Whitfield and the Ferries
The History of Whitfield, Kent The village of Whitfield has grown so that it is now physically connected to urban Dover, Kent, yet it has kept its own identity and sense of place. The central core of modern Whitfield was, however, not the original heart of the village; the original settlement was sited at Church Whitfield to the east. Pineham, located to the east of Church Whitfield is a small rural hamlet that is often considered part of the Whitfield community. It contains a small handful of farms and houses..
Putting Down Roots
Selling our little house in Albion Place marked the beginning of another new chapter. With the modest profit from the sale, we were able to buy a modern semi-detached house at 42 Allison Crescent in Whitfield, a quiet village just outside Dover. It felt like the right move — away from the damp, cramped rooms of Canterbury and into a home with more light, more space, and the promise of a fresh start.
While the house was being completed, we lived in a caravan parked in the paddock of The Plough Inn. It was far from luxurious, but it gave us a sense of independence. We learned quickly how to make do with very little. One vivid memory from that time is Sheila’s knitting machine. I can still picture her wrestling with it, muttering under her breath whenever the stitches caught. In many ways, it mirrored our lives then — often tangled, but patiently put back together.
Once settled in Whitfield, I found work with Townsend Car Ferries, initially as a steward aboard Free Enterprise I. The work was steady and, importantly, paid better than the Post Office or the construction sites I had drifted between. For the first time in a long while, life began to find a rhythm.
In 1963, we welcomed our second daughter, Kathryn, who was born at home with the help of a midwife. The house at Allison Crescent, modest though it was, soon filled with the sounds of young children. Paul was thriving, and for the first time, we felt truly rooted.
Not long after, we sold Allison Crescent and moved to 46 Mayfield Road — a more permanent base where our family continued to grow. In 1965, Phillip was born. His arrival was not without drama. The midwife was less than sympathetic, and I remember the fear as Phillip was born with the cord around his neck. Thankfully, both Sheila and Phillip came through safely, though the memory stayed with me long afterwards.
By then, I had been promoted to Second Steward, a role that brought both pride and a sense of security. The work was demanding but honest, and it allowed me to provide for my family with greater certainty than ever before. Paul had started school, Julia & Kathryn were great friends, and baby Phillip lay content in his cot.
For the first time, I could sit at the dinner table, look around at my family, and feel that we had finally laid foundations strong enough to last.
Fatherhood had crept up on me almost unnoticed. Somewhere between early mornings, night feeds, and the simple routines of work and home, I realised I was no longer just reacting to life — I was responsible for shaping it for others.
Fatherhood had crept up on me almost unnoticed. Somewhere between early mornings, night feeds, and the simple routines of work and home, I realised I was no longer just reacting to life — I was responsible for shaping it for others.