Paul Andrews from Kent Business Radio tells us what it was like to work at Turkey Mill in 'The Turkey Mill Chronicles'
23rd August 2022
Turkey Mill Chronicles - Paul Andrews from BizRadio
Paul Andrews, host of BizRadio, recalls his time at Turkey Mill as a machine room boy and later a dryerman, when it used to operate as a paper mill.
I started working at Turkey Mill in July of 1970 when I was about 14 years old. I lived in Bearsted and had just left Vinters Boys School up the road. Many of my school mates went on to work at Turkey Mill as it was the nearest place to start working, and the bus stop for the school was just opposite, so we knew the Turkey Mill site well.
I applied for a job at the Mill and got called in for an interview, but not like an interview you and I would know today! I was simply lined up against a white wall by the general manager, along with all the other boys, and had my height measured. In the end I got the job as I was the smallest in the line up!
My first job at the Mill was a machine room boy, and my job was to crawl into the machines whilst they were still running and oil the bearings or get rid of any excess water - hence why they wanted me for my small build. It was incredibly hard physical work, but a lot of fun.
The lads who worked at Turkey Mill had great community spirit and we all got on really well, but we would get up to all sorts of mischief…
During the spring and summer months, we would climb over the wall that adjoined Mote Park and go and play football in our lunch breaks. In the ‘beater room’ there were these large metal barrows on wheels, that used to move rags. We would sit in them and push each other down a hill. There was no way of slowing it down, so when we hit the wall at the end it would just throw you out. There were also these large crane hoists which would lift reels, which we also used to attach ourselves to and lift ourselves up into the air like we were on a film set.
The lake at Turkey Mill wasn’t like it is today, and was extremely overgrown. We used to tickle pike and fish, as well as use this old rowing boat, which did eventually sink. It was fun trying to explain to our bosses why we were soaking wet when we should’ve been working!
The running of the Mill was still pretty Victorian and all steam driven. We didn’t have much to do with the managerial team, and we were very much separated. This, as I understand it, is very unlike Turkey Mill today with Dougie being one of the most approachable landlords and based on site!
Some of the older workers liked to joke around with us boys, and would send us on these ‘stupid’ errands, like asking us to line up and ask for some ‘elbow grease’. There was also a lot of rough and tumble, and you did not garner much sympathy if you injured yourself. I was once pushed into a running machine and broke two of my fingers, but instead I was told off for potentially ruining the machine - a far cry from today’s commitment to health and safety.
When I was 16, I got put onto shifts and worked as a dryerman. My job was in the dandy roll room, and I would put the watermarks on the paper. The dandy rolls which I used were almost 200 years old, and used for the French Napoleonic Paper and the 1950s bank notes. The amount of history at Turkey Mill was unbelievable and riveting..
In 1972, the miners strikes and 3 day weeks caused the Mill to shut and we were all laid off in 1973-74. This was due to us being steam driven so we needed coal, and we also couldn’t turn off the machines for the 3 day weeks.
My first wages when I worked there were £8.50 a week. I paid 5 shillings in tax and half a crown in what is now national insurance, and paid £2 to my mum for rent. The rest I would spend on cigarettes.
Looking at Turkey Mill today, it’s fantastic that the owners keep a large part of the heritage - the water still runs, the buildings remain and some of the previous machinery is persevered and on show. But, as a place to work, I imagine it’s a lot more magical with immaculately kept gardens, wildlife a plenty and modern workplaces behind the traditional facades. It’s a joy to return.