Southampton's maritime and Thornycroft Shipyard in Woolston

Where families now stroll, shoppers browse, and office workers meet, there is hardly anything left to tell you of the area’s previous incarnation. It's a scene of modern life, of glass and steel, a far cry from the industrial landscape that once dominated this corner of Southampton's waterfront. 

Yet, beneath the surface of this contemporary development, beneath the foundations of new homes and businesses is where the ground throbbed with the energy of industry and innovation. 

Here, where apartments and restaurants now stand, gunboats that policed a vast empire and the Royal Navy warships that defended the nation were born, all thanks to the skill and sweat of generations of Southampton workers.

At one time, this was a place of intense activity, a stark contrast to the calm residential and commercial atmosphere of today. 

Read more: Explosive battles to hilarious blunders 20 years ago at Fort Nelson

An army of men sweated in foundries, their faces lit by the glow of molten metal, a scene unimaginable amid the modern offices of today. 

They moulded huge sheets of steel, bending them to their will, transforming raw materials into the sleek lines of ships, where today families might enjoy a leisurely meal. 

They climbed among the metal ribs of vessels as they took shape on the slipway, their hammers ringing out a percussive symphony of creation, a sound now replaced by the gentle hum of traffic and the chatter of pedestrians. 

This was a place of grand launches, where military bands played "Rule Britannia" and crowds gathered to give three cheers as new vessels were eased into the water for the first time, their polished hulls gleaming in the sunlight – a spectacle of pride, a celebration of craftsmanship and national prowess, now replaced by the everyday comings and goings of a modern community.

Now, only the ghosts of fitters’ mates, plumbers, coppersmiths, and boilermakers from a far earlier age might wander among the new buildings, perhaps pausing by the waterfront where the busy quayside once stood. 

Memories are all that remain of Southampton’s once-rich shipbuilding heritage, a legacy that is slowly fading from living memory, obscured by the new landscape. 

This was where Thornycroft’s yard once stood, a name synonymous with quality and innovation. 

Later, it became VT after the merger with Vosper, but the spirit of the place remained the same, even if its physical presence is now erased. Generations of local craftsmen, drawn from the surrounding communities of Woolston and beyond, spent their working lives here, creating some of the greatest names in commercial and naval shipping. 

Their hands shaped the steel, their skills honed over years of apprenticeship and experience, their dedication a source of immense local pride.

It was in 1904 that John I Thornycroft, a visionary engineer and businessman, made the strategic decision to move his business from Chiswick on the Thames to the Woolston site. The Thames, though historically significant for shipbuilding, was becoming increasingly restrictive. 

Read more: The area of Southampton which lost its high street - where did it go?

Woolston offered more space on shore, and the river was wider, allowing the company to build larger, more ambitious vessels. This move marked a new chapter in the company's history, and in the history of Southampton itself, a chapter now completely overwritten by redevelopment.

The First World War brought a period of intense activity to the shipyard. The demands of the war effort meant that hours were long and work was hard, pushing both men and machines to their limits. 

With many men away fighting on the front lines, women were taken on to fill their roles at the yard, stepping into jobs that had traditionally been the exclusive domain of men. This was a transformative moment, not just for the shipyard, but for the women themselves.

For many women, working at Woolston was a liberating experience, a chance to break free from the constraints of traditional gender roles and contribute to the war effort in a meaningful way. 

One of the first women to be employed at the yard once recalled her experience: “I was here at Thornycroft’s making parts for Lewis guns. We had some jolly good times there, good happy times. Night work was the best because we used to have sing-songs right through the whole shop. It was fun to us to be on munitions. We didn’t really take it seriously like they do now, with the bombs and all that.’’ 

The inter-war years of the 1920s and 30s brought economic hardship and uncertainty. The Great Depression cast a long shadow, and many workers at the yard were laid off, facing unemployment and hardship. 

The situation was further exacerbated by a major fire that broke out at the yard in 1927, causing significant damage and disruption. 

A former employee vividly remembered the event: “Then they had a big fire down at Thornycroft’s, didn’t they? To be nosey we all had to go out and have a look to see what it was. We had hosepipes all over the road. It caused an awful lot of damage. It’s the first time ever I’ve seen a place like that on fire.’’

The approach of the Second World War, like a gathering storm, brought a sharp increase in work at the yard. 

Once again, the nation looked to its shipyards to provide the vessels needed to defend its interests. As men went off to fight, their jobs were filled by women, mirroring the situation during the First World War. However, many jobs became "reserved occupations," meaning that men in those roles were exempt from military service, recognising the vital importance of their skills to the war effort.

Read more: Don't be a dinlo! Brush up on your Southampton lingo

One worker who was there during the war recalled the gruelling conditions: “In those days you were expected to work a 60-hour week. You were allowed one Sunday off in seven weeks, if it was permitted.’’ 

The women workers, once again, played a crucial role throughout the war years, contributing their skills and labour to the production of vital ships and equipment. 

When peace finally returned, their contribution was recognised and praised by one of their male colleagues: 

“Through the war we had hundreds of women, doing a wonderful job. Welding, doing all sorts of jobs in the factory, in the shop, in the fitters’ shop. Oh yes, if it hadn’t been for the women they would have got nowhere. They don’t know what they owe the women.’’ 

Apprenticeships were the cornerstone of the shipyard's workforce, a system that ensured the transmission of skills and knowledge from one generation to the next. 

Apprentices usually started at the age of 16, embarking on a five-year journey of learning and practical experience before they could become journeymen or tradesmen. 

At the start of his time, an apprentice signed his indentures, a formal contract that bound him to the company and outlined the terms of his training. 

One former employee recalled the strict conditions: “On the indentures I wasn’t allowed to have a girlfriend or stay out late. If I lost time I had to make it up before they would give me my indentures and my tradesman status and pay. There were quite a few conditions. Today it would send the European Court of Human Rights into a spin, but nevertheless we had to do it.’’ 

In 1982, the workforce again answered the call of the nation as tensions escalated in the South Atlantic following the Argentine invasion of the Falkland Islands. 

The shipyard was tasked with preparing the passenger liner Canberra for military service, a crucial undertaking that required rapid and intensive work. 

One worker vividly described the scene: “Canberra was going to come in and she was going to be requisitioned for the Falklands’ campaign. From Monday, right through ’til Thursday night we never came off that ship. We worked day and night fitting metal sections on the middle swimming pool to make a flight deck. By Thursday they were running out of time… they asked for volunteers to finish this on her travels and 26 of us volunteered and we sailed with her.’’ 

Read more: Hampshire's skies remember 1940 and the fight for freedom

The story of Thornycroft's, however, came to a close in the early 21st century. 

In 2002, the decision was made to close the Woolston yard and consolidate operations in Portsmouth.

 The following year, the yard’s gates were locked shut for the final time, marking the end of an era. 

It was a poignant moment, a symbolic severing of ties with a rich and vibrant past, a past that would soon be physically erased. 

The sounds of hammers and machinery, the shouts of workers, the smell of salt air and welding fumes – all faded into silence, leaving behind only memories and the ghosts of those who had toiled there for generations. 

The site, once teeming with life, was cleared, and prepared for a new chapter. 

Now, a modern community thrives where the shipyard once stood, echoes of industrial brilliance in the air.