Fist of Destiny : Memoirs of a Martial Artist by Karl Lancaster - HTML preview

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Chapter Seven - Essex Boy

I was an Essex boy now, albeit an unemployed one living with his in laws! But with pressure on both Kay and I to find a job and our own place we were both soon commuting up to London on a regular basis.

Kay managed to get herself a job doing accounts near Fenchurch Street. While I landed a job with the British Library as a clerk. Neither were mind boggling positions, but they did pay a wage. And initially I had the good fortune to be working at the British Museum, a place I had always loved.

After a couple of silly letters and a couple of phone calls I had patched things up with my mother, and eventually I took the time to pop back and see her. She hadn’t been idle. Despite avoiding the pub scene in my earlier years she had in my father’s later years, started to join him for a drink most evenings. It had been nice to see them out together after so many years of separation and bad feeling, and it was kind of cool to be able to bump in to my both mum and dad in the boozer sometimes.

Since my father’s death my mother had continued to go to the pub and had met a guy called Bob Rayner. By the time I popped in to see her Bob had moved in and they were living together. The first meeting was a bit odd and I think we were both very wary and unsure of each other.

Bob was nothing like my dad, and at something like 15 years my mum’s junior wasn’t even older enough to be my father. He was short with dark longish hair and tubby. He worked for London Underground as an escalator engineer. He had been married before and already had several kids of his own too.

All that said he seemed a nice enough guy. And indeed he was. And he obviously idolised my mum. My mum and Bob would eventually marry and he would go on to be the best step father anyone could wish for.

Once I was back at work and earning some money I could go back to Aikido. But things had changed there in my absence and Phil had started to run things. Even the style had changed a bit and we were now affiliated to Shodakan Aikido with a direct link to 7th dan, and head of the system, Sensie Nariyama. He visited Phil’s new club and helped establish the spin off from Tomiki Aikido in this country. I was one of the founder members of the style in the UK, but to be honest I found some of the new techniques and the more sporty approach less appealing than the system we had trained in before.

There is no denying Nariyama is a skill martial artist and a nice guy. And he had the full backing of Tomiki to set up his system. But it just wasn’t for me. For those of you who are now thinking 'doesn't he mean Shotokan Karate', no I don't! Shodokan is the latest mutation of one of the branches of Aikido.

Like many martial arts before it, Aikido has undergone several transformations, and like many other systems these transformations often co exist. It's a bit like driving down the road and spotting an Aston Martin DB6, you know that prior to the DB6 there was a DB5 and so on and since the DB6 there has been a DB7,8,9 etc. Of course the latest model will have all the mod cons on it and people will expect it to be the best thing since sliced bread. But some people will argue that an earlier model was faster, or more reliable, or looked better. It's the same with martial arts.

In the case of Aikido Uyeshiba took elements from several systems he had practiced, including Daito Ryu Aiki Jutsu, and formulated something new. Notice I say new, not better. Having produced this new 'art', he went on to teach other people, including several high ranking martial artist's like Gozo Shioda and Kenji Tomiki. They then took elements of the system and developed it again, thus producing a new sub system. And in Nariyama's case he took the Tomiki system and twisted again to produce Shodokan Aikido.

Karate did the same, and there are now many styles of Karate from Shotokan, considered by many to be the base style to one's yet to be named and still being worked out by enthusiastic black belts. Kung Fu can probably boast that it has more variations on a theme than any other martial art and the styles run in to the hundreds and maybe even thousands.

The big difference these days is you often get people setting up styles and claiming that their system is the best and is so totally new all the old styles look silly in comparison. You only have to look at some of the schools that have been set up to feed the need for mixed martial arts styles required by aspiring cage fighters. Although they often have a claim to legitimacy that many, so called modern, martial artists don’t have, they can prove if their style works in fairly realistic conditions. There are a lot of ’modern masters’, who have never had a real fight, yet claim their new system is the ’dogs bollocks’! At least the older styles and systems can often boast that they have been proved in real combat, in some cases to the death!

So Phil did me a favour, and in return I didn’t rock the boat. He had had an offer to run an evening class in a school near Kings Cross. So he got it up and running and then handed it over to me. I ran that class for over ten years on my own.

It is a scary thing to branch out by yourself and teach everything from scratch. Taking over Irvine's classes had been fairly easy, everything was in place and most of the students already established in what they were learning. The Islington Adult Education presented me with over 30 students one evening and left me to it. Only a couple of them had had any martial arts training before.

I based my classes closely on how I had been taught by Irvine, but as time progressed and the students started to grasp the concept of Aikido I brought other elements in that I had learned with Ahmed and John. And at the end of the first year I still had a dozen students training, most of whom continued in to the second year.

Amongst some of my students were a few who showed promise. James was one. He had foreign blood of some sort, although I never did get to the bottom of what it was, by his look, he was short but fairly stocky with black hair and a square face, I thought it have been Polynesian blood. His youngest son Vince also attended class. He was only about sixteen when he started but he had a problem I had never come across before, he only had the one leg! He had been born with only a stump and had learned to walk with an artificial leg from an early age. Considering the restrictions he had he managed to more than keep up with other people in the class and eventually got his green belt before he left to go to university. His dad stayed with me for a number of years and ended up as a brown belt. Unfortunately there is a bad ending to my association with James and Vince.

I think Vince had been at uni for just under a year when James came to see me and give me some bad news. He and one of his other sons had gone to visit Vince and they had gone for a drive. Somehow the car had gone off the road and flipped over several times before coming to a halt. Because of his leg Vince normally would have occupied the front seat and been wearing a seatbelt but for once he had gone in the back, in the days when rear seatbelts were not compulsory. He had been thrown from the car as it rolled and the car had landed on him and killed him instantly. Obviously we were all devastated, no one more than his father, who I think blamed himself for the accident. James was never the same man after that. And a few years later when a proposed business deal, which would have seen us running a gym come martial arts centre, folded our friendship folded too.

I had other students who stayed with me longer than James, Rob was one. Rob turned up with beard and a ponytail and a tale of having been out of work for a while. He was one of life's less successful characters and he knew it. But he stuck with me for years, eventually getting his second dan and was my leading student. By the time we finished with him the hair was cut, beard gone, he was employed as a carpenter and had a much more positive and outgoing demeanour. I can't say it was all down to me, but I certainly didn't hinder his progress. I still have a sword stand he made for me.

Another one of my early students was John, he had done a little Karate and decided to give Aikido a shot. He also got to black belt and was a regular for some years.

One of my big successes was Eric. Eric was tall, gangly, inept and didn't pick up techniques terribly well but he too got to black belt in the end. As did Graham, a far more practical type and ex TA soldier. When I finally finished with the club I left it in their hands.

In all over the years I graded one person to second dan and five to first dan. But of all those people who trained under me one stood out, and at times for all the wrong reasons.

Noel Reece turned up one night to class, early in the second year of me running the adult education classes. Noel is one of those larger than life characters who is always ready to make a new friend. He stands about 5'10", stocky build, big nose, gray hair, a few tats and nearly always a big grin. Back in those days he more often than not turned up in motorcycle leathers, for Noel loves bikes, which, is hardly surprising for an ex Hell's Angel!

Noel is one of those guys who throw's himself in to things and that's what he did both in class and afterwards when we went for a quick drink. Most people took to him straight away, but of course there are always a couple of exceptions. And Noel can be loud. Noel also didn't mess around on the mat. And that could have upset one or two people too.

Unlike a lot of martial arts students Noel was a fairly accomplished street fighter, and I couldn't use that in the past tense back then either. After me spending hours on the mat and in the pub trying to instil a certain chivalry in my students, that old samurai code. Noel would turn up eyes downcast and standing on the edge of the mat, telling me he had better not attend class that day as he had let the side down. In other words he had had a fight and beaten the crap out of someone. I rarely turned him away though as it was often six of one and half a dozen of the other, and he had just done what a lot of people wanted to but were just too scared to.

Noel stayed with the class for a number of years and got to brown belt. But he has remained one of my best friends ever since and we still see as much of each other as we can. It's a shame I can't spend more time on Noel in this book, but I would hardly do justice to him as he probably merits a whole book by himself!

Kay and I had been married for about a year when, with some help from my mother, we managed to secure a mortgage on a three bedroom flat in Finches Close Coringham, only a ten minute walk from her mum and dad's! It was the beginning of real married life and proper freedom. But it came with a price. At 17,500.00 the flat was then, a reasonable price but still the mortgage took up half our wages, add to that the train fares and bus fares and it's not difficult to see why, at the end of some months we were reduced to eating beans on toast for dinner!

But things could have been worse and our friends popped around on a regular basis, sometimes a little too regular! Considering we were newly married and newly living alone we very rarely were. Not that we complained much, late night drinking sessions, silly games and deep conversations on anything from the occult through politics and on to sex made life more than interesting.

We got our selves a cat. Well really it was more like helping it out. It was a stray that we took in and like idiots we thought lets get it a friend and purchased a kitten to keep it company. Big mistake as Blackie (who was tabby) hated Scrabble (who was black) on sight. And then to top it off Blackie got pregnant and gave birth to Wriggley. Three cats and we hadn’t been sold on one to start.

Steve and Stuart finally returned from the Kibbutz, Steve having Debbie, a girl from Bradford now in tow. And then another one of the crowd, Paul Newing, purchased a flat just a couple of doors down from us. Eventually another friend, Willy, would also buy one of the other flats too.

With three of 21 flats occupied by our crowd, Stuart only just around the corner and several other members of the gang as regular visitors it wasn't long before we had come to the attention of the local police with some of our silly antics! To be honest most of it was just fun and weren't malicious, just a bit thoughtless and daft. But things did get quite amusing on a few occasions. There was, for instance, the water fight incident.

After yet another fun filled evening in the local Stuart, Paul, myself and a couple of others ended up back in Paul's flat. Paul, for some reason I have never fathomed, decided to start a water fight. It got just a little out of hand and saw us all half clothed and wringing wet, as was most of the flat! Just as we reached the height of the fun I noticed a blue flashing light somewhere below. Of course we went in to stealth mode, which for us, in the state we were in, consisted of turning the lights off and shsshing each other in stage whispers. As this was going on the letterbox flap slowly lifted and a male voice informed us that our shsshing could be heard! It was just one of a number of times the police would pop round to see if we were alright.

On another occassion Paul had a toga party that rivalled anything from the movie Animal House. Kay wasn't too well that night and mainly stayed at our place. But her friend Jan decided that she should keep Kay company for some of the time.

Jan was, in those days, one of those head turners. Blond, buxom, attractive and very out going. One of those girls who walked in at a party and everyone wanted to pull. And she wasn't afraid to be pulled either.

On this particular occasion Jan turned in toga as expected. But as maybe not expected minus any underwear what so ever! A fact I noticed as she rolled around on our living room floor playing with the cats ( we had two back then, although two multiplied in to three, strange as they were both female)?! Later, while Kay sat watching TV I helped Jan adjust her Toga, well that's how it started! It was the start of a little cat and mouse game which never quite went all the way.

Hardly surprising but at 24 and with little previous experience of women I was very much up for everything and anything. And the Jan incident only heralded more interest and several risky 'games'. One such game saw us all swap partners for the night! The idea was just a platonic sleep in but I am sure half the people involved were hoping for more. I got a girl called Cheryl and she certainly got more than she expected.

As time moved on more of our friends paired off and married. One of these pairs were Steve and Dawn. They married and moved in to a house in the very new town of South Woodham Ferries in darkest Essex.

We often went over to them or they came to us for drinks and meals. And it wasn’t long before we played some silly games with them, like strip poker, well actually it was strip cribbage, just as much fun, just a lot slower! But again we stopped just short of going all the way. Although we did go all the way....to Corfu with them on holiday.

But, not long after taking up residence in South Woodham Steve joined a martial art’s club, and was soon waxing lyrical about Ju Jutsu. Of course it wasn’t long before I had to give it a go.