Poem by Alastair Shiach. A tribute to Geordie Stewart read at his retiral party at New Stanley House in 2008.
A man from Stanley we’re here to cheer
One and all from far and near
Rich man, poor man, laird and gentry
Have come on pushbikes and a Bentley
It’s Geordie Stewart we’re here to greet
A man of character to be sure
Never lost for words or stories
Fishing tales in all their glory
Some are long and of times muddled
But sure to end with “Toodle Puddle”
A quiet man, not at all
Like John Wayne but no’ as tall
Into the ring to make his mark
Putting opponents on their back
Undefeated, a fine example
With a few black eyes from Bobbie Campbell
Despite his fitness and loads of courage
In latter years he had his worries
One day while trying to start his engine
In his chest there was loads of twinging
Doctor Doctor was his exclamation
I really need an examination
What can be the explanation
Surely no’ an operation
A quick fix for Geordie would be no use
For Geordie was suffering from self-abuse
Into the hospital he did go, the surgeons put on a terrific show
They cut bits out and darned things back
But could he now fish the Slap
And Margaret cried “will he be alright”
The Doctors said “I think he might”
What is sure his mind is fuddled
He keeps on repeating Toodle Puddle
His Stanley days are many in number
Fifty years if I remember
Fishing, fighting, ducking and diving
That’s when Geordie is usually thriving
Dugs and horses, turkeys too
Geordie breeds them and sells to
Folk just like you
His customers come from far and yonder
To look in his freezers a thing of wonder
The turkey king is what they call him
Working hard from dawn to dusk
Up and down that road to Smithy’s
Fattening them up for everyone’s Chrissie
Never know to dilly dally
In fact, the original Arthur Daley
The road he uses an awful lot
One day he’s sure to run into Arnott
With squeal of brakes and skid of steering
Some muttered words, not very endearing
Watch the corners it’s not a race
If you don’t watch out you’ll flatten Furnace
Driving like that has got to stop
Or we’ll have to get Margaret with her lollipop
A transit van comes doon the track
It’s Willie Toonsley coming back
He’s been to Perth and Blairgowrie rakin’
For floating devons or bits to make ’em
Willie! Willie! get up tae Catholes
The tenants waitin’ he booked on Google
The hut’s still lockit, the boat’s at anchor
It’s a bloke called Joe, a bit of a …….”expert”
I’m in no rush old Willie growls
I’ll get one at Benchil after hours
Enough of that lets ponder awhile
Of fishing, shooting and living in style
We all have memories we’d love to share
With family and friends and many mair
Of Geordie’s exploits and days of luck
But most of all when we have been wound up
For what is sure he is the master
We regularly call him an irritating bas….rd
Salmon days are long and hard
With fish not biting it’ll drive ye mad
His chatter brightens up yer day
In freezing March or blooming May
Passers by can only stop and gloat
For we’ve got a telephone exchange in our boat
Tales of fishers, relatives and bosses
With Mike Smith featuring in most of the stories
Roddy Dickson and Jimmy Chim
Of endless days of drinking Gin
A fish or two in fading light
Or if you’re lucky one up the pipe
One things for sure there is never a lull
And if there was he’d catch you with a pull
He makes you look a proper muppet
Shouting loud, I’ve went and struck it
Trudgin’ the banks a weary task
With mud and boulders it ain’t a blast
But Geordie’s empire is on the tiller
Recalling stories of Mr & Ms Miller
He is on the oars or anchor rope
Geordie’s the guy to give you hope
They say the man is quite a shot
If you are a goosie you have had your lot
Squirrel, rabbit sometimes a shag
If that gun’s loaded it’s in the bag
For pete’s sake Geordie what about some warning
A bang goes off, all heads are bowed
These 12 bore cartridges are bloody loud
One thing’s for sure
You’ve brought us fun, and laughs and tears
For Geordie is the life and soul
He is great company if the truth be told
To finish this story would not be right
If I did not mention Bobby White
Geordie’s son-in-law and right hand man
Has Geordie got a dynasty plan?
But looking at young Bob’s reaction
I think he is driven to near distraction
With Geordie’s constant incessant banter
It could be mistaken for a bagpipe chanter
Ye’r late, ye’r late he calls each morning
Debbie’s pinched the car, he’s doing the ironing
Chalk and Cheese is best how to describe them
Two brilliant chaps is everyone’s opinion
Those 50 years are in the past
Such wonderful memories are sure to last
Great names of fishers in times gone by
Are fondly remembered with bait and fly
The names of Buxton, Miller and Wragg
Whose catches appear in the fishing mags
Their names live on as Angling Legends
With the name of Stewart, the man who helped them
The gentleman’s gentleman
Always there at the double
Happy to oblige, nothing too much trouble
Geordie Stewart………………
“Mr Toodle Puddle”