On 3 August 1981, I went on a mystery trip with my
sisters and brother-in-law. What I didn’t know was that the destination was
Port Meriden, the location of where the 70s TV series, The Prisoner, starring Patrick McGoohan was filmed.
What no one knew was that I was afflicted with private
terror of this ‘thing’ that used to make an appearance in the show.
First, a brief overview of what The Prisoner was about.
The Prisoner Plot
Patrick McGoohan is a secret agent who is abducted from
his London apartment to find himself in a sinister seaside village where he is
held captive. People from all walks of life appear resigned to living there,
allowing a controlling regime to dictate their lives.
Residents are known only by numbers; McGoohan is
Number Six. Number Six doesn’t know who is an inmate or a guard and therefore
can trust no one. ‘Number Two’ (who takes on various identities) heavily
monitors Number Six and Number One remains unseen. Monitoring systems are in
place to prevent escape, such as a balloon entity called ‘Rover’ that
recaptures or kills escapees.
The first time I saw Rover enclose its victims’ yawning
faces within its sickly rubber, I felt unspeakable terror. This was how Rover
disabled its victims – by suffocation. Every time The Prisoner came on TV, I would look out for Rover. I prayed it
wouldn’t appear. I was hyper-vigilant to the point of not following the story line. All I kept looking out for was that hideous balloon.
I felt ashamed. None of my other family members
exhibited such terror of a fictional entity. I thought I was a big baby or a sissy,
so I kept my fears to myself.
A Fear of Suffocation
I reasoned that everyone fears suffocation – don’t
they? But then, the same applies to falling from a cliff or being stabbed.
I didn’t feel the same sick fear when I watched a fictional character falling
from a plane without a parachute or bleeding to death.
Why didn’t my other family members exhibit the same
terror of Rover as I did? What I didn’t know was that my Mum’s half-brother had
lived in our cottage in 1968 when I was 3 and he routinely suffocated me in my
bedroom before orally raping me. He did it on the sly when no one was around. How I came to unearth the truth behind my intrusive thoughts is explained separately.
Alien and Fantastic Voyage
In the early 70s, I had no explanation for this horrific
demon. What else could I do but ignore it?
However, I would not escape further triggers from
subsequent films and books, too numerous to list here.
But on 28 May 1978, I would watch a Film called Fantastic Voyage about a miniature submarine
crew’s journey through the body of a sick man. I felt the same silent terror
when I watched Donald Pleasance being overcome and suffocated by the man’s
immune system.
Worse was in store on 12 July 1982 when I would see Alien. I had to leave
the room when I saw the facehugger clamped over John Hurt’s face. I was stopping
at my aunt’s at the time and it ruined my entire holiday.
So on 3 August 1981, I would visit Port Meriden
where The Prisoner was filmed. I
recall Rover playing on my mind, but thankfully, I didn’t see it that day. I
enjoyed the trip but subconsciously I was wary. The following day, I suffered a
mysterious stomach cramp and I felt depressed. I had a bad row with Mum.
Here is what I wrote verbatim in my diary on the day
I went to Port Meriden. There is no mention of my private fear. Scroll to the bottom to see a photo of my diary entry of that day.
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| 3 Aug 1981: My visit to Port Meriden |
3 August 1981 My Diary Entry
“Ok. No mood. In fact, high (for obvious reasons).
Feel well. Sunny early, fine all day. Thick cirrus forms developing (not
affecting weather). Dry and mild. Clouded over at noon but bright and mild,
cleared to a misty and balmy evening.
Didn’t sleep much this morning. Got up at 6.30am. Got ready to go on a mystery ride out (expecting something
like our local park) but we went for ages up to North Wales.
Ended up by the seaside! Colwyn Bay area. We went to
a village to an exhibition called Port Meriden. It was the (life sized) model
village used on the programme The
Prisoner. Went on the beach, past a wood (hilly). Saw a lighthouse. Played on
the beach etc. (small). Went to a grotty attic. Walked around the village. Had
an ice cream with a flake in it. We had lunch when we first visited…Started on
our way back. Stopped at a village, had chips. Went the full way back home (about
160-70 miles, 5 hours). Had minute trouble about sitting on the middle etc. Had radio on in car.”
