by John Periam
I enjoyed the tub race days but if I have to be honest I preferred the trawler race. This was an idea of Jim Partridge who ran several trawlers from the quay at Shoreham. Invites were sent to other ports in the region and trawlers came to join us in all shapes and sizes. They were decked out with lots of bunting and the wives had provided plenty of food and drink. The race was from Shoreham Harbour entrance to Brighton Pier and back and there were really no rules. I think there was some sort of scoring depending on size but it was a free for all.
Both lifeboats were launched and as many crew as possible went on the larger off shore boat. Not a part of the race, it was our duty was to keep an eye out for any casualties such as a man overboard. Some of the crew that owned boats took part including Ginger (our second coxswain) whilst Peter Huxtable went on Jims large trawler. For some reason the lifeboat become a centre of attraction. Missiles were thrown at us including tomatoes and eggs with support from some very powerful hosepipes from the larger trawlers.
One year Dave Sutton who owned a beam trawler decided to let the beams down one of which hit Gingers wheelhouse. It was all taken in good jest but beams remained up after that. The turn around at Brighton was fun (off the new nudist beach) with more spectator boats joining in to follow the event back to Shoreham. The beaches were more packed than is usual. The national media also got interested and one year we had a BBC film crew on board the lifeboat along with a photographer from the Daily Telegraph whose picture made front page next day.
Shelley never got onto any of the boats and spent her day at the jetty with Pearl and Peggy who ran the RNLI souvenir stall where she really enjoyed sitting in the sun and looking at the world passing buy. The harbour jetty was turned into a mini boat show with companies selling their nautical wears and plenty of cockles and whelks followed by pints of Draft Guinness from the brewery’s own bar.
The race back got even more competitive with some tactful steering by the skippers that would have put a formula one driver through his paces.
No loyalty or love was lost - it was a fun day out. At the finishing line which was outside the harbour entrance the judges sat in their ‘Gin Palace’ cruiser waiting to fire a maroon as the winner crossed it. Once they all got back the boats anchored up along the harbour jetty and the real celebrations started. Fisherman can drink and this was no exception. The lifeboat also moored up for a short spell then returned to the boathouse where it was refuelled and washed down ready for its next call of duty. We then headed back to the jetty at full speed to enjoy the rest of the afternoon and early evening. Shelley was delighted to see me whilst making her normal fuss of all and sundry treating them like long lost friends!
The prize giving was always a bone of contention with comments coming from all quarters plus the odd airborne object which was all was taken in good jest. The trawler race became a regular event for about three years then with the new rules and regulations many fishermen sold their boats as it was not cost effective to run. The larger ones at Newlyn and Brixham carried on for many more years whilst being great fund raising events for the many fishing charities.
Fishing is considered to be the most dangerous type of work anyone can do and many fishermen have been lost at sea over the years. The RNLI is involved in the development of safety gear along with all types’ of communication equipment working with the MCA Coastguard Authority in rescues around the coast of Britain.
How often does one hear in the national media of another trawler in difficulties around the British coastline? That is what made the Shoreham Trawler Race different as it was to support an industry that has had more than its fair share of problems due to bureaucratic decisions made by others.
The day over Shelley and I returned back to our flat. These two events had put a sparkle into our lives and made us feel part of the fishing community of Shoreham. The Lifeboat has been very much part of the town for many years as it is in other ports, with a deep feeling of tradition that was being carried on by father and son over many years. It was nice to be part of it.
End Of Chapter 29
VISIT TO A GETTY HOUSE AND POLICE INVOLVEMENT – CHAPTER 30
There were times when we were asked at the lifeboat to attend promotional and RNLI fund raising events outside our area. One such time was when we were approached by the regional office in Uckfield to go the house of one of the Getty family near Guilford. There was going to be a major fund raising event with several celebrities attending, and at the same time there was going to be displays by sea cadets, Royal Navy field gun crews along with other organisations. Our remit was to have a race with another two ILB crews from other stations.
The idea was that there would be two ILB’s on trailers that would be towed by Landover’s. The maroons would be fired and we would then have to run out to the relevant lifeboats and change into our all weather gear and then jump into the ILB on the trailer and be towed via some obstacles to the other end of the arena where a Royal Navy Helicopter would winch one crew member from each trailer and do a circuit returning the casualty back down into the trailer which would then race the others to the finish line. There were no cutbacks then in the services!
It sounded a fun idea so Peter Lowe, David Wainwright, Chris Fox, Mike Fox, Gerald Lettres and I went along for the day. Other crews came from the Kent coast and we all met up there where we had a briefing with the fund raising team and the helicopter crew. A suitable candidate was elected from each crew for the winch up and the remainder had other jobs given to them, in our case Dave was to be winched up, Gerald did the driving and the remainder of us took over the ILB.
A lot of the celebrities got involved in the different events during the day and I recall one of the stars fro Coronation Street even being winched up by the Royal Navy Helicopter.
Always at such events the fund raising team gave us new gear to wear and crew jumpers. In those days crew jumpers were hard to get and the RNLI was very cost conscious (as it should have been). Our own gear that we took along with us was rather dirty and the jumpers had seen a great deal of wear. This being the case, the number one target for us was to find where the box that contained the new ones was and do a slow swap during the day.
Trying to put gear on in a rush is not always easy. You have to take your shoes off. The leggings have to go on over your jeans and then pulled up with braces supporting them. The yellow wellies come next and this has to be done standing on one foot without the support of the boathouse wall that would be there. Then the waterproof top then goes over the head and is pulled down over the top of the trousers. This is then followed by putting on the RNLI life jacket which is clipped between the legs and back onto itself. It was also fairly bulky.
With a jump we leapt into the ILB on the trailer and Gerald drove off via the course obstacles. To be truthful we assumed it was going to be a fun event but the Kent crews had other ideas and it became a real challenge.
Shelley came along and had the position in the Land Rover next to Gerald making the most of the day by popping her head out of the window barking at all and sundry. On one occasion she had enough and jumped out following the trailer then disappearing into the Getty family pond which was situated nearby returning with a large stick and water lilies in the process. In disgrace! Shelley was taken to the RNLI stand where she spent the rest of the day.
The helicopter was a Wessex with a crew of four and it flew very low over the ILBs sending the winchman down and winching up in our case Dave.
During the day there were several of these ILB races with the final taking place at about 5pm. We of course had adjourned to the popular beer tent between shows consuming the normal amounts of Bitter and Guinness alongside the other crew members the helicopter ground support team and Royal Marines who were also doing their un-armed combat demonstration.
For the last winch up at the end of the day David unknown to us had un-clipped the braces from his yellow leggings and when he was winched up these fell down revealing his underwear which appealed to the pu
blics sense of humour and that of a local radio presenter who interviewed him. We did not win the prize; if I remember it went to the crew from the Isle of Sheppey. The day was a great success and a lot of money was duly raised with images taken with Jimmy Saville that we still have to this day. The new jumpers and waterproof gear also look very nice! (Woops let the cat out of the bag!)
Following the day at the Getty estate we all decided to go for a beer in one of the local pubs. The helicopter crew were staying over for the night so they asked us down. Being gluttons for punishment we decided to go. On arrival they had jugs of bitter lined up on the tables resulting in the evening developed into one of fun and normal service games like seeing how many could stand on a table without breaking it, much to the landlords surprise plus a few wheelbarrow races around the bar.
Shelley had seen wheelbarrow races before when she had visited RAF messes. It meant chasing the ankles of the person holding up the feet of the wheelbarrow which just added to the total mayhem! She never grew up. We departed at about 8pm leaving them to what was going to be a long night as we had an hours drive back which I am gad to say we did manage.
Back home life carried on normally. Shelley was slowing down more now and sometimes she found it a little hard to climb the stairs to my flat. This resulted in me having to carry her. It did concern me but at this stage it was not a regular occurrence but I did keep my eye on things.
One evening I drove into my car port after work to be greeted by Gay who lived in the block. She was a character in her own right being single, having lost her partner at the start of the Second World War. She was the first person to move into the flats when built so became the boss keeping her eye out for people walking through the grounds and parking their cars when they should not. She was very aggressive at times and most of us had had spells of not speaking to her for several weeks. She meant well, after a while things were always patched up.
As I got out of the car she said two men had been looking for me and that they would be calling back later adding that they did not look particularly pleasant.
It worried me a bit – but knowing I had not done anything wrong or owed any money I forgot about it.
Later that evening the door bell rang and Shelley went to it as normal barking a couple of times only. I had a spy hole and looked through to see two chaps looking a little scruffy standing there. I opened the door on the chain asking who they were. To my utter surprise they said they were police showing me their ID’s. I let them in asking if they would come into the lounge offering them a beer each.
They were from the regional drug unit and it appears had been investigating a case in Shoreham over several weeks. Their appearance was all part of what they did as they got somewhat involved in undercover work. They asked if they could use my flat over a period of a few days so they could look at a property down the road. I had no objections but was a little concerned as to when it would be. They said anytime day or night telling me I was to carry on as normal. In the meantime Shelley seemed to like them and they had no objections if she was around. As proof they asked me to phone a number and I was assured all was approved by the superiors in their department.
They left with my spare key and life carried on. I remember coming home one day to find them with chairs by the window and the curtains closed – a radio link on and binoculars on hand. Another time I walked Shelley to the Sovereign and she stopped by two of them who were keeping an eye out from the other end of the road. It was a little like the Michael Caine film, ‘The Ipcress File’. We joked about that later when the officer concerned said Shelley would have made a good sniffer dog.
This went on for about ten days. Sometimes I would be asleep in bed and they would let themselves in. Other times they would arrive early in the morning. I always left plenty of tea and biscuits out which they appreciated. They were very good and gave me some cash to cover my costs leaving a nice bottle of Gin for me when it was all over.
It concluded one evening late when there was a lot of noise from down the road and several police cars arrived. The door was broken down and in this case the residents duly removed. I never did find out what happened and put it down to one of life’s experiences.
A few months later I was getting into my car at a transport café near Horsham when there was tap on the shoulder. It was one of the drug team who was on an advanced police driving course, they used the café for breakfast stops. I asked him what had happened and was told all had now been duly dealt with. I was introduced to the others on the course. He had got to know Shelley very well and went back into the café returning with some biscuits for her.
Life is full of surprises and every day I left my flat I never knew what was around the corner. One day I had driven to Stratford upon Avon to visit a client. I was told by an old friend of mine that his brother was head chief at a certain hotel in the area and he asked me to pop in to say hello.
We got there and Shelley and I went to reception asking for the head chief who came out treating me like a long lost brother. He took us into the lounge and arranged for coffee and some biscuits and crisps for her ladyship! It was a pleasant interlude and he gave me a note for his brother. Suddenly he was called away but told me to finish my coffee taking my time.
I was there with Shelley when this chap in a Navy uniform came up and asked if he could join me using the line that he liked Labradors. I had no objection. He was genuine enough as he had a female wren driver outside. Apparently he was something big to do with submarines. To cut a long story short he offered me a drink and we went to the bar suggesting that his driver would look after Shelley for a while which she seemed keen to do.
Several drinks later I was invited to join him for lunch and we went through the ala carte menu, a very expensive bottle of wine followed and several brandies. We discussed just about everything one could discuss and at one stage the head chief came out to say hello seeing us through the doors leading into the kitchen area.
When it came to paying the bill and he insisted in paying for the lot. Out of curiosity I asked why he had lavished all this entertainment on me thinking there was some ultera motive (too many movies!). His answer was plain and simple. “I asked my driver if we could stop as I needed a coffee as we are going to Portsmouth. I saw you and your dog. I am happily married and have two Labradors of my own and what I intended to be a brief chat has lead into a three hour lunch. You are an interesting person and your RNLI background fascinated me plus you had a charisma that I liked so I stayed.”
We never met again; He would not give me his address. As we walked to his car his driver handed Shelley back to me saying what a wonderful dog she was. I felt guilty about her not having lunch with us but was re-assured she had found a nice sandwich bar when she took Shelley with her. She added whispering into my ear. ”The person you have just had lunch with is a very important person in the Royal Navy involved with submarines and for him to give you his time is very special.”
I still wonder who he was. I have spoken to several of my service friends about it and they could understand his views and why he did it. He was just lonely and need some good company to break his long journey. As the saying goes “Right place at the right time.”
Shelley was just one of those dogs that attracted a lot of attention giving out some friendly vibes in the process – that’s what so nice about her!
End of Chapter Thirty
NORTH NORFOLK AND DESOLATE BEACHES – CHAPTER – 31
There is something very special about the East Coast. In Suffolk and Norfolk and across the Lincolnshire Fens there is often a ghostly and eerie feel to the flat and barren countryside. The winters can be bitterly cold due to the strong Easterly winds blowing in off the North Sea and the trees often stand out alone in the dark rich soil of the fen farmlands. The roads seem to go on and on for miles in straight lines, cut into deep trenches with fenland dykes on either side. These would merge at the top with colourful skies that Constable enjoyed painting so much.
Kings Lynn is a typical Market Town and the key reason I went there was to visit a certain butcher who made some of the best pork pies I had ever had the privilege of eating. Since childhood I have loved the traditional Lincolnshire Sausage and Haslet alongside the pork pies of the region. They were special and had a taste that could not be matched anywhere else. Butchers across the country copied them but the taste to me was never the same. I had come across this butcher by accident the first time several years ago when the owner seeing Shelley kindly gave me a nice beef bone for her to take away. Surprise; the same thing happened again and she went away as pleased as punch holding this nice juicy bone in her mouth.
We drove on out of the town along the North Norfolk Coast heading towards Holkham Hall which is set in 25,000 acres of farmland and owned by Viscount Coke (The Earl and Countess of Leicester). Always a favourite spot of mine; we parked up by the large lake where I enjoyed my pork pie.