The Sir Alec Rose Jd Wetherspoon

So, picture this: you’re wandering the streets of Southsea, probably craving a cheap pint and a plate of something vaguely resembling a curry. You spot a pub called the Sir Alec Rose, attached to a Premier Inn, and think, "Right, another Spoons." But stop right there, you magnificent fool. This isn't just any J D Wetherspoon. This place is a floating tribute to one of the most gloriously insane British adventurers of the 20th century.

Sir Alec Rose was a humble greengrocer. Yes, a fruit and veg man. One day, presumably between selling potatoes and discussing the weather, he decided to sail around the world single-handed. And not in some fancy modern yacht, but in a tiny, 36-foot ketch named Lively Lady. It was basically a floating bathtub with sails, and he did it twice.

The "Greengrocer's Gauntlet"

Here’s where it gets juicy. In 1967, Alec set off to emulate Sir Francis Chichester, but Chichester had a support team and a rum deal. Alec had canned food and a deep, possibly questionable, belief in his own navigational skills. One surprising fact? He nearly stopped in South Africa because he got lonely. He literally wrote a letter to his wife saying he’d "had enough of the ocean and its sodding moods"—or words to that effect.

But the real kicker? When he finally returned to Portsmouth in 1968, over 250,000 people turned up to cheer him. The Queen knighted him with a sword that had once belonged to Sir Francis Drake. Imagine that: a bloke who sold cabbages getting knighted with a dead pirate’s sword. It’s the most British thing that has ever happened, and the pub is named to immortalize this glorious absurdity.

The Sir Alec Rose - JD Wetherspoon, 33A The Boardwalk in Portsmouth

The Pub Itself: A Shrine to the Sea

Now, walk into the Sir Alec Rose, and you’re not just grabbing a Monday Club scotch egg. The interior is kitted out with nautical memorabilia—model ships, maps, and a massive painting of the man himself looking like a rugged, slightly constipated sea god. It’s a museum where you can also get a very cheap lager.

The best part? The staff don’t care if you don’t know who he is. I once overheard a man at the bar ask, "So, is this Rose bloke the one who invented the rose?" The barman, without missing a beat, replied, "No, that was God. Sir Alec just sailed around him." The pub’s atmosphere is a perfect mix of reverence and chaos.

Sir Alec Rose © Alex McGregor :: Geograph Britain and Ireland

Why You Should Go (Besides the Cheap Pints)

This isn’t a stuffy historical site. It’s a Wetherspoon, for crying out loud. You can sit under a portrait of a man who survived a cyclone, a cracked mast, and a near-collision with a tanker, all while eating a Curry Club that costs a fiver. It’s surreal. The bathrooms even have little plaques explaining how Sir Alec used a bucket for a toilet for nine months. Suddenly, the pub’s loo doesn’t seem so bad, does it?

So next time you’re in Southsea, skip the generic chain pubs. Go to the Sir Alec Rose. Raise a glass of cheap pale ale to the man who proved that even a greengrocer can become a legend, as long as he’s daft enough to brave the Southern Ocean. And if you see a painting of him looking tired, just wink at it. He earned it.