Simon Constantine recalls gardening, beekeeping and bonding with men housed on the Bibby Stockholm.
Portland Global Friendship Group and the men at Carey
I live about 25 miles from Portland in Dorset. As a kid I visited the island regularly, it being the site of the world-leading Portland Bird Observatory, where many of our migrant birds make landfall: the first port of call from mainland Europe as they journey from Africa and back again each year. Since then I have established a 3.5-acre walled garden open to the public and, amongst other things, home to the first nesting pair of Osprey in the South of England in 180 years. When I heard that the Bibby Stockholm barge was due to arrive in Portland I reached out to Dorset Stand Up to Racism who were actively protesting ‘the barge’ as it became known. They put me in touch then with a fledgling organisation of local community members who were galvanising under the name ‘Portland Global Friendship Group’ and finding ways to mobilise those in their community to support the men who were beginning to fill the pokey berths of the barge (it had been retrofitted from 220 to 504 capacity before a Legionella scare brought the capacity to 450). They were already busy distributing care packages to the first arrivals and co-founder Laney White wrote me an email expressing interest in some of the men coming to the gardens for a chance to experience something other than the delights of The Range store in Weymouth, where the barge bus service would drop them daily.
On December 17th, just a few days after Leonard Farruku’s passing, a group of 6 men and several of the Friendship Group visited the gardens. We didn’t know what to expect other than seeing if spending time in nature would be of some benefit. Quickly we realised it was. I took the group on a short tour, showing them our orchards, vegetable beds and apiary. When we arrived at the beehives one of the men stepped forward and before I could stop him he whipped the lid off of one of the hives and began to examine the frames of bees. I naturally wanted to tell him to be careful, but before I could he showed me his phone. It turned out he was a beekeeper back in Libya where he had travelled from. I saw then that he had a YouTube channel with thousands of views teaching people beekeeping. He insisted on buying a jar of honey to take back to the barge, he wouldn’t take it as a gift — it was one of the few things he was permitted to take on board by the security team.
Over the following visits we had men who were qualified agronomists giving us tips in organic pest treatments for our greenhouse crops, and an Iranian shepherd who took the opportunity of being in a wild space to fill the air with his whoops and cries as he would have done in the hills of Iran. Each visit became more and more packed with energy, and at one point Dan, our garden manager, was holding back work in anticipation of the men visiting, as the guys would get stuck into any task with such enthusiasm and skill. Our small team in the garden quickly realised that the visits weren’t a one-way street — it was becoming a wonderful and fulfilling time for us all. Dance filled the tea breaks and singing performances took over the lunch breaks. Each and every time we were moved by the resilience and positivity of the men.
Of course there were times when the mood was dampened. As rhetoric escalated with threats of Rwanda flights or far-right riots, the guys would arrive a little subdued. As time passed the harsh reality of the impermanence and powerlessness of their position was made clear. Regular visitors would suddenly disappear, we’d hear that their application was refused or that they had been moved out of the barge and up country with just a few hours’ notice. It was to be expected, but it felt like an emotional jerk. For the men and the volunteers in the Friendship group you could see that it took its toll as a permanent background feature of everybody’s lives.
By July 2024 a new government arrived, the rioters of the summer had been quickly jailed, and the end of the Bibby contract was announced. It felt like some semblance of normality had returned, but amongst those decisions came the bittersweet realisation that the visits of the men were going to draw to an end. We reflected on the highlights; that time they went on a walk to the river and many experienced their first flurries of snow, or the time Winston drank 6 hot chocolates from our café in one sitting! Keeping in touch with Laney, Gio and the Friendship Group we realised that we couldn’t let their time end without marking it with a celebration, and so by the end of 2024, as the last of the men were moved to new communities, we decided to host a ‘Bye Bye Bibby’ event at the gardens.
With the contract of the Bibby Stockholm officially ending on the 8th of January we held a party a week later, bringing many of the men back from across the country. We also invited those artists who had commented and spoken out against the Bibby, hosting talks with Chris Spencer a.k.a Cold War Steve, and banner maker Edmund Hall, alongside a gallery of works including a donated piece by Led By Donkeys, who had projected onto the barge. We also previewed work by photographers Theo McInnes and Thomas Ralph called Bibby Boys where many of the men saw their own images celebrated. We hosted a series of art and activism workshops that aimed to celebrate and inspire along with a charitable art auction and sessions from the Friendship Group about their shared experiences and the power of grassroots community action.
James poses with his portrait
But perhaps the highlight was the beautiful way in which all these elements blended together in a natural space, with some of the men feeling comfortable enough to share their experiences and talents. Over freshly prepared vegan Ethiopian food by Ethiopic Kitchen we were treated to one of the guys opera singing. He chose ‘Time to say Goodbye’ to serenade us with. A poignant reminder of why the last 18 months had been so vital in empowering both the community against more fascist elements and supporting the men in their journey. To see the real power of a diverse community brought together in this way is something we should all cherish when it is all too easy for these moments to be broken. Whilst we enjoyed lunch the gallery was defaced by someone looking to cause disruption, emblazoning ‘terrorists’ across the glazed photos of the men. Thankfully it was quickly removed and their entrance fee donated to Care4Calais, but it serves as a stark reminder that the way we choose to act makes such a huge difference.
Knowing that this rare opportunity for everyone to be together again was so special demonstrated the enormous power of friendship. A true antidote to the all to popular themes of division and discontent that we continue to face. Our weekend was full of laughter, song, dance, art, food and fun – it also left us also with the question ‘what next?’ but for now we can say Bye Bye to the Bibby with the knowledge that there are still good people doing good things in the world.
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All uncaptioned images taken from the series ‘Bibby Boys’, by Theo McInnes and Thomas Ralph.
You can donate to Care4Calais here.
Simon Constantine is the founder of Careys Secret Garden and the co-founder of ånd fragrance.