The Illustrated Triassic Club

Oscar, Darwin, and Wallace

Several readers may recall Marc's having covered Blackgang Chine's The Triassic Club before. After our return this Easter to view the newly installed robosaurs of Restricted Area 5, I decided to finally complete this little project which I had actually begun a year ago, that of accurately illustrating the gentlemanly trio (which, for me, also meant accurate period garments, naturally). This was not only overdue but was especially necessary, since the inclement weather during the latter part of our Isle of Wight visit prevented me from drawing a dinosaur on Shanklin beach as I did last time.

All the drawings are art card size at 2.5 x 3.5 inches (so you're viewing them larger than actual size on screen). The lord and master of the trio, Darwin the Allosaurus was the first to have been drawn and completed last year. Louche, aristocratic and lasciviously suave to reflect his voice and speech. 'Come in. Oh, do come in...'

In completing the others this time round, I found myself unintentionally drawing them in greater detail and spending longer on each. Other than Darwin himself, we're never told which specific dinosaurs his companions are. Oscar the pianist is presumably an ornithomimosaur of some sort. He seems to have effectively become an extant ratite in this drawing, which is especially unavoidable when all one sees is his head and neck. I replaced the beer glass of the original model with a tankard. Whilst I've tried to keep the eyes of the others fairly avian in terms of their visible components, I deliberately drew Oscar's with a distinct iris and sclera to keep the wild-eyed, permanently alarmed expression of the original. It was too comical not to.

 I initially wondered if I could turn Wallace the butler into an Ornitholestes, given that his generic theropod appearance seemed to afford free rein, but I was reminded by Marc of the sickle claws on his feet. A dromaeosaur, then. I think he became my favourite drawing of the three. Though the new(er) audio recording of his voice is that of a squeaky, fretful, hapless underling, Marc informs me that he originally possessed an altogether loftier tone. I tried to reflect that slightly supercilious yet put-upon expression. 'The Master is expecting you. He's always expecting something. And guess who has to get it for him? Me, that's who!'


As a bonus, I thought I may as well share this, too. You are already familiar with our saurian portraits, but here are our avian ones (because I can, and because confusing people seems to be my fort�). Marc (the magpie) and I enduring that aforementioned inclement weather on Easter Sunday.

Blackgang Chine: Part 2: The old Triassic Club

In addition to its vintage 'Dinosaurland', Blackgang Chine has one other major Mesozoic-themed attraction. Much like the giant, brightly-coloured fibreglass mushrooms (occasionally with faces) that dot the hillside in various areas of the park, it is quite delightfully unhinged. Step right this way!

The Triassic Club was first 'discovered' in 1994, following a major landslide that necessitated the relocation of several major attractions (including a replica cowboy town). As is usual at Blackgang, the premise is explained by way of a pleasingly silly rhyme.

Lots of people have drawn dinosaurs in rather gentlemanly outfits, presumably because it's a vision that never ceases to be hilarious. Blackgang went one better, and stocked the Triassic Club with full-size robot beasts decked out in formal finery. Guests are greeted by Wallace, the butler, who complains witheringly about the master's demanding nature. He also requests that you kindly weigh yourself on a set of scales that denote which course of the feast you are most suited to becoming.

Once weighed, it's time to move on to the next room where the master awaits! He introduces himself as Darwin the Allosaurus - "whom some have the cheek to call the 'other lizard'" - and intones in a louche, aristocratic manner that his guests "sssmell sssscrumptioussss". Requesting that the starter come forward, he nevertheless rejects the notion of eating any vegetarians, explaining that they tend to stick in his teeth.

At a nearby piano - and apparently enjoying a hearty ale - is Oscar, whose wide-eyed, stern facial expression is just priceless. When realising that his drawling, salivating monologue isn't winning his guests over to the idea of becoming lunch, Darwin laments that he'll have to sing for his supper again. And so Oscar strikes a chord...

(You might have to turn your volume up a bit, sorry!)


I've always enjoyed this attraction. Except when I was a small child, when the idea of a leering, toothy dinosaur speaking in a haughty aristocratic accent scared the hell out of me. Granted, the animatronics are hardly Disney-calibre, but then it wasn't made on that kind of budget (and it's getting old). One final thing worth mentioning - before a refurb a couple of years back Darwin had a different soundtrack that was actually far creepier. Happily, someone's uploaded it for posterity! Enjoy!