Day 75  Tues 24 May:   Apologies for the over-long titles in Norfolk. There’s clearly a policy of throwing in a good mix of extra vowels & consonants. Whoy waste ’em? Perhaps it’s a sign of prosperity to have a longer place name. But that would make Cromer and Cley the poor cousins to Happisburgh (pronounced ‘Haysbru’ of course). The shortest of visits to these places would blow that theory right out of the water.

Thank you Clive (DLA) at Sheringham ILB Station, for turning out to sign the increasingly dog-eared, well worn chart and the effervescent Maggie (RNLI Shop Volunteer) for the souvenir pin badge and much appreciated enthusiasm and words of encouragement. Seeing your Atlantic B Class launching into today’s Northerly assisted crashing surf on the heavy going shingle beach would have been quite dramatic. Thankfully, a launch wasn’t necessary.

The short ride to neighbouring Cromer serves as a reminder that Norfolk is not, as many mistakenly believe, flat. It’s not  exactly the North York Moors, nor the Exmoor or Pembrokeshire Coast. It’s just beautifully, gently undulating and winding. Lush, green and teaming with wildlife. A twitchers’ paradise. This coast is the host to more telephoto lenses than a 1997 paparazzi convention in Paris.

Cromer’s ALB Station is big, modern and unmissable. Situated at the end of the pier, it can be seen from almost anywhere for miles around. Very similar in style to those way back in Wales, like Mumbles, Tenby, Porthdinllaen and Moelfre. Is this another Clive Moore design? I must check. How are you Clive? Are you still out there? I’ve just looked back at Day 14, back in October and began to feel nostalgic – about part of something I haven’t even finished yet!  Keep cycling my friend.

Meanwhile, back in present day Norfolk, thanks Richard, for the contacts and Paul, for the welcome at Cromer. Tempted to stuff a couple of fresh crabs in my bags before leaving, but not sure how well they’d travel over the remaining 50 miles of Norfolk & Suffolk lanes to Lowestoft this afternoon.

A glorious ride to today’s next stop, Happisburgh. Parts of the coastline over the last few miles are now much closer to the road than they once were. Coastal erosion is still a major concern. But Happisburgh ILB Station seems pretty secure behind the tall, reinforced dunes. Thank you Cedric(LOM) and Bob (Retained Mech & Tractor Driver) for everything, including the sound advice on choice of routes to the next LBStn.  Was it cruel of me to buy my grandson, who is learning to read, a gift which has the very unphonetic name of this place embroidered boldly across the front?

The fourth and final Lifeboat Station of the day held a bit of a surprise in store for me today, again casting my mind back, this time to Day 1 in St Ives, Cornwall. The Cox’n who opened the door to me at Great Yarmouth & Gorleston ALBStn was not a new face. Francie Morgan, a Fleet Staff Coxswain (or RNLI Gypsy, as he calls himself) is here to cover for the full time regular Cox’n who is away on holiday. Having also been doing the same in St Ives when I passed through on Day 1, Francie has the honour of being the only person to have signed my chart twice. And, being regularly on duty in his Irish homeland, there’s every chance I could meet him again one day before this adventure is over. It was great to catch up with you Francie and hear some more of your tales of yore.

So, from the more industrial, busy harbour setting of Great Yarmouth, it’s just a few more miles to Lowestoft, the home of my late mother in law, Linda, the catalyst for this whole RNLI Fundraising adventure. The Lifeboat Station visit can wait a day or two.  Time for a few days off here in Lowestoft, the most easterly point of Britain, with Linda’s two lovely daughters, my dear wife Claire and sister in law Jane, on this, the third anniversary of their mum’s passing.

Day 74  Monday 23 May:  Or, to give it it’s full title,  Wisbech to Cley-next-the-Sea and Wells-next-the-Sea, via Hunstanton, pronounced (lazily) by some as Hunston, or more affectionately by at least one local, as Sunny Hunny.

It was certainly a sunny start from Wisbech, with a somewhat cooler reception at West Lynn, where the small foot passenger ferry takes you across to King’s Lynn. It is here that I met my match. I now gracefully stand down from my podium but certainly won’t offer a helping hand up to the new Mr Grump UK.  On seeing the steep, slippery looking steps and no reference to bicycles on the tariff board,  I innocently asked Mr Ferryman if it was ok for me to take a heavily laden bicycle aboard.  “If you can get it on, you can take it. I’m not helping lift that. If I damage my back,  that’s me finished. No job.”  I reassured him that I didn’t need his help. The steps were neither as steep nor as slippery as I’d feared from the top of the ramp so Fondo & I helped each other aboard and settled down for the short passage. “Not there. Lean it on that post.”  Not sure who was most offended at the “it” reference.  Fondo or me?  “Call that heavily laden? That’s not heavy.”  By now, the novelty of the ferry ride had worn off.  I asked him how he could possibly know the combined weight of this bicycle and luggage,  having not laid a finger of assistance upon Fondo’s frame. No more words were exchanged on this thankfully short crossing.

The ride up this side of The Wash was quite hard going, with a much cooler headwind (yes, the wind had swung round 180° overnight, as had my nasal pointer) than usual. The odd sunny spell was quite confusing. Still cycling clockwise around GB, keeping the sea on my left, East Anglia on my right, I’d grown accustomed to having the sun on my face and knees in the middle of the day. But now, it was on my back, my shadow in front of me. It’s easy to forget that Norfolk has a stretch of West facing as well as the more obvious North and East facing coastline. This Westerly bearing can easily be demonstrated at today’s first port of call, Sunny Hunny, where you can sit on the beach and watch the sun setting over the sea. After the heart and knee warming welcome at Hunstanton Lifeboat Station, with its amazing Hovercraft, jolly good people and great café right next to the RNLI Hangar and boathouse, I was very tempted to wait here for the sunset. Apparently, according to local lore, King John’s treasures are still in the wash, not far from here. He must have selected the heavily soiled programme.  Thanks Robin (LOM), Andy and Paul. I’d have loved to have witnessed the ‘flight’ of the Hovercraft on a rescue mission across the sandy, muddy, watery Wash but .. a) I have another Station to tick off this afternoon,   b) nobody seems to be in need of rescuing,  c) it’s probably not good to be seen waiting and hoping for a life threatening emergency.

By the time I’d reached the next stop at North-facing-Wells-next-the-Sea All Weather Lifeboat Station, Alan Frary (Cox’n/mech, distinguished Lifeboatman, great local character and all round Good Man) had said goodbye to his visiting school party and had timed the fresh brew of tea to perfection. Thanks Alan, for the laughs, anecdotes and useful contacts. At low tide, yours must be the longest distance, tractor towed ALB launching in the country. Thankfully, it’s a mighty big, not too slow tractor, probably as fast as the Mersey Lifeboat in a heavy swell, into wind. Good luck with the plans for a new Lifeboat Station, with a new Shannon and it’s hi-tec launch & recovery system, maybe still a couple of years down the line. Hopefully, next time I call, I won’t need to drag a skinny tyred, over loaded Fondo over a couple of hundred yards of soft sand and shingle to and from the old boathouse. Time to cover a few more miles before finding somewhere for the night.

Day 73 Sunday 22 May:  The best laid plans … early start? Up at 7.00, shower, clean mamil gear on (plus baggy T shirt for modesty’s sake. Don’t want to put others off their breakfast). Bags packed, route & schedule for the day checked. Downstairs to the ominously quiet breakfast room. No sign of life in the kitchen. No watch on wrist,  no clock on wall. Back up to room to check time on phone. 8.02am. Check Information for Guests. Should have checked earlier. Breakfast served, Mon – Sat 08.00 – 9.30; Sundays,  9.00 – 10.30.
Oh well … Do without? Not really an option. Can’t leave, haven’t paid for the room yet. Also very hungry,  Won’t get far on a low tank.  Double check route & plans for the day. Send two text msgs. Take bags down, wait at table. Not for too long.  Cheery whistling from the kitchen. All ok,  breakfast choice ordered, cooked & eaten in 27 mins flat. The theme for the day (flat).
I can cycle 84 miles and arrive on schedule. Today I cycled 450 yards and arrived 26 mins late. Thank you so much Richard and the rest of the Skegness crew for your patience and warm welcome. Had you really only just arrived, or were you being tactful?
A great turn out.  This is a record reception for an A/ILB Station. Many thanks to Richard (2nd Cox’n), Will and Matt (ILB Helms), Alan and Michelle (Trainee crew), Chas (tractor driver), Pippa & Max (future crew). What a great place for a Lifeboat Station.  Not only is it will placed for quick launching of a Mersey ALB or the D class ILB via a huge sandy beach, it is also at the busy end of the promenade at one of the country’s most popular seaside resorts, where the wandering crowds are already gathering, reaching into their pockets for pennies for the novelty collection boxes. There’s something special about releasing a coin in a vertical slot and watching it spiral round & round & down into a black hole. A much simpler way of fundraising. What AM I doing here?
The flatlands of Lincs & Cambs beckon. Who was it that decided to build roads the way they have in these two Fenland counties? i.e., straight ahead for one mile,  sharp right-angle turn to the left,  straight on for half a mile, sharp right angle turn to the right,  straight on …. etc.. Brilliant!
Don’t get me wrong,  this is not sarcasm. With today’s cycling conditions, I’ve worked out why it’s done this way. With no hills to relieve the monotony of the flatpan landscape, a frequent change in compass bearing not only adds interest, it also gives a regular break from the relentless headwind. Genius! (Fenland road builders,  not me). Never mind the extra few miles. I’m adding a few more today anyway, by diverting via Wisbech for an overnight visit to Claire’s East Anglian family. Thanks for everything Anne, Keith and Julia. Great to catch up. I certainly wasn’t expecting the Tour of the Town in Bluebell,  a very nippy open top vintage Austin 7!

Day 72, part 2  Sat 21 May:  From Grimsby, just a short dash to Cleethorpes, the first of three Lincolnshire resorts. Thanks Kelly, ILB Crew for turning out to meet me. As the frequency of seaside resorts per mile of coastline continues to increase, so too does the number of ILB Stations. The busy workhorse of the RNLI fleet, the D class Inshore Rescue Boat might not be the most glamorous compared to some of it’s bigger, faster sister boats, but this is the ideal quick response boat, needed so often for short range dashes along the shore line, into tricky little coves and up river estuaries.
We humans have evolved into a pretty advanced species, developing sophisticated tools and machines (the greatest of them all is, of course the bicycle, but that’s besides the point). We can build vast bridges and tunnel beneath the sea.  We have reached the moon and beyond. We have developed technology that allows us to send and share videos of a kitten being sweet with a ball of string to a thousand social media friends in an instant.
So why is it that, when enjoying any part of our many thousands of miles of amazing coast line, we can be so daft? It’s a long time since we were amphibians and I don’t see us evolving into gravity defying, webfooted, giant headed pond skaters any time soon. Very few of us have the climbing agility of a mountain goat combined with the swimming and diving ability of a dolphin. So the next time one of us drifts out to sea on a slowly deflating tractor inner tube, or becomes stranded, cut off by the tide beneath a cliff face or on a sand bank, let’s hear it for the likes of Kelly and crew mates at Cleethorpes, Mablethorpe or whichever Inshore Lifeboat Straiton with a D-Class ILB is nearest. No matter how foolish or unlucky we might be, these are the crews who will, at the bleep of an RNLI pager, drop whatever they’re doing, dash down to their Lifeboat and try to rescue us.

Meanwhile, my nose, soon to be registered with the Meteorological Office as an official weather vane, is pointing South. Yes, that’s where the wind is coming from today. With an 89% accuracy record whilst cycling around the West, North and now most of the East Coast of mainland Britain, my nose is more accurate than the BBC Weather Forecast.

Straight to my Skegness guest house for B&B, just 400 yards from the Lifeboat Station, perfect for the planned early morning visit tomorrow.

Day 72 Sat 21 May: Apologies for the three day radio silence. Normal service could not be resumed. Having grown used to free wifi, I have recently been restricted to wifi free zones.

The time has come to say goodbye to Yorkshire.  So, is this God’s Own Country? Do the Hills of the North rejoice? And did those feet, in ancient times …? Who knows? Answers please, on a postcard. Or, wifi permitting, click the comment button and show yourselves at your opinionated best. All I know is that I love the bits of Yorkshire I’ve seen and the people I’ve met. I will be back. But hang on a minute.  Before we abandon this County, let me rabbit on about the bit I’ve left ’till last. The best bit.

The Humber Lifeboat, at Spurn Point, is strategically placed at the mouth of the Humber. But this is no ordinary coastal location. It is neither an island (having a long sandy causeway, traversable on foot most of the time) nor is it permanently attached to the mainland (being occasionally cut off by a tidal surge, the most dramatic in recent years being the 2013 tidal surges which washed away the road link). For those of you not familiar with the geography of this remote SE corner of Yorkshire, take a look on Google Earth. Or, take a very, very long walk along the soft, sandy ‘breach’. But don’t even think about trying to cycle across.

Yesterday, at the point where the last visible patch of tarmac disappears under soft sand, I leaned Fondo against a well placed post at the edge of a sand dune and sat down in the warm sun. Just enough time to eat my Co-op meal deal cheese & pickle sandwich before the RNLI Land Rover arrived to pick me up. Not only was Matthew (one of the regular Humber crew) able to negotiate the more than challenging soft sand, maintaining 4 wheel drive traction at all times, with deep ruts and steep dunes to climb over. He was also able to maintain a fascinating introduction to the history, natural and man made, of Spurn Point. Did you know there are vicious man eating caterpillars here? That there was once a railway line all the way to the end, used to transport the wartime munitions off-loaded here? I was shown evidence of both. Too late to turn back.

This is a full time, 24/7, permanently manned Allweather Lifeboat Station. The usual requirement of volunteer crew members to be living / working within 5 minutes of the LB Station is not possible here. In recent years, houses were built for each of the essential full crew. They had to live here permanently, with family. That worked well for a while, with everyone able to drive their own cars all the way along. But the isolation and inherent problems (medical, social, particularly for the children at school) were beginning to take their toll. The families had moved out. The final straw was the 2013 breach.

The current system now operates two separate full time crews.  Six days on,  six days off. My visit coincided with ‘blue watch’, who had invited me to eat with them and stay overnight. The full guided tour of this unique Station was fascinating. Everything planned and organised, almost militarily but not as you might imagine.  Not in the way an RAF aircrew would be fully prepared in flying boots & jackets during the Battle of Britain, reclining in deck chairs waiting for a ‘ring the bell and run like Hell’ scramble to their Spitfires and Hurricanes. Yes, the crews’ suits & boots were strategically placed in readiness for the next shout. But they were also the ones responsible for keeping the place running. Doing the washing, cleaning, cooking, maintaining equipment, planning exercises, looking after visiting fundraisers  …
A calm, organised atmosphere but no time to lay back in a deckchair snoozing under a newspaper, whilst separate groundcrew tended to the pilots’ every need. A daft analogy, I know. Hardly the same life expectancy as a young WW2 pilot.  But there was something about this crews’ camaraderie. They had been called out on a couple of shouts recently,  the most recent being in the early hours of the morning, the day I arrived. A yacht in difficulty, rope tangled prop, at the mercy of the tidal currents and sand banks.

Many thanks to Ben, (2nd Cox’n, the man in charge this week, also capable of producing a great chicken pasta dish for 9 hungry people), Ed (Mechanic, with more big boys toys to look after than the average full time LB mech), Liam (Ast Mech), Col (Navigator), Matthew (crew and great guide). Also, the relief ILB crew temporarily based here to cover a nearby flanking Station, off-service briefly: Steffan from Tower (London), Kim from Gt Yarmouth and Glenn from Cleethorpes. A huge thank you to you all. I shall never forget my time at Spurn Point, the icing on the cake being the opportunity to be part of a joint ALB/ILB exercise and maintenance run this morning, across the huge Humber estuary and into Grimsby Fish Dock. Very conveniently timed.  The two units were carefully offloaded, ready for their onward passage to their next destination,  Cleethorpes ILB Station.

Alas, I had to miss out the Humber Bridge crossing. Never mind, using such a big bridge to such advantage would have been too easy. Battling through the treacherous currents of a fast ebbing tide at the helm of a powerful Severn Class Lifeboat was a much more appropriate experience (Exaggerate? Me? Not in a trillion years). The Humber Bridge experience can wait until next year, when Hull is the City of Culture. I’m hoping my good friend & cycling buddy Keith will be my guide on a ceremonial Yorkshire ride.

And so, from Grimsby to Cleethorpes, Mablethorpe and Skegness. The roads of Lincolnshire. … Part 2 Tbc. ..

Day 71 Friday 20 May: All batteries recharged and tank replenished. Even Fondo enjoyed the deluxe accommodation, not always offered to bicycles! Thanks Karen for the Full Yorkshire hospitality.  There’s still something very satisfying about being presented with a full cooked breakfast when you can see straight away that it’s a right good’un.

With my head turned to the left as I studied the part original, part spoiled Art Deco building, I cycled straight past Bridlington Allweather Lifeboat Station across the road to my right. What I thought was the Boathouse ahead, on the promenade next to a slipway, flying the RNLI flag, was not. It was the Lifeguard Station,  also part of the same Institution, staffed by volunteers. Another interesting point to revisit later.  Meanwhile, back to the ALB Station on the wrong side of the road. Not uncommon on an open sea front but certainly not routine when it comes to over 14 tons of Mersey Lifeboat plus launch carriage and very big, slow, heavy tractor. Memories of Llandudno way back on Day 17. Thanks to Chris (FT Mech) who, having seen me pedal straight past, had set off in pursuit. Thanks also to your silent, motionless, fully kitted-out Lifeboat girl for joining us for the mandatory photograph. I can see that she’s a real asset to the station on fine days with the doors open and good company for a lone mechanic on those quieter winter days. The eventual insertion of the appropriate photograph at this point is a must.

Along the flatter coastal approach to Withernsea Inshore Lifeboat Station. At this point, the usual casual first-name introduction won’t do. One young crew member is deserving of a full introduction. Thank you Gregory Garcia-Jones. You must meet my grandson, Alejandro McAllister-Pavia one day. You share the same great smile. Thanks also to John (DLA) for turning out on your day off. Good luck with the essential recruiting of a few more crew like Greg.

And so to the big one.  Humber Lifeboat at Spurn Point.

Day 70  Thurs 19 May:  Fond farewells to Whitby and the grand crew after a good night’s sleep in an impressive modern boathouse. Holding pride of place in the centre of the town on the old fish quay, it is certainly no eyesore. On the contrary. With it’s historic and continuing importance, Whitby Lifeboat Station is held dear to the heart of the community. Many thanks for so much help from so many crew members, including Mike (cox’n)and Keith (LOM) for trusting me with the care and use of your immaculate Lifeboat Station, Jonathan/’Bod’ for lending me your high pressure pump, Dave for donating a mini hp pump to the cause and Mark (relief duty mech from Humber) for the telephone introduction to your own Station at the far end of this huge county, sowing the seed for what might just turn out to be a most memorable visit tomorrow …

The next credits go to the fine, distinguished gents who met me at Scarborough. John (retired crew), Colin (chairman) and Mark (crew, proprietor of the excellent cafe opposite the temporary LBStn. Thanks for the great welcome, full tour and generous lunch treat. Good luck with the new Station and boat due later this year. Interesting to hear how Billy Butlin historically invested much of his wealth in the Scarborough community, including the local Lifeboat.  Good to see the project well under way.

On to Filey, the next resort along this fine and busy Yorkshire Coast, where the carriage-launched ALB will, one day in the not too distant future,  be retired and replaced with a smaller, quicker, more appropriate B Class Atlantic 85. Thanks Ian (Ast Mech) and Barry (Cox’n). Great to meet you. Another sad farewell to a fine old Mersey. Good luck with the new boat when it arrives.

One more Station to visit before moving on to the eventual destination of the day at Bridlington. The neighbouring ILB Station at Flamborough.  A front brake-warming drop down to the South side of this well known peninsula,  where the more remote boat house is sheltered by sandy cliffs above a steep slipway. Thank you Les (DLA/Cox’n ret.) Harry (Station Sec.) for meeting me.  Although a relatively quiet outpost, the lure of the dramatic and dangerous Flamborough Head still demands occasional assistance from this Inshore lifeboat. Thier biggest challenge is finding enough volunteer crew members in a relatively remote location.

And so, as the temperature drops, the light fades and the rain returns, on to Bridlington. Not too far. Just as well. A hollow rumbling and fading power output. Fuel gauge approaching the red zone.

Day 69 Weds 18 May:  There is no such thing as a typical pair of cyclists’ legs. There are two very obvious types in the world of professional cycle racing. The first are the massive sprinter’s thighs of Chris Hoy. The second being the long, thin, high cadence legs of the long distance, double Tour de France winner Chris Froom. Very different. I am neither a professional, nor called Chris. That must explain why I have type 3 legs. Just short and hairy. But today I must report that I am very proud of my own type 3 legs. This, being my first day back amongst real hills since Sutherland and Ross&Cromarty’s Berriedale, was going to be tough.

One more ILB Station to visit at Redcar before the day’s climbing. Plenty of encouraging banter,  coffee and biscuits from another great gang. The crew room had more of a club house feel, with so many dropping in. Their boat house is across the road from the open promenade, at a traffic light controlled T junction. They have access to a switch to override the control box and set all lights to red whilst they launch the boat. The trouble is,  everyone is so interested in watching the big blue tractor push the boat out, across the road and prom, down the slipway, across the beach and into the surf, that they sometimes ‘forget’ to turn the traffic lights back on for a while. What power!  Many thanks to Dave,  Mike, Ben, Cameron, Bob, Pete and anyone else I met. What a great atmosphere. Time to start climbing.

At Saltburn (now a.k.a. Legburn) the sudden drop to sea level then straight back up was a good warm-up. Having passed the welcoming sign to the entrance of The North York Moors,  the next challenge was Staithes. 25% descent and 25% incline “to get back up top”. So this is what it’s like in what I’m reliably informed (by Yorkshire folk) is God’s Own Country. I’m beginning to believe. Before even thinking about getting out of here, there’s time to just stop and stare at the dramatic setting here in Staithes. A deep gorge with houses both sides. On the steepest part of the descent, all you see is clay tiled roof tops. Two ways in and back out, one on each side of the river, only connected by a narrow foot bridge. A cosy harbour, facing the regular perils of the open north sea, with the old Lifeboat station strategically placed. A distinguished and troubled history, including it’s own fair share of tragedy and human loss. My departure was briefly held up by the arrival of a very inquisitive party of primary school children. Thank you Drew, ILB Mechanic, for signing the chart before turning your attention to the visiting party and introducing me to them. Most of them understood what I was doing but not all understood why. The short answer clearly wasn’t enough. The connection between an old bloke on a long bicycle journey and a very fast, bright orange motor boat is not easy to grasp. That didn’t stop them giving me a great send off. Thankfully, they could only watch me as far as the bridge crossing before I disappeared through a gap in the houses at the foot of the sharp climb. Alas there was another, smaller audience to witness my grinding of the pedals as I tried to disguise the heavy breathing and general agony with a broad smile. Their Jack Russell, growling and straining at the leash, clearly fancied a nibble at my right ankle. The pain of the climb ebbed and the yapping faded as I crested the brow. The 25% incline also eased, to a relatively flat 10% gradient for the rest of the climb. I did it, cobbles, bags and all. A final smattering of applause from a couple of locals leaning on their garden gate, enjoying the free entertainment, was reward enough as smugness set in.

There was something missing on the coast road to Whitby. Flat bits. I’m not sure how many calories I was burning. Garmin will tell me, but I won’t really listen. It considers elevation gain in it’s calculations but makes no allowance for load carrying. All I know is that I’d eaten all my Twixes and MarsBars. The fig rolls had long gone. By the time I reached Whitby,  my fading energy almost took the edge off the excitement of getting here. But not quite. It did not disappoint. Instantly recognisable, even though I’d never been here before. A quick gawp at the setting, with the gothic abbey ruins looming above the town and harbour. Much bigger than I expected. A careful descent, over the bridge and on to the Lifeboat Station. This has to be a serious contender for the most immaculately kept boat house competition. A full report will follow. Is that the time? Back soon.

Day 68  Tues 17 May. The shortest distance between two points is in a straight line. The shortest distance between two Lifeboat Stations is between Cullercoats and Tynemouth, today’s first and second ports of call.  2.6 miles by bicycle. Two very different stations. For those of you still not sure about the difference between an Inshore Lifeboat Station (ILB) and an All Weather (offshore) Lifeboat Station (ALB), today brings an ideal opportunity to illustrate:

The first, an ILBStn at Cullercoats has a very handsome old gabled red brick building with solid wooden folding boathouse doors, overlooking a clean sandy cove. It’s Inshore lifeboat is launched by a high tech powerful tractor unit which pushes it down the slipway, over the sand and into the sea. Typical calls come from stranded souls around sand banks, young people literally out of their depth, in difficulty around piers and breakwaters, small boats with mechanical problems etc. One of it’s less typical recent jobs was the recovery of two vehicles: a large van caught out by an incoming tide and a Range Rover used by a member of the public in a failed attempt to rescue the van. The Lifeboat itself wasn’t needed. The crew used the semi submersible launch tractor. Thanks Curtis, ILB Crew, for meeting me early this morning before dashing off to work. A reminder that almost all ILB crew members are unpaid volunteers, most of whom have other jobs.

In contrast, the second port of call at Tynemouth is an All Weather Lifeboat Station based at the fish quay in the mouth of the Tyne in a 1990s building. They operate a large, Severn Class ALB, kept afloat at its sheltered birth. They also have a D class Inshore Rescue Boat, partly for up-river work. Typical shouts in recent months include the towing in of a trawler or yacht with loss of power and the dramatic rescue of the cross Tyne ferry adrift in a gale. Many thanks to full time Cox’n Michael for the advice on various options for crossing the Tyne, which include cycling into Newcastle city and crossing the Tyne Bridge, taking the ferry, or using the pedestrian tunnel. Alternatively, the offer to take part in a short exercise involving the rapid transfer of a stranded cyclist was accepted without hesitation. Within a very few minutes I was standing on a South Shields slipway waving goodbye. Thanks Michael, for making my day!

Following the coastal cycle route, keeping the sea on my left, Sunderland was soon reached. A smart new ILB Station in the marina, all securely locked up with not an RNLI member in sight. I had made contact and been warned that no current crew members were available. All were away or at work. But no worries. I had also been informed that one crew member worked at the Marine Activities Centre, right next door. Sure enough Ian, ILB Crewman was the first person I saw in the building. Thanks Ian, for allowing me to distract you from work and for your valued autograph upon the hallowed chart. This is another tidal estuary station close to a big bridge, this one spanning the Wear. More very tragic tales, with accounts of traumatic recoveries almost as frequent as successful interventions or rescues.

A final 27 mile stretch to Hartlepool, including the first long (but gradual) climb for some time. The terrain was beginning to feel less flat. Hartlepool ALB Station is quite well hidden in a more industrial setting. Having spotted a Mersey Class lifeboat at berth in the marina, alongside expensive yachts, I spent a while looking for the boathouse nearby. Then I in remebered, the Hartlepool Lifeboat is a much taller Trent. After 3 contradicting pointers from friendly folk, the Coastguard then sent me back in the right direction, towards some huge cranes and down a rough track. Many thanks to Gary(FT Cox/Mech), for the welcome offer of a very comfortable base for the night, including the breakfast bacon roll and to Mark (crew) for all the help establishing the next wave of contacts and the lengthy discussions ranging from education battle scars to digital aerial photography.

It’s becoming quite clear that, for many, if not all Lifeboat people, being part of their “other” family, i.e. the crew, is as important to each of them as they are to the fishing and boating community they serve.

Day 67  Monday 16 May: A new record. Five Lifeboat Stations in one day. Seahouses, Craster, Amble, Newbiggin, Blyth.

For the first time since Oban on the west coast of Scotland, today I woke up in familiar surroundings.  Not the actual bedroom,  but thanks anyway to Paul & staff at The Sunningdale in Bamburgh for a very comfortable night and exactly the breakfast I needed. A great view of Bamburgh Castle from my window, first bathed in red setting sunlight, then floodlit, then silhouetted in front of this morning’s sunrise.

Just a sort dash along the sand dune lined coast road to Seahouses. Just as I remembered. Many fish&chip shops and a fascinating old port. Thanks to John (FT Mech/ Cox’n), LeeAnne (A/ILB crew and fundraising chair), Richard (crew & ILB Helm) and Rachael (crew) for the great welcome. Having called in at the RNLI Museum in Bamburgh yesterday, where Grace Darling’s famous heroic feat is featured, including the actual boat she used, it was quite moving to see the current Seahouses Mersey Class Lifeboat bearing her name. But not for much longer. One of several soon to be replaced by a new Shannon Class. I could sense the mixed feelings of the crew. Their fondness for the long serving Mersey and the excitement of taking delivery of the state of the art, faster, more manoeuvrable boat. They also have (and make frequent use of) a trusty D Class Inshore boat on a trailer with a Land Rover. Many of their shouts are causeway related at nearby Lindisfarne. Despite the clear warning signs, visitors still set off across the Holy Island causeway on a rising tide. Other regular calls for assistance come from divers in trouble around the even nearer Farne Islands.

On to Craster, where I met John (DLA) at one of the smallest, quietest Stations. Although very quiet now, this was once one of the many busy little herring ports. Now popular as a destination for those with a fondness for seafood, with the old smoke house and not so old restaurant still doing well.

Another short (14 mile) ride along the gently undulating coast road to Amble, via the fine old Warkworth Castle and along the bank of the River Coquette. Just beyond the well stocked Marina, the Amble A&ILB Station is tucked into the very neat and tastefully modernised harbour. Thanks to another John (full time Lifeboat mechanic) for allowing me to use your magnificent, huge crew room as my lunch stop and for a good hour of your time discussing the history and future of Lifeboats here. Here, another crew awaits the not too distant Shannon replacement. Anyone fancy a share in a soon to be retired Mersey All Weather Lifeboat?

This part of the busy Northumberland coast has a string of equidistant Lifeboats.  Another 14 miles to Newbiggin ILB Station. A high tech modern Atlantic 85, tucked into the oldest surviving original Lifeboat house (1851) still in use. To add to the curious setting, the boat house is surrounded by about a dozen vintage tractors, used by local boat owners to launch their boats. Many thanks to Stan, a real local character full of fascinating tales, now retired from the role of Lifeboat Operations Manager but still very much involved as the Chairman and a prolific maker of fine models of boats, historic and current. Thanks Stan, for so much of your time and Mark (ILB crew), for you perfect timing. There’s something quite gratifying about supping hot tea whilst staring out to sea from a strategically placed Lifeboat Station window. This time,  I could sea the next destination, just 3.5 miles across the bay on the far side of the Blyth estuary. But not so near by road.

On to Blyth. A very different setting, in a more industrial port. Another big, modern Station, currently housing two D Class Inshore boats and an Atlantic B Class on a very clever AquaDock launching facility. An ALB Station until recently but the RNLI took away the under-used Tent Class, now in use in the reserve fleet. Many thanks to another John (LOM) for your determination to help me make contact with one of the more illusive ILB Stations soon to be visited.  But not today. Five is plenty.