Day 94  Sun 2nd July:  There are very few rules in this challenge. I know this because they are my own rules. If I don’t like them, I can change them. I am accountable only to me. The rules are in my head, nothing written down. The main point goes something like this: Each and every one of the current 237 RNLI Lifeboat Stations must be visited by cycling around the coast of Britain and Ireland. With over 5,000 miles of roads linking the first 178 Stations now cycled I remain determined to complete the challenge. However, you might have noticed that the “unbroken chain of links from one station to another, travelling clockwise around the coast”  can only apply to the mainland of England, Wales and Scotland. To reach the other twenty islands that host a current RNLI Station, from the second largest (Ireland) to the smallest so far (Bara, Outer Hebrides),  it seemed not unreasonable to call upon the services of Caledonian Macbrayne Ferries, Northlink Ferries, Wightlink Ferries and (later) Stena Line and (hopefully sooner, for the Channel Islands and Scilly Isles) FlyBro Air Tours. But what about the many passenger/foot ferries across river estuaries? To use or not to use?  They are fun. Often free. This is a Coastal cycle ride. Without them, I would regularly have to travel many, many more miles inland and back again. As much as I love cycling, I would like, one day to finish this rather long ride. That’s why, today I shall be using two more ferries to cross two big rivers. The first, less than half a mile from the restart point outside Plymouth RNLI Station (many thanks to CabBro Taxis of Gunnislake, a first rate service which included pick-up, delivery to free B&B in the stunning Tamar Valley, fantastic dinner, comfy bed, hearty breakfast and return trip to the precise spot where I dismounted Fondo yesterday) takes me across the mouth of the Tamar, from Devon to Cornwall.

Cornish observation No.1 –  As noticed way back on Day 3, then heading in a north-easterly direction with the sea on my left and the wind on my face, it is just as hilly as Devon.   No.2 – Now, heading west, still with the sea on my left and the wind on my face, I am reminded that Cornwall is virtually an island, surrounded by sea to the south, north and west and the river Tamar to the east, connected to just one other county for barely a mile, on a hill at Shoreston Farm, over 200 metres above sea level. The last three miles of the county boundary follow the course of Marsland Water all the way down to Bude Bay. You could swim or paddle all the way around Cornwall but for one mile of squelching across a big, boggy hill.

Meanwhile, after an hour and a half of short, sharp climbs, cobweb clearing hilltop views and exhilarating (terrifying) descents through dark, wet, tree-tunnel ravines, where the tarmac is still hidden under the nicely composting leaves and twigs from last autumn (Note: next time – carry grappling irons, wear spiked shoes and change to studded tyres) I found myself relying heavily on the excellent new brake pads (thanks Mike@Strada bikes Bristol) on the run in to Looe.  The Lifeboat Station was very easy to locate in this beautiful, compact harbour town, with very little flat land between the two steep sides of the river. The lifeboat slipway must be the shortest in the country. At high tide, the water comes right up to the boathouse doors. A ‘shout’ at the top of a spring tide must see a pretty quick launch, with the water almost lapping the sponsons of the two Inshore Lifeboats. There is definitely a jolly atmosphere in this busy little place. I’m not sure if it was the sunny spell, warm welcome, hot sausage rolls or just the cheery, good humour of the people of Looe. Perhaps it is in their genes.

1868  A race was held between lifeboats from Cadgwith, Lizard, Mullion, Penzance, Sennen Cove, Looe, Fowey and Porthleven.  The race was won by the Looe lifeboat.

1901  On 7 December the lifeboat assisted the vessel Gipsy of Nantes.  Fourteen crew were taken on board the lifeboat and the remaining five got into the ship’s boat and was taken in tow.  With the help of a tug all landed safely at Looe.  Three kittens were also saved.

1902  The French Government awarded a Gold Medal, 2nd class to Coxswain Edward Toms and Silver Medal, 2nd class, to each of the crew for the service to the Gipsy.

1930  Station closed in July.    1992  station re-opens.   2003  New B & D class boathouse and slipway completed at a cost of £763,297.

Many thanks to Ian and Carol Foster, RNLI volunteers on duty at Looe ILB Station, for the kind words of encouragement, mug of tea and Ian’s very professional photo shoot!

And so to Fowey. After the even steeper than usual climb out of Looe, up West Looe Hill the route was more of the same. That’s not to say boring or negative in any sense. More of the same can be really good and today it was. The route did not disappoint. On the final descent to the Bodinnick Ferry, the wind eased, the temperature rose and the already gorgeous views somehow continued to impress more at every turn. Across the deep, dark, still waters of the River Fowey to the next rendezvous with CabBro Taxis for another full-works booking. Time first to treat my driver, tonight’s host and brother Phil to a luxury ice cream to remember (it’s ok, that’s not three people. I’m not that generous. Contrary to rumours regarding his many skills and talents, Phil really is just one person).  If you ever find yourself in Fowey on a hot day with enough time to spare and plenty of cash in your pocket I strongly recommend a visit to the Ferry End Ice Cream Parlour. The Patron, Simon Sassoon, a not too distant relative of the late Vidal Sassoon (I kid you not, he introduced himself) is a hoot. Never before have I witnessed such salesmanship nor seen or heard such enthusiasm for ice cream. Simon had “just come up with an amazing new concept…” and proceeded to demonstrate, at length, his new way of cramming, whist subtly blending flavours, a great deal of Marshfield ice cream into a cone “Instead of two separate balls of different flavours stuck on top, you get the harmonic, blended flavours throughout..”  This, combined with the sound of Joe Sample’s jazz piano in the background was real entertainment. I had to admit, this was possibly the nicest and certainly the heaviest ice cream cone I have eaten. Simon asked for suggestions for a name for his new product. I clumsily suggested “Cool Jazz Licks“.  As Mr Sassoon deftly added the coiffure’s final touch with the edge of his scoop, he raised one eyebrow, half smiled and looked me square in the eye, whispering “I think I like that.”

Time to move on. This being a Sunday afternoon, I shall not be visiting the Fowey ALB Station today. On returning to this precise location tomorrow, the planned Monday morning visit should be a great way to start the day.

Day 93 Sat 2 July:   The morning after the famous Welsh victory over Belgium, with Kevin’s very generous Ship Inn Dock fry-up weighing heavily on my stomach, today’s ‘big breakfast climb’ was even more of a challenge than usual.  From the deep green wooded Dart estuary, up and over more Devon hills, back down to sea level at Slapton Sands (sight of one of the worst WW2 tragedies), along the sand bar to Torcross. More hard climbing and a steep descent to another scenic river port at Salcombe, reached by a ferry from East Portlemouth, where again the fare was kindly waived. I must hang on to this Lifeboat vest. Although smaller and officially less densely populated than Dartmouth, Salcombe’s famously high proportion of ‘second home & small boat’ owners create a very different atmosphere. Tightly packed old streets with new shopfronts (more estate agents, restaurants, galleries & gift shops than cobblers, sail makers & chandlers) too narrow for today’s overflowing pavements and oversized 4×4 cars. It does however have an Atlantic B Class Inshore RIB in the old Dutch gabled boathouse and a Tamar Class ALB in readiness on the river. A confidence boosting sight for the users of the few working boats and many leisure craft sailing out of Salcombe Harbour, up Batson and Southpool Creeks, or the Kingsbridge Estuary today. A hundred years ago, things were very different. This is another Lifeboat Station with a tragic history:

On 27 October 1916 Salcombe lifeboat William and Emma capsized at Salcombe Harbour entrance drowning 13 of her crew of 15.  The crew of the casualty, Plymouth schooner Western Lass, which had gone ashore to the east of Prawle Point in a furious gale was rescued by the coastguard but it was not possible to communicate with the lifeboat.  One of the survivors from the lifeboat, Edwin Distin became coxswain of the replacement boat Sarah Ann Holden which arrived in April 1917.  A new crew of 13 was readily available in spite of the war.  Committee of Management voted £2,200 to local fund and £75 to meet immediate needs and paid funeral expenses.  The names of those who died were J A Cranham, J A Crook, J H Cove, J A Cudd, F W Cudd, A Dustin, S M Dustin, P H Foale, P H Foale (Jnr), W J Foale, W W Lambie, T Putt, and A E Wood.

Thanks Andy (Salcombe Lifeboat Mechanic) for meeting me and adding the 177th signature to the chart. A quick tea & malt loaf top-up before the last big climb of the day, on to the relatively gentle but long and winding, undulating Devon roads through the South Hams, heading west towards Plymouth, where brethren shall once more meet. And we did. And it was good. Thanks be to John Wood, a regular road cyclist, out on a Saurday afternoon spin, obliged to stop at the same red lights. The first of many junctions on approach to Devon’s largest conurbation. John clearly recognised the signs of a long distance pedaller ‘running on empty’ and on hearing a little of the scale of my quest, happily took on the role of chief guide to (and coffee buyer at) the Plymouth Barbican. Never underestimate the restorative power of a cup of strong, sweet coffee and a bit of mutual admiration cycle-babble at a cafe like Rockets & Rascals Bicycle Emporium. Re-energised, we remounted our titanium steeds and sprinted over the cobbles, around The Hoe and into the Millbay Marina Village, the site of Plymouth A&ILB Station. Thanks John, it would have taken me a lot longer to find without the coffee break and your local nouse. Your generous cash donation to The Cause was the icing on the cake.

This being a Saturday afternoon, I had not expected to meet any of the Plymouth Lifeboat crew today and had accepted Cox’n Sean’s kind offer to meet on Sunday morning, before heading off across the border into Cornwall. I had expected to meet Phil (bro) & Carol (S-i-L), my local hosts for the night, just across (and a few miles up) the Tamar in Gunnislake but I hadn’t expected such a fine reception! Thanks to P&C plus Charlotte & Mike and Colin & Jean for being there. That would have been enough excitement for one day. You really shouldn’t have staged the mock emergency in the harbour just to get the full attention of the local Lifeboat crew. Thanks Sean M (2nd Cox’n) for signing the chart today, saving Sean O’K the job of turning out on a Sunday morning. It was good to meet some of the crew today, at this most historic station, now sited in the old octagonal granite Custom House.

Plymouth was one of the first places on the coast of Great Britain to have a lifeboat.  This was one of the 31 boats built by Henry Greathead of South Shields, the builder of the first lifeboat on our coasts, which was stationed at South Shields in 1789.  The first Plymouth boat was stationed here in 1803.  She was a gift to Plymouth from Philip Langmead MP.  There is no record of her service.  The Royal National Lifeboat Institution itself was founded in 1824.  It at once placed at Plymouth Captain Manbys mortar apparatus for firing lines to ships in distress, and in the following year it sent a lifeboat.

Devon done. Cornwall, here I come.

Day 92  Friday 1 July:  It took a moment to get my bearings in Exmouth. No problem finding the new Lifeboat Station, the only building on the beach side of Queen’s Drive. But where have all the sand dunes gone? Apparently the once carefully preserved dunes have been completely blown away, devastated by the storms of a couple of winters ago. There is now a neat new stone retaining wall along that section of the sea front, all the way from the Lifeboat Station to the Esplanade.

Many thanks to Emma, the Lifeboat Press Officer and Andy, Station Mechanic, for the welcome and full tour of the new Shannon in it’s fine boathouse. A great improvement on the old harbour arrangement. This station has an impressive record of service over the last 200 years, with one particularly unfortunate period causing pause for thought. The dangers and challenges of responding to a shout can begin well before the lifeboat is on the water:

1938  Thanks of the Institution inscribed on Vellum was accorded to Coxswain Thomas Horne for the launch on 15 January.  At 0530 a report that rockets had been seen off Lyme Regis and it was decided to launch the motor lifeboat Catherine Harriet Eaton.  A gale was blowing from the southwest against the spring ebb tide, making a very heavy sea in the bay.  A big bank of sand had formed on the beach and this and the heavy seas made the work of launching extremely difficult.  Thirty-two launchers took part, the Honorary Secretary and Honorary Treasurer of the station wading out to encourage them, and it was not until the fourth attempt that the launchers succeeded in getting the lifeboat underway.  For six hours the lifeboat searched in the gale, but could find no vessel in distress.  She returned to station at 1345. 

1952  Lifeboat signalman Samuel Gifford fell from his bicycle when answering a service call on 6 July and sustained severe bruising and abrasions.  He went on service but on returning was taken to hospital and later had a stroke.  He died on 25 December 1953.  His wife received an allowance from the Institution until she died April 1980.

1953  Crew member P S Gifford was fatally injured en route to a launch.

The first few Devon miles were a lot easier this morning, following the safe, flat cycle route along the River Exe estuary, via Star Cross and Dawlish, parallel with this famous section of the main railway line. The image remains, of the dangling rails over the huge void, the embankment battered & washed away by the same storms that took away Exmouth’s sand dunes. With the route quickly restored and reinforced the Penzance trains still run along this dramatic coast, beneath the red cliffs, through cuttings and tunnels. Sadly, bicycles aren’t allowed to use the same route, so it’s up&over a couple of big climbs before rolling all the way back down to sea level at Teignmouth. The ILB Station here still uses the original solid stone boat house, now home to an Atlantic 85 RIB, slightly quicker than the original boat placed on service in here in 1851. Thanks Peter, for the cheery greeting and coffee. Thanks also to someone I’d already met a few hundred miles back, on the Norfolk coast at Wells-next-the-Sea. Great to meet you again Morgan, on your own Devon patch.

Time for another ferry ride, this time courtesy of ex LB crew member Reg, still a lifeboat launch tractor driver and now ferry operator from Teignmouth to Shaldon Beach. Thanks Reg, for the complimentary ride on the fine old boat. Back on the roller-coaster road up & over to Torbay, via Torquay (still no herds of wilderbeast, as imagined by Basil Fawlty), Paignton and on to Brixham Breakwater, the location of the current Torbay ALB Station. Mark, the Station Mechanic explained how there were once two lifeboats covering the wide expanse of Torbay. The resources were rationalised and the current Severn and a D class now cover an even bigger stretch of coast. One more big climb up and over the headland, down to the beatiful setting for the Kingswear Ferry across to Dartmouth. The Dart Steam Railway still operates along the east side of the river. Rob, the Dart Lifeboat Ops Manager remembers Falmouth GWR Station, the only railway station in the country that never had a train at its platform. Passengers started their journey by getting on to the original steam boat to cross the river to the steam train.

HUGE Thanks to Rob and Kevin (LB crew and Landlord of the Ship Inn Dock) for helping to make this a most memorable visit to a beatiful old town, steeped in maritime history and this evening, the setting for my witnessing on live television, the most glorious moment (so-far) in the history of Welsh Football, In the company of some fine figures of Welsh (plus a couple of English and one Dutch) men and women. Cheers Kevin, Mike, Scratch, Alana-Myfanwyy, Sam and Saskia and a couple of young Royal Navy Officers. As my brother John so eloquently summed up the performance in his text message, “Cymru am Byth”

Day 91  Thurs 30 June:  Two good nights at the Harbour House in Weymouth, in a room with a mini balcony, a harbour view, all mod cons, friendly, helpful and good humoured hosts and two good breakfasts. What more could I ask? Not a lot, so I didn’t. Even so, a very kind and generous discount was given, in recognition of the “worthy cause”. Thank you Doris.

With no rain, peaceful, quiet, beautiful country lanes, a few good leg-warming hills and the prospect of cycling along the Chesil Beach road from Abbotsbury to West Bexington (as suggested by Garmin and Google maps) there was not much to complain about. Great progress, until the tarmac stopped at East Bexington. The road became a rough track which became a narrow, slippery, bumpy coast path, which became a flooded mud bath. Not the cycle lane shown on Garmin. A local lad reckoned he might just about get his mountain bike through, but wasn’t going to try. He was clearly amused and pleased to inform me, with a grin and a nod towards Fondo, that there was “no way mate, not on that. You’ll have to go all the way back to the main road and up Abbotsbury Hill “.

At last, plenty to complain about. I’m not sure why, but the Dorset and South Devon roads are more inclined to go straight up and over the hills instead of around them. This became the hardest day of cycling since Scotland, by a country mile (or 60). If those North Yorkshire climbs of a few weeks back qualify as God’s Own Country, I hesitate to re-christen this part of the country, over endowed with mega hills, deep green valleys and stunning coastal views.

Up and eventually down to Lyme Regis, along the neatly restored and reinforced promenade, to the boat house at the shore end of a familiar structure. The Cob, made famous by a French Lieutenant and his Woman (aka Jeremy and Meryl) in the 1981 film of the John Fowles book. This solid stone boat house could not be seen in the film. Nothing to do with clever CGI. It wasn’t built until the late 1990s. Thanks Sylvia, (RNLI Shop Volunteer and Lifeboat Crew Mother), for signing the chart as a representative of the volunteer crew who were all earning a living elsewhere in the locality. There’s always one last resort when it hasn’t been possible to make contact with any of the crew, but cycling off the end of the pier (or The Cob) just to gain their attention probably isn’t a good idea.

Day 90  Tuesday 28 June:  After many days of planning and a few days of changing weather forecasts, only the pilot could make the call. Perfect conditions are not necessary for a light two-seater aircraft such as Neil’s, but safe conditions, i.e. visibility good enough to see the airfield you are planning to land on, are essential. Every update to the forecast showed an increased chance of dense cloud cover, heavier rain and strengthening wind gusts. The Channel Island Lifeboat Stations would have to wait. So, several phone calls and emails later, everyone who needed to know had been contacted.

No point hanging around. Fondo & I don’t need the same conditions on the road. Westward Ho! Not the place in Devon.  Been there, done that (unintentionally) when heading for Appledore, many, many Lifeboats ago. Swanage and Exmouth will do for today. From Poole, via the Sandbanks ferry to the last couple of flat miles before a few gentle climbs remind us that we are now approaching the not so insignificant hills along the Dorset and South Devon Jurassic coast. More than forty years since my last visit to Swanage, it hasn’t lost its charm. The weather change hasn’t hit us yet. David, the Swanage ALB coxswain had assured me that, despite the demolition of the old boat house, there would be no difficulty in finding the temporary boat shed. He was right. The big clue, visible from the opposite end of the bay, was the familiar giant jack-up barge, last seen being towed away from the site of St David’s new Lifeboat Station, way back on  Day 11 . The construction of the new boathouse, with a double slip launch, is well under way. The bigger of the two slips is for the new Shannon lifeboat, already here, waiting at its temporary mooring. Having cycled 13 miles from Poole, I couldn’t help noticing the new boat’s fleet number, 13 13. The first 13 denotes the 13 metre Shannon Class, the second 13 tells us this is the 13th of its type built. Are David’s crew superstitious? Apparently not. Just as well. The Cox’n went on to explain that this is the 13th Swanage Lifeboat since the first one was commissioned 1875. It has two 13 litre engines. It has two 13 thousand litre fuel tanks. Both 650 horsepower engines combine to produce 13 hundred hp. There are 13 ‘Powerplex’ electronic control boxes. All true. How many 13s are there in this paragraph? Good luck chaps.

Time to move on. But just as I started to roll, the Station PA system squawked loudly “Clear the slipway. Lifeboat launching. Clear the slipway. Lifeboat crew arriving. Keep clear. …”  More out of genuine interest than morbid curiosity, I stopped, tucked Fondo out of the way and proceeded to watch and record the whole episode of this real, live fly-on-the-wall drama unfold. The first crew member to join David appeared in just under 4 minutes. Within 7 minutes, there was enough crew to man both ALB and ILB and the boarding boat was out of the temporary boat shed and on its way down the slip. About 4 minutes after the crew boarded the Shannon, the moorings were slipped and it was motoring out of the bay. The D Class ILB had also disappeared around the headland to the south. In the middle of a working weekday, this is a very impressive response time. At the time of writing, the nature and outcome of this double call to service is unknown. I could have waited, possibly for a very long time to find out. But I’m no paparazzi on a moped. I need to reach Weymouth, another 29 miles along the coast before the worst of the weather hits.

I didn’t beat the incoming black clouds. They had the advantage of a strong wind behind them. We met head-on about 10 miles east of Weymouth. I had been warned.

Andy, the Weymouth Cox’n, had invited me to meet his crew around 6.30 this evening, this being their regular Tuesday exercise time. Plenty of time for a hot shower and a quick cuppa at the Harbour House first.
In the middle of the narrow, busy harbour, the big Severn Class ALB was easy enough to find. Many thanks to Andy, Malclom and all the crew for the warm, dry welcome. They’d even stopped the rain and laid on sunshine for my arrival. A  peep at the  Weymouth Lifeboat  website will show you how busy this station is, their two lifeboats being regularly tasked with covering “the treacherous waters off Portland Bill”,  a sea area known for throwing up challenges beyond the usual demands of experienced yachtsmen. The only way I would consider sailing anywhere near such waters would be in the company of the most experienced crew, in one of the safest boats to be found. Half an hour later, that’s exactly where I was. What a day this has turned out to be. I am indeed a lucky, privileged chap to have witnessed first hand, the professionalism of an RNLI crew on a navigational exercise. Thanks again to Tye, Kevin, Lyle, both Tims, Andrew and most importantly, the man who drew the short straw, Graham, my personal ‘minder’, who had the unsavoury task of watching my every move and ensuring my safety. I now know just a little more about what most of you Lifeboat men and women are prepared to go through and what many of you have already experienced. My respect for all of you has just gone up another notch.

Monday 27 June, a No Cycling Day:   Sorry Fondo, you’ll have to stay in the cupboard under the stairs today. But it’s a lovely cupboard, made of glass bricks.

I can now confirm, Poole really is the centre of the RNLI Universe. At every Lifeboat Station visited so far, at least one of the crew has sung the praises of the new (2004) RNLI College, where most of them have been for at least some of their training. Not only are there fantastic facilities for such training, the accommodation is so good that it is considered by many as the finest hotel in Poole. If you time it right, you (yes even you) can book a room here. If you’re ever in the area, I would thoroughly recommend it. While you’re at it, book a tour of the college. You will not regret it. Here is the link, if you require further temptation. On that note, I won’t spoil it by banging on too much about the experience. They have a very ethical philosophy too (environmentally,  ecologically, health, well-being) but most impressively, the policy of using the best equipment and components for training and in service, from yellow wellies to the manufacture and maintenance of their Lifeboats.  “Hang on …”  I hear you thinking  “… isn’t that a bit extravagant for an organisation funded entirely from voluntary contributions?”  Well, no. The vast majority of Lifeboat crew members are volunteers who go out in all conditions, putting their own lives on the line to save the lives of others. They deserve and need the best and most reliable kit. And to make the most of it, professional training.

It might also appear to some of us, seeing such fantastic facilities here and in some of the great new Lifeboat Stations around the coast, that the RNLI has loads of spare cash sloshing around. Not so. If the big bequests and equally important drip feed of regular public contributions stopped today, the RNLI would grind to a halt very quickly. I don’t think Boris, or whoever will be leading our Government, will be in a position to bale out the Lifeboats. Let’s face it, would we really want them to take the helm?

If you’d like to support my fundraising challenge, please click  here , where every pound raised will go directly to the RNLI, the charity that saves lives at sea. Thank you. Steven.

Day 89  Sunday 26 June: The week back home started so well. A welcome fix of family & friends catch-up time, grandson’s 4th birthday, lots of useful planning & communicating…  For some of us (62% in Bristol), the week ended in gloom and despair …. Being back on the road today is at least a welcome distraction from the pain and angst of the State of The Nation.

Many thanks to the wonderful Sheila (aka Peggy Webster) and her delightful daughters Sophie & Katy for putting me up and putting up with me last night in the deep south of leafy Hampshire, thus making it possible for me to make an early start back at Lymington, where I stopped pedalling after day 88 on the Isle of Wight. Thanks to you girls, I am now one step closer to understanding social  media. Only a few thousand miles away from full competence. Apologies to my own daughter Kate, who specified that 6.2 of the 20 miles-worth of her RNLI donation were from Lymington to Hurst Spit. Thanks Kate. Beautiful, but not all cycleable. Saltgrass  Lane was ok, but the sand & shingle along the spit was too much to ask of Fondo.

And so to Mudeford ILB Station. Good timing. Plenty of crew around. Plenty of action. Great welcome. Thanks to Richard (LOM), Mel (Crew, fellow biker and specialist in high energy food), Ian (Dep Helm), Jane (Lifeboat Admin, another very enthusiastic new cycle buddy) and to the rest of the crew on exercise. It was a privilege to meet you all and see so much going on! Further thanks to Jane for escorting me to the Mudeford to Hengistbury Ferry, introducing me to Julie the Ferry operator, who announced to the captive audience of fellow passengers who I was and what I was doing, suggesting they might like to make a donation to the RNLI before disembarking. No pressure. This day of Wonderful Women continues. Thanks to Julie, and to those who did as they were told. Quite humbling to be on the receiving end of a spontaneous burst of applause.

During the months of July and August, between the hours of 10:00 – 18:00, NO CYCLING is allowed along the wide, flat, smooth, 7 mile, traffic-free section of National Cycle Route 2 from Boscombe Promenade, via Bournemouth Undercliffe to Sandbanks. But today is still June and I see a couple of confident cyclists ahead, making good progress. Even so, every 100 metres, the same blue signs remind us that PEDESTRIANS (including members of National Amblers in groups of 9 abreast and dog walkers, releasing their lethal extending trip-wire weapons) HAVE PRIORITY. Quite right. I suppose. Should’ve listened to Mel. Too late now. Just grin and bear it. Slow progress, but still worth weaving & dodging through. 

A bit behind schedule on arrival at Poole. It’s obviously annual Stop the Cyclist Day. The last 500 yards of The Quay on final approach to Poole ALB Station is closed to traffic, including bicycles. Folk on the Quay. Another warning sign? No, a very popular festival. Heaving. Apologies to the Morris Dancer who bashed his shin against Fondo’s pedal. It’s ok, Fondo’s fine.  Perhaps louder bells would have prevented the minor collision.

But what a welcome! Two brothers, two friends and a large handful of Lifeboat Crew at Poole ALB Station. It would have been three brothers if Brother John had not been temporarily hamstrung by the aftermath of a prior engagement. We know where you’d rather have been Big Bro. As you said yourself, you were there in spirit. I swear I saw you in the Slipway Bar later.

Meanwhile, back at Poole ALB Station … many thanks to Nick (2nd Cox’n), Gavin (Helm), Neil(3rd Mech/helm), Adrian, Alex, Suzie, and Will (all crew) for keeping my gang entertained. They all thought you guys are amazing. I wouldn’t’ dare disagree.   Poole Lifeboat Station is not part of the RNLI College & H.Q., just 5 mins up to road. There has been a lifeboat station in Poole for almost 150 years. The original boat house at the Fishermen’s Dock  is now a Lifeboat Museum. The current Station has a Tyne Class All-Weather Lifeboat afloat in the harbour and an Atlantic 85 ILB in a floating boathouse. Sadly the old Tyne’s days are numbered and it may not be replaced with a state of the art Shannon ALB, as built less than half a mile up stream, but a wee workhorse in the shape of a nimble little D Class ILB to keep the current Atlantic RIB company.

Thank you Neil, Phil, Nick and Helen for the great team effort at the Brewhouse. I couldn’t have managed the pork pie starters and all 5 Sunday roasts without you. A very pleasant way to spend a cool, grey, damp mid summer afternoon.

Day 88  Thurs 16 June:  Rushing a breakfast as good as the one prepared by the Mayflower’s chef may be unforgivable but missing the next Isle of Wight ferry from Lymington Pier might render today’s target of cycling the full coastal circuit of The Island unattainable. Maybe there’s just enough time to wolf the last few slices of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs and stuff the pain chocolat and banana into my jersey back pocket. The 65 mile circuit alone could probably (without the usual full panniers) be completed comfortably within five hours. That won’t happen. I have three very important visits planned en route plus a suggested minor detour to a fourth important venue. Unlike breakfast, none of them can be enjoyed if rushed. A quick but sincere thank you to the jolly Mayflower crew and a final favour sought: “Could you please look after these two heavy bags for the day?”

Ferry caught on time, flat calm crossing, warm enough to sit on deck without a jacket. One fellow passenger was clearly wondering why I was so amused, possibly chuckling or even sniggering to myself. Sorry, it was just the obvious old schoolboy joke that suddenly popped into my head: Q.” What’s brown and smelly and comes out of cows?” Ans: “The Isle of Wight Ferry!”   I know, it should have a capital C and an e. It doesn’t work when written properly. Yes, I know the Cowes ferry hasn’t been brown for years and it isn’t really smelly, I think it was just a comment on the rusty streaks and the black smoke from the funnels … oh, never mind.

The first Lifeboat of the day, a big Severn Class was very conveniently placed in the harbour just a few yards from the ferry terminal. Not their own, but a relief boat, whilst the Yarmouth boat, having recently been upgraded and fitted with new CMT engines had suffered teething troubles with the new gearbox. Literally. A gearbox being the most likely place to find teeth. Thanks Richard (mechanic) for the interesting chat about the merits of the major refit all Severn Class boats will eventually have. The one based here covers the western end of the Solent, including the familiar and infamous Needles, the dramatic, jagged shards of white chalk cliffs that might seem too big and white to miss, but have claimed more than a few ships over the last few centuries. Seventeen awards for gallantry have been presented to crew members of the Yarmouth Lifeboat over the last 150 years.

On with the clockwise circuit of the island. I’m not sure what I was expecting of the Isle of Wight. Probably something a bit different. It’s almost disappointing to report that I’m hearing the same Chaffinch song, seeing the same oak, ash and sycamore trees, beech & hawthorn hedges, brick and stone houses, feeling the same potholes, manhole covers and cats eyes .. it’s just a big bit of Hampshire that’s broken loose and drifted a few miles out to sea. No offence to you Wight Islanders. This is a beautiful place, with a fascinating history and some great attractions. But today my focus is a bit narrow. Where is Cowes Inshore Lifeboat Station? At the end of a narrow lane off the High Street. A busy station this morning. Another cheery welcome from another great bunch. First thanks go to young Will (shore crew) for the tour and for sharing your obvious pride in this tastefully modernised old coastguard station, with a prime view of the harbour approaches and the incredibly busy centre section of The Solent. Every Lifeboat Station seems to have a claim. Biggest or smallest or oldest or newest or slowest or fastest or busiest or quietest … but Will was delighted to show me theirs – the only one in the country that has full-sized, curved rails for the launching of the Atlantic B Class Lifeboat down a dog-legged slipway. That’s quite an impressive claim. Thanks also to Mark (LOM), Sandy (DLA), Dave (shore crew) and another Mark (Mechanic & Helm). A great atmosphere in this relatively new (2008) Station which was not officially opened by HM The Queen until 2012. HM was obviously very busy.

Before leaving Cowes, there are two more local items on today’s agenda. First, the crossing of the Cowes Floating Bridge. Now there’s a concept for my 4yr old grandson to get his head around. This old chain link ferry has been rumbling across the River Medina for donkeys years, linking Cowes with East Cowes. Exactly what I need right now, for the short hop across the harbour to the RNLI Inshore Lifeboat Centre. This is where all the new Atlantic B Class and D Class boats are manufactured and returned for their 10 year refit, repairs and upgrades. A very impressive set up, well worth a visit.

Back on the road, heading towards the most easterly point of the island. Apart from taking one wrong turn and adding a couple of extra cycle miles, followed by the inevitable bursting of the black clouds that had been following me for some time, things were still going quite well. Drenched but not deflated, the arrival at Bembridge coincided with the parting of the clouds, the instant warmth of the mid June sun quickly drying the roads and damp cyclists. Many thanks to Steve, the full-time Bembridge Cox’n, for the additional warmth of the hot tea & ginger nuts, the kind welcome and the full tour of the magnificent new boathouse at the end of the rebuilt pier. This well-known local landmark, now even easier to spot, has been the strategically placed base for Bembridge lifeboat, covering the very busy eastern approaches to the Solent for many years. With Portsmouth’s naval base, Southampton’s ocean going liners and the huge sailing & leisure boating fraternity centred around Cowes, it has a long history of service to the seafaring community. And probably a long future.

So, did I make it around the island in a day? Yes, I did. There were just enough cooling showers to stop me overheating on the hillier parts of the south Wight coast, without being heavy enough to obscure my views of the beautiful coastline before returning to the mainland, via the still calm Solent water from Yarmouth to Lymington.

Interesting fact of the day: Most of us are probably aware of the invasive nature of Japanese Knotweed, which has been gradually creeping across Britain for over 50 years. Today, I was shown a new invader that has taken a liking to our shoreline. Just beneath the pier at Bembridge can be seen Japanese Seaweed. Don’t tell the Leave campaigners. It’ll only add fuel to their fire.

 

Day 87  Weds 15 June: It’s a long time since I last woke up in Southsea. Some time in the late 1970s.  No, I haven’t been sleeping all that time. My mum had a big old Victorian house here for a few years. Today, cycling through Southsea towards the Portsmouth > Gosport ferry, I suddenly recalled one of those huge gatherings at Christmas, when brothers & sisters, scattered far and wide around the country, converged on the Victoria Road North house, bringing children & in-laws.  The most memorable moment being when my fun-loving father-in-law lifted my brother’s kindly, good humoured mother-in-law and stood her in a tall, narrow pedal bin. As one did in the 1970s. Sadly, the unstable bin toppled. Poor old Win. Never one to complain, she wondered if, the next day, someone would be kind enough to take her to Casualty to have her broken wrist attended to.

Today, even if I’d been a complete stranger to Portsmouth, finding my way to the Gosport Ferry couldn’t have been easier. The ‘new’ Spinnaker Tower, now 11 years old, 2.5 times taller than Nelson’s Column, was built on the quay alongside the Gosport Ferry. Quite easy to spot from miles around, easy to negotiate with a bicycle.

Just 20 (mostly urban) miles later, the second ferry of the day, departing from Southampton Town Pier, was also quite easy to locate. Disembarking at Hythe, on the western shore of Southampton Water, was a little more exciting. Pushing Fondo up the steep metal ramp to the pier deck level, wearing metal cleated cycling shoes was the first challenge. That done, the realisation that I had landed at the end of another very long (700 yards) pier dawned when I saw an ancient electric locomotive and several tiny carriages on a narrow gauged railway, rapidly filling with my fellow foot passengers, unencumbered by bicycles. Discovering that this railway is the oldest continuously operating public pier train in the world reminded me of that other World Record Breaking Pier in Southend. The longest pier in the world, but with an interrupted railway history. The 1.34 mile long one that I wasn’t allowed to cycle along. Thankfully, there were no obvious NO CYCLING signs here. Just as well, as there’s no way Fondo would fit into one of those sweet little carriages. Even so, I daren’t ask. Just get pedalling. Apart from the average gap between the long pier planks being almost as wide as my skinny tyres, it was plain pedalling. As long as I kept focussed on the centre line of each 9 inch  plank, I should arrive safely in Hythe (the town at the far end of the pier) without incident. A bit scary, but I did.

Just 7 more leafy, gently undulating miles to the next Lifeboat Station at Calshot. Hidden behind the trees for most of this section of the ride is one of Europe’s biggest oil refineries. The highest structure at Fawley is the redundant old oil-fired power station’s huge (198 metre) chimney, now more useful as a navigational aid than anything else. Calshot ILB Station is sited at the end of The Spit at the mouth of Southampton Water. This site has a rich history of other strategically placed structures. Calshot Tower, next door to the Lifeboat Station, is now used by the National Coastwatch Institution. Amongst the few other neighbours are Calshot Castle (Henry VIII’s original artillery fort) and the huge old Short Sunderland WW2 Flying Boat Hangars. This was once RAF Calshot. The current Atlantic 85 and D Class Lifeboats are launched via one of the old Sunderland slipways. Thank you Tim (DLA), Paul (Lifeboat Mechanic and crew), Damian (crew) and the local painters & decorators for the good company and informative conversations over a decent cup of tea & biscuits.

A moment to pause, before setting off on the final leg of today’s ride, to soak up some of the atmosphere and imagine the sights & sounds from the early & middle parts of the last century. The sound of the world airspeed record breaking, Schneider Trophy winning Supermarine S6B’s unsilenced RollsRoyce engine. This, the forerunner of the Spitfire, was developed, tested and flown from this spot, on this Spit.   The mass of an enormous Sunderland Flying Boat being slipped into the water, the throb of four huge engines as it slowly picked up enough speed on Southampton Water to eventually defy gravity and take to the air.

Meanwhile, back in present day Calshot, it’s probably time to slip onto the leather saddle, click into the pedals and start cranking Fondo’s pedals until man and machine pick up enough momentum to defy the headwind and roll on, through the New Forest and down to Lymington. The New Forest is not all trees. On a day like this, I wish it was. Just beyond the idyllic setting of Beaulieu village, the road gently winds up to an exposed, raised plateau with a long, straight stretch of road. The strong westerly headwind would have been ideal as an aid to becoming airborne if I’d been waiting for clearance to take off from the now adjacent, long time abandoned runway, once the site of RAF Beaulieu. Today, the conditions are just an aid to early exhaustion.

Just enough left in the legs to get through the forest and over the top of this unwooded stretch of the New Forest National Park. A bit late in the day for dragging out ILB crew volunteers here in Lymington. A shower, change of clothing and big bar meal at The Mayflower was the greater need. Many thanks to Richard, one of the Lymington  ILB volunteers, for agreeing to the revised plan. And many thanks to Will and the rest of the staff at The Mayflower for the fantastic three course meal “on the house”. There was still enough daylight left for an evening tour of the Lifeboat Station, right next door.

If you’d like to support my fundraising challenge, please click  here , where every pound raised will go directly to the RNLI, the charity that saves lives at sea. Thank you. Steven.

 

Day 86   Tues 14 June:  Sorry Bill, we never did meet up. I cycled all the way to the end of Selsey Promenade looking for you. Apparently you were there all the time. Oh well, plenty of excitement back up the prom.  It’s all happening at Selsey A&ILB Station. Sad news first? The days of walking the planks along the old pier to the boathouse, where one of the few remaining Tyne class All-weather Lifeboats still serves, are numbered. The good news is – they’ve started building the new boathouse at the shore end of the pier, in readiness for a new Shannon. The plans look fantastic. A combined A&ILB Station with modern crew facilities, RNLI shop and Sea Safety Information Centre. Thanks Martin and Phil (Cox’n & Mech) for the full tour of the old and (incomplete) new facilities. The signature arched glue-lam beams, common to most of the big 21^st Century boat houses, are already up, but there’s still plenty to do if the November 2016 completion is to be met. The Lifeboat here is historically rooted at the heart of the very supportive local community. Not all Lifeboat Stations are quite so fortunate. Some of the equally essential, strategically placed lifeboats visited over the last 85 days are much more isolated, receiving a much lighter ‘foot-fall’ than the likes of Blackpool, Skegness or Tenby and rely much more heavily upon the central RNLI fund, which is still sourced entirely from voluntary contributions. That’s why I’m still pedalling, even when it seems that some Lifeboat Stations are relatively well off.

A series of straight line, low flying cormorant distances between today’s first three Lifeboat Stations is just 12.2 miles (Selsey to Hayling Island, 8; Hayling Island to Portsmouth, 4.2).

The actual distance via the most direct, safe roads & cycle paths using the well-established, reliable Hayling Island<->Porstmouth passenger/cycle ferry service (still recommended by Google, Garmin and O.S.) is around 30 miles, making the original plan to cycle another 34 to a fourth station at Calshot an achievable 64 target today, despite the continuing strong westerly wind.  Alas, according to up-to-date local knowledge, the H.I.<->Pompey ferry is no more. That now makes it 54 just to Portsmouth ILB, at the far eastern tip of Portsea Island. That, plus a couple of miles to find a bed for the night in the Southsea area, sounds enough for today.

What a heart-warming, stomach-filling welcome at Hayling Island ILB Station! The fish & chip lunch was more than enough to stop me grumbling about the demise of a ferry service. Never moan with your mouth full. Especially when someone else is paying. Thank you so much Peter (DLA/duty LOM), Sharon (crew) and Trevor (Paramedic/ex crew/Station comic) for the great welcome, generous treat and sound advice on the route back off the island via Chichester on The Billy Trail, all the way to Portsmouth ILB Station.

Another kind welcome, energy boosting cold drink and useful accommodation contacts, thanks to Jackie (Porstmouth LOM). This busy ILB Station covers much of the eastern half of The Solent and all of the large Langstone Harbour area. For a flavour of a typical local incident, click HERE for a hot-off-the-press report of a response to a call for assistance from this Lifeboat soon after my visit. Not the most dramatic, but certainly a typical and frequent task.