Lines, Knots & Leaf: Tobacco and the Fishing Industry of Old Scarborough

 

Before the ice cream stalls and seafront amusements, Scarborough’s heartbeat was cast out over the water — tugged in with each haul of herring, cod, and mackerel. Long before tourism built its empire of hotels and bandstands, it was the boats that made Scarborough a town of pride and grit.

I walked the Old Pier this morning — gulls wheeling, the scent of diesel and seaweed rising with the sun — and thought of the men who worked these docks a century ago. The herring girls, the net menders, the lads with salt in their blood and rope burns on their palms. Hard men. Honest ones. And more often than not, men with a plug of twist tobacco in their cheek and a hand-carved pipe stowed in their oilskin pocket.

The Lifeblood of the North Sea

By the mid-19th century, Scarborough was one of the most important fishing ports on England’s east coast. At its height, over 200 fishing vessels operated out of the harbour — from long-liners and cobles to the more powerful steam trawlers that emerged in the 1880s. Boats like The Rely On, Summer Rose, and Star of Hope were common sights in the bay, their sails like salt-worn ghosts on the horizon.

Fishermen worked without rest during the herring season — hauling nets through sleet and salt wind, their hands raw, their backs permanently bent by the labour. To keep them going, many chewed tobacco — not as indulgence, but sustenance. Twist tobacco, in particular, was favoured for its strength, compactness, and the long-lasting burn it offered once coiled into a pipe.

The Rope That Travelled With Them

Twist tobacco, sometimes known as ‘spun’ or ‘pig-tail’, was pressed into tight, rope-like coils, perfect for stashing in a sea chest or oilskin. Scarborough’s fishermen favoured the strong, dark varieties that could withstand cold sea air and offer real nicotine comfort.

One such tradition survives to this day in the Kendal Black Irish Twist — a proper full-bodied rope, strong as an east coast gale, cut from the same cloth (or leaf) as those smoked aboard the Providence in 1893.

For those who wanted an even mightier hit, the Kendal Black Irish XXX Extra Thick Twist offers a density and depth that would have been favoured by the older deckhands — the pipe clenched between their teeth while they repaired nets by storm lantern.

And for the more frugal or mobile hand, the Kendal Black Pigtail or its lighter sibling, the Kendal Brown Pigtail, provided smaller twists — often cut with a penknife and stuffed into a tin along with salted herring and rye bread.

A Smoke on the Quay

Between hauls, the quay would fill with a low fog of tobacco — not industrial, but intimate. Conversations passed between boats, smokes shared from weathered flake tins, the faint scent of twist and tar mingling with the gutting stations. Some preferred flavoured blends when off-duty: the Kendal S-Type Aniseed Twist was known among a few old timers for its spicy edge, while the Kendal S-Type Apple Twist made the rounds after payday pints at The Golden Ball.

These weren’t just smokes. They were tradition, fortification, and ritual rolled into rope.

From Harbour to Hearth

Today, the fishing industry has changed — fewer trawlers, fewer lads learning the ropes. But walk the harbour and you’ll still feel it. In the rusted bollards, the smell of brine, the names carved into wooden benches. And in the twist tobaccos still available today, we taste the past in every puff or chew — the strength of men who faced the North Sea with a coil of dark rope in their pocket and not much else to warm them.

So light a bowl of twist this evening, perhaps beside a plate of fresh haddock or a mug of tea. Let it speak of Scarborough’s past — not just its beauty, but its muscle.

🖋️ — The Backy Chronicler

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