The Buccaneer, Leopold Street

[PRESLEY 1,228]

I remember the hanging fishing nets in the Buccaneer, but didn't the same building become the Pig and Whistle and now Bessamers ? only just started boozin in them days so can't remember exactly, I still didn't think it was further along the street towards the old city school. which is on stradbroke road these days.

[Veritas 10]

I remember the hanging fishing nets in the Buccaneer, but didn't the same building become the Pig and Whistle and now Bessamers ? only just started boozin in them days so can't remember exactly, I still didn't think it was further along the street towards the old city school. which is on stradbroke road these days.

 

 

No the Grand Hotel was completely demolished and The Fountain Precinct built on the site. The Pig & Whistle was in the basement of The Fountain Precinct

[Jane123 10]

Ive really enjoyed reading these posts, they reminded me of songs I've not heard in a long while and pubs I used to visit.

 

I remember my parents driving to the top of Fargate, me in the back of the car aged 13, and my mum looking out at the Buccaneer commenting on the "types" who frequented the place. I looked on with silent envy and excitement at the prospect of being able to visit as soon as I was old enough. Unfortunately, by the time I was old enough the Buccaneer was no more.

 

When the time came I found plenty of great places to visit and good times were had, but I will always remember my mother looking down her nose at the Buccaneer and my disappointment when it closed.

[mjw47 10]

Went in many times during the 60s. One of the things I remember was 'blanking' Bobby Moore because I thought it funny at the time.

 

If you came in through the Grand Hotel entrance you could get in the lift and it would take you down to the Buccaneer.

 

The lift was one of those small antiquated ones and not the most reliable.

 

I get in and press to go down, the lift goes up to the top floor and Bobby steps in looking every inch the captain of England, Blazer, tie, grey slacks, shiny shoes, dazzling white shirt.

 

I keep my face straight and pretend not to know who he is.

 

The lift proceeds to go down about two floors, stops doors open, no one there. Goes down one more, same result.

 

We are both stood there in silence, he 'shoots his cuffs' classy cufflinks. I keep stum and make out I had no idea who he was.

 

Finally we get to the ground floor, he gets out and gives me a puzzled look and I nod at him as you would any stranger in the same circumstances. I proceed down to the Buccaneer to tell my mates.

 

It seemed an amusing thing to do at the time, but when he died tragically young I regretted not having a chat. He always struck me as a decent enough bloke.

[cookingfat50 10]

my mates and me were big fans of the buccaneer, in that time we would go there 3 times a week thursday ,Friday, and Saturday's where we would spend a good 3 hours knocking back Rum and blacks, till we were ****** out of our heads, we liked Thursday the best we called it HP night hen party night as that's when most brides to be would hold their hen nights. it was always packed and never saw any trouble we all had a fantastic time under the Grand hotel shame that one of the best Victorian building in sheffied may be even Georgian[/color]

[smithy266 21]

Buccaneer... plastic pint glasses, iirc.

[Jim Hardie 527]

Went in many times during the 60s. One of the things I remember was 'blanking' Bobby Moore because I thought it funny at the time.

 

If you came in through the Grand Hotel entrance you could get in the lift and it would take you down to the Buccaneer.

 

The lift was one of those small antiquated ones and not the most reliable.

 

I get in and press to go down, the lift goes up to the top floor and Bobby steps in looking every inch the captain of England, Blazer, tie, grey slacks, shiny shoes, dazzling white shirt.

 

I keep my face straight and pretend not to know who he is.

 

The lift proceeds to go down about two floors, stops doors open, no one there. Goes down one more, same result.

 

We are both stood there in silence, he 'shoots his cuffs' classy cufflinks. I keep stum and make out I had no idea who he was.

 

Finally we get to the ground floor, he gets out and gives me a puzzled look and I nod at him as you would any stranger in the same circumstances. I proceed down to the Buccaneer to tell my mates.

 

It seemed an amusing thing to do at the time, but when he died tragically young I regretted not having a chat. He always struck me as a decent enough bloke.

 

I did exactly the same thing with Bobby Charlton. Not at the Grand but at a building in Manchester where his accountant had his office.

I did actually speak to him, I said "Five please".

[mjw47 10]

I did exactly the same thing with Bobby Charlton. Not at the Grand but at a building in Manchester where his accountant had his office.

I did actually speak to him, I said "Five please".

 

We appear to have the same slightly weird sense of humour, probably a Sheffield thing.

 

They probably both went away thinking, "Dozy Prat"

[Jim Hardie 527]

We appear to have the same slightly weird sense of humour, probably a Sheffield thing.

 

They probably both went away thinking, "Dozy Prat"

 

Lol, if the truth be known, I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't have sounded utterly banal so I decided to keep shtum.

[mjw47 10]

Lol, if the truth be known, I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't have sounded utterly banal so I decided to keep shtum.

 

Well, in that case you have a better excuse than me, I've never been caught short for something to say in my life!

 

I was just being a smartarse for my own amusement.

Edited October 17, 2014 by mjw47

[BOOKER 10]

i wonder who like me, remembers a delightful little 70s pub called the bucaneer

 

hidden beneath the sprawling acres of the grand hotel in barkers pool, the doorway, like the entrance to a secret little aladdins cave, was tucked away on leopold street, in an area now occupied by a trendy wine bar.

 

The source of many magic moments, it was responsible for introducing much of sheffield to progressive rock and some of the more extraneous bands of the day. Long will i remember a bespectacled, lank haired dj, hiding inside a plexiglass booth, raving about rick wakeman’s keyboard solo on “roundabout”, or extolling the virtues of carlos santana’s “samba pa ti”. He seemed to favour longer tracks, and is still the only dj i know who has played the full version of “in a gadda da vida” in public. (come to think of it, hes the only one i know who has played it in private)

 

the clientele were a mixed bunch, varying between ageing hippies, who called for the grateful dead to be played at every opportunity, and those art school sophisticates for whom a steely dan “e minor seventh sharp fifth ” was the ultimate chord. Boys outnumbered girls about 5 to 1, but it wasn’t a place for meeting the opposite sex. Its sole itinerary was music. Loud, wall-throbbing, ear-splitting music. Not humble but heavy. The kind of music that came back and haunted you in your dreams. It was john peel’s perfumed garden incarnate – and we lapped it up.

 

Most wore denim, although later the fashionable townies, in their ben shermans and two-tone sta prest, started to wander in, just as bowie began blurring the boundaries between rock and pop. Mein-host would pander to these occasionally, by slipping “all the young dudes” in between “communication breakdown” and “faith healer”. However these lapses were rare, and regulars could normally guarantee hearing at least one velvet underground track during the course of an evening. Certain records gained a notorious popularity, and there was always a cheer when the archangel started singing about his wardrobe, or the ox’s base fed us his arachnic fears. And riots took place whenever those crimson boys told their stories about going to court.

 

The predominant smell was “brut” for the guys and “charlie” for the girls, although both genders could get away with hai karate on a friday night, so dense was the ambiance. The sticky carpet was a deposit for any form of detritus, and was i’m sure, the inspiration for the motto “if the floor is full, please use the ashtrays”. Unusually for a sheffield pub, the beer was of little or no import. It was a generic ‘red barrel’ type brew, and came in plastic glasses. Getting served was a life changing experience, as most groups bought three or four rounds in one go, to save having to brave the fourteen deep crowd at the bar more than once. The bar staff comprised students, and fans of “stone the crows”. It was compulsory for them to smoke and serve pretty girls first, and they always complained that they didn’t play enough vinegar joe.

 

If the atmosphere got too heavy, and occasionally it did, we would carry our beers down pinstone street to the wide open spaces of the nelson and put “see emily play” on the juke box - then we'd go back three days later to hear it, such was the backlog. There was a deep groove in the pavement between the two pubs, and on some evenings it was possible to meet the same people three or four times without ever being in the same building.

 

For me, it was the first place in the town centre where i felt like a local, and it changed my musical tastes for life. I shed a genuine tear the night it closed, and wore a black armband for weeks after it was pulled down. For those of us of a certain age, i truly believe that we never saw its like, before or since. The one consolation is that i can revisit the buc at will, simply by digging out my “aqualung” vinyl, or “music from a doll’s house” cd.

 

Do others have similar memories or did i dream all this?

 

me and my mates john greenwood,paul drew,long haired pete

,geoff cauldwell,john dylan & curried goat used the bucaneer every saturday afternoon without fail the beer was crap but we used to drink guinness always consistently good.

The d.j there did our wedding disco at dam house in crooks valley park in 1971

BY THE WAY THERE WASN'T ALWAYS PLASTIC GLASSES AS YOU WILL SEE FROM MY PHOTO'S I WILL POST LATER

Edited January 3, 2015 by BOOKER

[Sues123 10]

Just found this post on the Buccaneer - loved the place. I think the use of plastic "glasses" began after a girl stood on a broken pint pot and severely injured her foot - blood everywhere- I was there standing next to her.

 

I remember unwittingly causing a fight one night when I poured beer over a chap who persisted in putting his hands where he shouldn't - I found it hard to get away from him because the place was absolutely packed - unfortunately I was caught by the movement of the crowd and missed him - soaking another lad who immediately turned around and punched the chap I had missed - a fight then ensued between two groups of men. We left the building.