The rise and fall of British Enkalon

IT was the making and very nearly the breaking of modern Antrim.

British Enkalon almost single-handedly transformed the town, driving the boom years in the 1960s that persuaded thousands of people from across the province to follow the gold rush to the sprawling complex on the Randalstown Road.

But this is a cautionary tale. The planners of Antrim New Town were seduced by the swagger of the early success. One by one, they placed all the eggs in one basket.

Within two decades the dream was over. The future of the textiles giant was hanging by a thread. Thousands of well-paid workers were facing life on the dole, the rug pulled out from under them.

That seemed unimaginable back in 1962 as 800 men clattered away on the 300,000 square foot factory, under the watchful gaze of Managing Director Roelof Schierbeek.

He had upped sticks from his native Holland to oversea the operation - and he believed parent company AKU were onto a winner.

“On the basis of our experiences in Europe and America we think we have a good chance of succeeding in Northern Ireland,” he said.

“We hope to have about 500 employees by September or October next year, when the factory should be nearing full production.”

Those workers would turn out continuous nylon filament yarn for supply to textile, fabric and hosiery manufacturers. The plant would also be the first commercial producer in the UK of Nylon 6, a new product known for its high tensile strength. Another string to Antrim’s bow.

Heartened by the company’s confidence, the Antrim Steering Committee lobbied William Craig, the Minister for Development, to prepare for an influx to the sleepy rural town, which was then home to just 3,000 souls.

And the men from the ministry agreed.

“It would be true to say...that nothing has done more to influence the future character of the town than the decision of British Enkalon Ltd to acquire about 290 acres of land on the Randalstown Road for industrial purposes,” said Professor Robert Matthew in his pivotal Belfast Regional Plan.

Prophetically, however, he warned that the rapidly growing town needed to attract other big employers too.

“It would be unsatisfactory if the town were to rely wholly, or even mainly, on one firm however large and progressive that firm may be.”

Indeed, but as the £6 million factory - that’s almost £127 million today - neared completion in 1963 those were concerns for another day.

Enkalon was the talk of the town and plans were afoot to build 1,000 new homes. More would follow. Many more.

The grand opening finally came in September 1963, and the scale of the investment was underlined when none other than Crown Princess Beatrix of the Netherlands flew into the province to cut the ribbon.

The opening ceremony was attended by about 600 people, including Prime Minister Terence O’Neill, who described it as a ‘proud day’.

“This important new industry means, of course, a considerable increase in the size of the town and in the facilities which it provides,” beamed the PM.

“Already employment at the factory has passed the 500 mark, and we were greatly encouraged to learn, only a few weeks ago, that the firm is proceeding with an expansion of capacity to permit an annual production of up to seven million pounds of Nylon 6.”

Mr J Meynen, chairman of Enkalon’s board, said this was just the beginning.

“One thing is sure, we of British Enkalon intend to see this factory grow in the future. In order to achieve this, however, it will be necessary for the community around us to develop also.

“After all, staff working in a modern factory with modern amenities naturally want to live their private lives with their families in similar good environments.”

Mr Meynen then called on Her Royal Highness to unveil a plaque depicting the industrial links between Holland and Ulster and a striking mural designed by Dutch artist Ted Felen. The abstract mosaic now hangs in the Castle Gardens near Clotworthy House.

Princess Beatrix, who went on to serve as Queen of the Netherlands for 33 years, left Antrim with gifts that day.

She was presented with a bouquet by Betty Agnew, and she received a case of Waterford sherry glasses from Jacqueline Trimble, on behalf of the workers in the yarn inspection department.

Roelof Schierbeek was there too, and he praised the teams manning the machines confirming that they were ‘coming along very well’.

By 1966 the company reached another milestone, hiring their 1,000th employee in Antrim.

The main factory was diversifying too, becoming the second company in the UK making sought after Terlenka filament polyester yarns. They also opened a new carpet yarn factory on the site, which was equipped to produce more than five million pounds of heavy denier yarn a year. Better still, that created another 200 jobs.

These were halcyon days, but the 1970s proved to more challenging times.

The Antrim area was already hit with the closure of the Maintenance Unit at Aldergrove and the Royal Naval Armaments Depot in Antrim. This left Enkalon as the last man standing as a major employer.

By 1971, over 3,100 people worked at the factory. By then 21,000 called Antrim home. The fortunes of the town were firmly interwoven with the continued success of one company.

And by 1975 things started to quietly unravel.

Shocking new figures for the last 12 months revealed that profits had plummeted at Enkalon, with the company suffering its first major trading loss since it began production in Antrim. A £3.6 million profit in 1973 had slumped to a trading deficit of £69,000.

The loyalist strike in May 1974 had not helped, as the temporary closure of the plant had caused losses of more than £1 million.

More ominous was the recession in man-made fibres generally, and the growth in low-priced exports.

“In spite of present difficulties the company remains confident for the future,” said chairman Colonel JT Davies.

But by decades-end the situation had become even more dire, and staff levels had been slashed to less than 2,000.

Breaking point finally came in January 1981 when the company confirmed that closure was inevitable unless a 10 per cent reduction in running costs was made.

They also confirmed that 800 jobs had to go, with a serious question mark over the 1,100 workers left behind.

Roelof Schierbeek said that having to tell loyal workers that they were to lose their jobs was ‘a shattering and emotional experience’.

It was, he said, the ‘worst day of my life’.

The shock was seismic. The New Town had been built around Enkalon - and it was on the brink.

South Antrim MP Jim Molyneaux said the shock pay off were an ‘economic and social disaster’ for the town.

This was echoed by Alliance Councillor Charles Kinahan.

“The drastic reduction in employment at British Enkalon is a major disaster for the town of Antrim, where such a large proportion of the population earn their living in the company’s employ,” he said.

“If Antrim is not to become a ghost town then the Government must look urgently at means of protecting the jobs that remain.”

Top level talks continued behind the scenes, but no deal could be struck to bridge the financial gap, which had soared to £17 million.

Unless a lifeline could be found, British Enkalon would close in August - to the consternation of traders in the Castle Centre, which had opened just four months earlier.

And then a faint chink of hope. In August, the Government offered a £1.25 million financial package that would safe-guard most of the remaining jobs - at least until March 1982.

More were being made redundant later that month, but the 11th hour reprieve would give a breathing space for the 850 left.

Christmas came and went, but the New Year brought little cheer. By February, staff were warned that the outlook was ‘bleak’.

The axe finally fell on March 1 - during a debate in the House of Commons.

The workers had seen had seen it coming from a long way off, but for some the news was still ‘devastating’.

“There was a feeling of despair and despondency in the factory when the announcement came. Some people cried when the news was delivered,” said Trevor Brennan, Transport and General Workers Union Convenor.

“But tears do not move governments nor the multi-nationals.”

Among the people handed their cards was SDLP Councillor Bobby Loughran.

“I am destined like everyone else to join the dole queue. I only hope that British Enkalon will give its loyal workers enough recompense in the form of redundancy money. Many of them have been there since it opened in the early 60s and I just hope the parent company appreciates that.”

Apparently they did. They offered 40 weeks pay to any employee with the firm since it opened. The rest, the majority, would get 20 weeks.

In May 1982 company president AG Van Den Bos briefed spooked stockholders on Enkalon.

“We sincerely regret having to close down a plant still employing, in early 1981, 2,000 people in a region where unemployment is already very high. We simply had no alternative,” he said.

Cold comfort for the families left picking up the pieces and looking to an uncertain future. Some left, but many more stayed. Dark days indeed.

More than 40 years on the huge factory still stands, a monument to a gamble that didn’t pay off.

Would it have survived if London had bailed it out? Who knows.

But its legacy continues to this day.

To their credit, the owners did not simply walk away.

In 1985 the Enkalon Foundation was established to help support former employees and the wider community in the wake of the shutdown.

The first awards were distributed in 1987 when 30 groups were granted £36,200 between them and since then it has continued to expand.

“The factory closed in 1982 but Dr Roelof Schierbeek first came here to run the run the plant in 1960, with the intention of staying for a couple of years,” said Peter Dalton, a Trustee.

“He made the decision to stay on and he was here for 50 years up until his death.

“He got the initial £1 million from the then owners and created this fund and when the factory closed, it was to help alleviate the difficulties people might face.

“The Foundation also had ownership of the social club and this was allowed to continue for as long as it was self-sufficient but the time came when it had to be sold to a developer.

“This boosted the fund money to around £7 million.”

Yes, you read that correctly. After more than three decades of public-spirited generosity they actually had much more in the pot than they began with!

Last year a £150m investment into the redevelopment of Enkalon Business Park in Antrim, which could create more than 1000 jobs, took a step forward after formal planning application was submitted by Errigal Group.