A look at the Isle of Wight's telephone invasion

In a land where everyone wasn’t walking around staring at screens all day, for a start.

It all began in 1896, when The National Telephone Company, a private concern funded by shareholders, wanted to set up a national network of telephone users connected to National Telephone switchboards.

They would be installed in towns where enough ‘subscribers’ came forward to make the installation a going concern.

On the Island, in June 1896, the council considered National Telephone’s application for planning permission to put poles up.

A letter was read, stating: “having received the support of some 70 subscribers, agreeing to pay £8 or £10 a year for the facilities, they desired permission to erect poles, such as those used for telegraph wires.

Left: This beast of a pole was in Trinity Lane, Cowes, in the 1970s. It was about fifty feet high, and while it was a doddle for old hands to climb, it was terrifying for a 20-year-old coward like me. They didn’t even use a ladder, they used spiked ‘climbers’ strapped to their ankles, leaving the holes that can be seen. Right: This is Newport, somewhere, probably in the 1920s. It took a ten-man team to erect a pole in those days. The tenth man is the foreman. He’s the one doing nothing. (Image: County Press/Alan Stroud)

“The average height of the poles would be 28ft, and they would be placed 65 yards apart.

“Cllr Hayes said it was not desirable that visitors who travelled the Island should everlastingly have these poles to look at, and he thought the wires should be laid underground.

“Cllr Manning said as to the ‘hideousness’ of the poles, they might be painted any colour – vermilion if they liked – if they wanted to make them ornamental (laughter and hear, hear).”

Permission was granted by the council and the invasion began.

Shanklin was first to have an exchange - with just five customers - and by exchange we mean a switchboard with plugs and sockets, manned by female operators.

In 1983, Colin Fairweather and I recorded Islanders, then in their ‘80s, talking about their childhoods and working lives.

Ever wondered what’s inside those green cabinets dotted around the Island’s pavements Wonder no more. It’s this - revealed when a car piled into one at Newport Road, Cowes, in 1980, completely destroying the shell. (Image: County Press/Alan Stroud)

Among them was George Bolt, a retired GPO telephone engineer.

Regarding the operators of the manual exchanges in the 1920s and ‘30s, he told us: “Well, the people that took the job were paid to have the switchboard in their front room, and they'd get paid by the Post Office.

“They were expected to manipulate the board. They didn't have to sit at it all day; there was bells and alarms and that.

“They could walk away but immediately the bell went, there had to be someone there that could operate the board. Always.

“It was a 24-hour service. It wasn't no eight ‘till five job. She might have to get out of bed at three o'clock in the morning!

“At Chillerton, they had a little farm and the girl out there, Alice; she was a proper country girl, you know, and she used to be off milking the cows and the bell used to go and she used to have to go in with her hands all covered with milk and put the plugs in and answer the board (laughs).”

Did they used to listen in to conversations?

“Well, they probably used to listen, but if they did, they were diplomatic.

“They probably knew a lot of gossip, you know, but it was never used for ill will or anything like that.

“Most of them, they was always helpful.

“For instance, if a farmer wanted to go out, he'd just call the switchboard.

”Hello, miss. I shan't be home now until quarter past four. Anybody rings me, tell them I'm out and take their name, will you?” and the operator used to do it. Service! Act of courtesy to their customers.”

Were phones out of the reach of the common person?

“Oh, Lord, yeah! You was rich if you had a phone. Only the high and mighty had them.

“Businesses and solicitors, and doctors had to have them, but no ordinary person wouldn’t ever have a telephone - unless they had about £10 a week to spare. You couldn’t afford it.”

By early 1897, exchanges in Cowes, Ventnor, Sandown and Newport were under construction, and by 1906 the whole Island was connected.

In 1936, Ryde was the first manual exchange on the Island to go ‘automatic’, followed by Newport in 1938, the building costing £11,000 and the equipment £2,000.

Arreton, Calbourne and Godshill also went automatic the same year.

Other exchanges had to wait their turn, Cowes only going automatic in 1964, and the last manual exchange on the Island, Ventnor, hung on until 1970.

It was located above the former Post Office in Church Street, the name of the current occupant, ‘Ventnor Exchange’, being a nod to the past.

Some old exchanges have been re-purposed. The exchange in New Road, Brighstone, had a new life as a library and is now a church hall.

The old Niton exchange in the square also became a library, until 2015 when it became a community resource.

So, where are we today? Modern advances in phones and computerised exchanges have brought us to the pinnacle of technology.

At the push of a button, we can now lose the will to live while listening to music on hold for 30 minutes trying to reach a human being at banks, utilities or health services, while being told every two minutes, “Your call is important to us.”

I think I’ll hang up now.