Tom Mochan: The Centenarian of Canvas and Charcoal

South Wales Daily Post

As published in the South Wales Daily Post in July 1926, the remarkable story of Tom Mochan—the wandering centenarian of Waunarlwydd—was set before readers alongside a striking photograph of his primitive canvas dwelling. For more than a century, Tom has lived beneath hooped sticks, tarpaulin, and open skies, a familiar figure among the Brethren of the open whose lives are shaped by firelight, weather, and the quiet roads of Wales.

A Primitive Home of Canvas

Reporters who sought him out found his tent pitched among a few imposing travelling vans, the canvas walls glistening with rain beneath sombre Tuesday skies. Inside, the glow of a charcoal fire illuminated the deeply lined face of a man who had lived more than a hundred years—its seams and furrows emphasising the stillness of his sleep.

He awoke only when a tin by the tent door was accidentally kicked. Shown a newspaper cutting bearing his likeness, he broke into delighted laughter.

“Well, well! They have drawed it well!” he repeated, charmed by the portrait that captured his wandering life.

A Denial of Age

Though his family insists he is 104, Tom rejects the number with stubborn vigour. He has three sons and three daughters, many of whom camp nearby and speak plainly of his age. But Tom will not have it.

“No, not near,” he protests. And with eager conviction adds: “Why, I knew a man 125 in Ireland—and alive!”

A Life of Roaming and Work

Born in County Mayo, Tom came to Wales as a small boy and never left. He wandered through Cardiff, Bridgend, and spent thirteen years in Cardigan before settling at Waunarlwydd, where—many believe—he will find his final rest.

In his prime, he was known as one of the fastest tinworkers in the land, a trade now carried on by one of his sons. From his six children have come many grandchildren—eleven by one son alone—and seventeen great‑grandchildren, a living testament to his long life.

A Mind Still Sharp

Despite his years, Tom’s mind remains astonishingly clear. He speaks with authority on the world around him:

• Wales today — “I never did see Wales like it is to‑day… there’s no work about—better times then.”

• Queen Victoria — “She was a tidy woman, was Queen Victoria.”

• Modern girls — “Girls then were better… A girl’s place is to behave herself.”

• Tobacco — Filling his pipe with gusto, he declares, “Tobacco is a bad habit—too much of it, that is.”

He has suffered hardships, including a serious operation at Swansea Hospital, yet his spirit endures. The reporter’s final glimpse of him was a small, bright smile and a gentle “Good morning”, his century‑old frame settling beside the gipsy’s fire—the fire that, for Tom Mochan, never burns low.