names, and they weren’t all from Leigh; they were from all over the country.

Choirmaster Gareth Malone helped the Military Wives get a Christmas Number 1 hit with 'Wherever You Are'

Each had her own connection to the sea. Sue, from Cornwall, had lost her husband, Brian, when he was angling off rocks in Newquay. His body was found nine days later.

Helen, from Scotland, had lost her husband, Graeme, aboard a trawler not long after their wedding in 2010. Morna, a red-headed Scot, had been just a girl when her father, Donnie, went over the back of his boat. They never found his body.

By May 2012, a month after making my first Facebook post about the Fishwives, the list of potential choir members numbered around 80. All I needed was, well, a song.

I wanted one that combined music that touched fishing and my faith — since Colin had died, I had never leant so heavily on God. I gravitated to one of my old favourites, When The Boat Comes In.

Many know it as the theme to an old BBC TV series of that name but it is a very old fishing community song. ‘Dance to your daddy, my little laddie ... when the boat comes in.’

I also loved the hymn Eternal Father, Strong To Save also called For Those In Peril On The Sea, which we had sung at my wedding and at Colin’s funeral. To me, that is the song of the fisherman, of every waterman.

At first, I tried to get everyone to rehearse together by computer video link but the evening we tried it, as more and more fishwives-in-training started signing up to our video link, there were loads of little squares showing ladies’ faces — all freezing at different points as the computer slowed down and half of them shouting: ‘I can’t hear!’ One woman was standing behind her ironing board! We needed to meet.

Surrounded by women who understood me and, in too many cases, had suffered the same pain, I had found my voice once more.

Our first rehearsal was booked for October 27, 2012, at a church in nearby Shoebury. While not everyone could make it, I was thrilled at the turn-out: one lady had travelled from Plymouth.

Just being with the choir was a joy. I was pushing past my singing block, no longer being reduced to tears after a few notes.

As rehearsals continued, media interest grew. A local newspaper reporter spotted my Facebook post about the Fishwives and, after her article appeared, more Press and radio began to pick up our story. Then The One Show, the BBC magazine programme, came to film us. The producers suggested that Carrie Grant, a vocal coach who had worked on programmes like Fame Academy, should coach us.

When Carrie heard us, she said: ‘My favourite lines you’ve sung so far are: “Oh hear us when we cry to Thee / For those in peril on the sea.” You’ve all got stories to tell. When you sing, that’s got to mean something to you; it’s got to cost you.’

That was when it finally hit us: the reality of what our song meant. What had the sea cost us? We all knew; it was what we had to live with every day as the wives, sisters and mothers of fishermen: the sea’s power, its dangers.

Once more, the piano started up and as our voices swelled together, goose bumps prickled my arms. I was singing a prayer for those in peril on the sea and for my little laddie, whose daddy’s boat would never come in.

Surrounded by women who understood me and, in too many cases, had suffered the same pain, I had found my voice once more. In seeking to repay those who had helped me in my family’s darkest hour, I had received a gift I never expected.

We released our charity CD, performed on breakfast television, heard our song on national radio; we even made number one in the iTunes vocal charts. We Fishwives have carried on our friendship, singing at gigs and festivals. Finding joy in music again is Colin’s final gift to me, but I would still trade every song I’ve ever sung to have him back.

Adapted from SONG OF THE SEA by Jane Dolby, published this week by Orion at £7.99. To order a copy, call 0808 272 0808, or visit mailbookshop.co.uk. For more information, visit fishwiveschoir.co.uk