On Saturday 12 June we raced over 880 yards (800m) for the Jock Fee cup. The event is sponsored by the Cselko family.

In Ted's diary there were several references to wartime activity in Hyde Park. Sadly the diaries have not survived, but Alan Titmuss did record second and third hand records of some of Ted’s more memorable entries.  In 1941 Ted noted that a large German bomb landed on the island reducing it greatly in size. Another fell at the western end between the bridge and pavilion.  Fortunately no damage was done, but it did kill hundreds of fish.  These were collected in baskets and boiled down to feed the Park pigs (there was a war on).  Silver barrage balloons were erected in the Park and close to the old Lido entrance air raid shelters were built. Whilst all this was happening the Park "kept calm and carried on" and in true British fashion the Serpentine was restocked with some 1,600 fish from the River Kennet, plus also some Scottish Trout. On 14 June 1942, the Royal Parks Office issued the first permits which allowed fishing between the bathing area and the southeast corner, as it is today. Fly fishing was not allowed as it was considered too dangerous to spectators. The fishing was free, but undersized fish had to be returned to the water.  The first fish caught was a silver eel. During those war years, with ration books and all, the thought of some nice jellied eel's must have been very tempting to a cockney fisherman. In 1939 the Park's nurseries covered about three acres of glasshouses.  Situated behind the 'Bird Sanctuary', it supplied plants and flowers to Kensington and Buckingham Palaces, the Houses of Parliament, and 10 Downing Street. To help the war effort, it was given over to growing tomatoes and 12.5 tons were grown in one year alone. In 1944, a bomb fell on the nursery and destroyed the lot. Ted Stoter, who was on fire duty that night, recalled that it was a sight he would never forget. Fortunately nobody was hurt, but broken glass and tons of tomatoes were splattered everywhere. Tomatoes were not the only produce of the Park, sheep grazed peacefully in what had become pastures.

On the 24th. August 1944, at 7.20 a.m. a  flying bomb or 'doodle bug' as they were know dropped about 50 yards from the entrance to the Lido, breaking every window and literally raising the roof of the pavilion by three inches.  With some clever workmanship, it was somehow put back without taking the roof off.   It was a lovely Sunday in summer and so with the help of a few policeman, staff and bathers they set to work and by 2.00 pm the Lido was open with bathers piling through the gates to enjoy the sunshine and swimming. The only person injured was an attendant who went through a door and cut his head when a window dropped on him. If the bomb had dropped five hours later there is no doubt thousands may have died or been injured that day.

Sid, a keen bird fancier, would hang his cages in what was known as the “Turkish Bean Tree” that grew by the pay desk at the Lido entrance.  Pet birds, canaries and budgerigars, etc. which had escaped from homes surrounding the park would be attracted to the chirping birds. Soon Sid had a whole tree full of brightly coloured songbirds, singing away merrily.  Sadly the tree was later brought down in the great storm of 1987.