Peter Batholomew BOISSARD 1952-1978

c. 1952


Temporary image!

c. 1978

Died on an oil-rig the far east


Pete probably had the most generous supply of Boissard brains, gaining scholarships I think to both Westminster School and to London University. I only got to know him in my late teens as Peter was several years younger than me and my natural ally in the Boissard camp was Nicky who was roughly my age. My brother Robin and Peter's brother Michael were similarly paired off.

Peter and Nicky came and stayed with us for a few days in Beulah, mid-Wales in the late 1970s and we all had a great time which was sadly not repeated first because of Pete's premature death in an unnecessary accident on an oil rig in the far east and second because of Nicky's own premature death from a sarcoma. All accidents are unnecessary but that to which Pete fell victim was doubly so because he himself had warned the owners of the rig of the danger which they had ignored. I believe his mother Barbara resorted to litigation but to what if any effect I do not know.

The occasions on which Pete and I generally met were at Fen Ditton and/or at Jo's cottages at Cley next the Sea. I remember in particular an occasion when we were still both students and I, in my first car and he in his had a fine race between the two venues in which triumphed only because his clutch was slipping. For petrol-heads - and I am not one - my car was a 1955 souped-up Morris Minor with twin carburetors, polished ports and so on whereas his car was even higher specked which he came by as thusly. Having saved hard he acquired a respectable Ford Cortina which was promptly stolen. He reported it to the police who went through the motions but after seeral months Pete gave the car up for lost and acquired another only to receive a phone call from the gendarmerie that they had recovered a car that matched his description of the one stolen from him in certain particulars but not in all and would he care to inspect it. He said he would and discovered that his previously mundane banger had been transformed into what the police assumed was an intended get-away vehicle complete with a super-charger and all the other bits that went with it. Once they had finished with the car the police returned it to Pete in its transformed state and under favourable conditions I would not have seen him for dust but a slipping clutch redressed the balance in my favour.