Day 66  Sunday 15 May:  Today’s first port of call is my last visit to a Scottish Lifeboat Station. The route to Eyemouth could have been a fast but boring dash down the A1. Alternatively, I could follow National Cycle Route 1 along the coast. No contest. I took NCR1. Good choice, mostly. Apart from an unnecessary there & back again 3 mile detour  to a splendid lighthouse.

Thanks Andrew (cox’n), Adam(2nd Cox’n) and Martin(2nd mech) at Eyemouth ALB Station for turning out on a Sunday. Great to meet you and hear some of the recent news. Another well established LBStn with 140 years distinguished service. Great to hear about the station choir. Can’t wait to hear the CD! Alas, a CD player was not an optional extra when drawing up Fondo’s spec.

And so, a few miles down the A1, an unceremonial goodbye to Scotland. More on this later. And more on the first English town and Lifeboat Station at Berwick upon Tweed to follow.

From Berwick upon Tweed, the NCR1 route was rejoined. But the loose gravel, compacted dry but bumpy mud & grass coast path was slowing progress to not much above walking pace. Was I still on the designated National Cycle Route? According to the regular blue signs with a white bicycle and red number 1, yes. According to Garmin, probably. (“riding on unsurfaced track”). According to Fondo’s skinny tyres and heavy cargo, no. Very scenic, just about rideable but progress was barely measurable. So, back to the nearest coast road. The A1. But not for too long. The familiar minor roads were a delight on approach to Bamburgh, where I rest my weary limbs and brain tonight, with a fine view of the huge Castle.

Day 65  Saturday 14 May: As you may know by now,  I’ve stopped talking about the weather. So there’ll be no mention of the fact that my anticipated respite, enjoying the sunny southern climes of an apparently bright, balmy Bristol became a wet week in the west country. Meanwhile, in my absence, Scotland basked. Record highs. 26°C on the Isle of Sky and pretty toasty in Edinburgh. Me, Bitter?  Yes please, another pint of Belhaven Best in its home town of Dunbar.  That’s where I am now,  after a glorious day of cycling back out of the Firth of Forth along the South shore, from Queensferry,  via North Berwick. Sunshine, light breeze and pretty flat. Legs refreshed after almost a week away from Fondo. No complaints, good to be back in Scotland for the last day and a half before crossing the border at the eastern end.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.  I haven’t finished with Scotland yet.  Edinburgh has had barely a mention. What a stunning city. My first visit. A huge thank you to Ken, a good old friend of brother Neil, now a good new friend of mine. So much of what I was seeing in his home city would have meant so much less without his great local knowledge along with his ability to relate a fascinating tale of many an infamous Edinburgh character. All greatly enhanced by a few wee dram chasers. Far too much to tell. I am definitely returning soon after this crazy whirlwind tour of 237 Lifeboat Stations. Not alone. This has to be shared with my nearest and dearest. No, not Fondo.  I really was thinking of Claire. I don’t think the aforementioned has quite recovered from being locked in a dark cupboard under a gigantic rail bridge for a whole week. No, not Claire. I mean ….. Oh,  never mind.

A few miles after leaving Queensferry,  I was joined by Olivier, a keen cyclist from Avignon, France. Now a resident of Edinburgh, he knows the routes through the City very well. I was very happy to accept his kind offer to lead the way through, thus allowing me another opportunity to enjoy the fine sights without stop-start route-finding. Thanks for going the extra miles Olivier,  I really enjoyed your company!

Today’s first stop was North Berwick. Third thanks of the day go to Mark, the S.Luca Icecream Man, for pointing out that the Lifeboat Station I was searching for was the big blue building right behind me and for the complementary and very welcome icecream. The best vanilla 99 cornet I’ve had since 1976. And I love the six-wheel Mini Moke van. The fourth thank you goes to the lovely Doreen Dick, RNLI Shop Volunteer, for being there and representing the Lifeboat crew on this busy Saturday.  My chart would be incomplete without your treasured autograph. You are a local hero.

On to Dunbar and its A&ILB Station. Two hundred and eight years of saving lives at sea. “..In 1807, a succession of wrecks along this coast so aroused local feeling that a boat was provided with the specific purpose of saving lives. … Thus it was that,  in 1808,  six years before the establishment of the Royal National Lifeboat Institute,  Dunbar was one of the very first towns to embrace the dangerous task of saving lives of those in peril on the sea. ”   Also worthy of comment, at the foot of a list of dedications from the President of the RNLI in the same 2008 RNLI publication:   ” And to the people of Dunbar and East Lothian whose unparalleled support of the Lifeboat has continued undiminished during these 200 years,  there is not a more generous community in this country” 

The Dunbar generosity continues.  Thanks for everything Gipper (FT Mech), Ron,  Gordon and Davie.

Day 64  Sat 7 May: Decision made. Flight booked. I’m heading home for a few days. After 42 days of cycling around the long coastline of Scotland it is time for a break. The decision was made during those recent days of struggling into the SW headwind, somewhere between Peterhead, Aberdeen, Stonehaven, Montrose, Arbroath and Broughty Ferry. The opportunity to  take advantage of a cheap EasyJet flight from Edinburgh to Bristol was now fast approaching. Of course, the moment I clicked the online PAY NOW button coincided precisely with the easing and turning of the wind and a pleasant rise in the temperature.

A beautiful, calm morning on the Firth of Forth as I set off on the climb out of Kinghorn, heading up-stream along the north shore. The haziness only added to the atmosphere as I crested each brow, expecting my first glimpse of one of the world’s greatest engineering achievements. That famous outline of what is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, once the longest cantilever structure in the world. The Forth Bridge. An iconic image firmly imprinted on my mind from encyclopedia, film and television images but not seen before in the flesh. Or to be more precise, in the deep red oxide, never finished paintwork. Just one tantalising glimpse before dropping down through Inverkeithing towards North Queensferry. Crossing such a mega structure as the 1964 Forth Road Bridge on a bicycle would have been a thrilling enough event. But to be pedalling south-bound along the east-side cycle path, with THE Forth Bridge, the 1890 railway bridge, suddenly in full view just a few hundred yards to my left was just awesome. To build a 1/100th scale model out of Meccano would be a big enough achievement for most budding engineers. Looking now at the real thing poses the question. How did they do that? A fascinating procedure of controlling mass with balance. And by employing over 4,550 workers in its 57,000 ton steel construction. And at great human cost. “Of the 73 recorded deaths, 38 were as a result of falling, 9 of being crushed, 9 drowned, 8 struck by a falling object, 3 died in a fire in a bothy, 1 of caisson disease and the cause of five deaths is unknown.” (Thanks Wiki). The 1964 road bridge claimed 7 lives in its construction. It is now struggling to keep up with the modern flow of heavy traffic and will soon be semi-retired, carrying only public transport, cyclists and pedestrians. On completion of the third Queensferry Crossing later this year, all heavy goods and other traffic will be diverted to this new road bridge, which sadly claimed its first victim very recently.

The setting for the Queensferry Inshore Lifeboat Station is pretty dramatic. The modern boathouse, extended to house the current Atlantic B class, sits at the top of the South Queensferry slipway/pier in the shadow of the magnificent 1890 Forth Bridge. Quite an appropriate, grand setting for Fondo’s temporary home at this, our 100th Lifeboat Station visited since setting of from Penlee Lifeboat Station in far off Cornwall, 63 cycling days ago. Many thanks to Mike (ILB Helmsman) for the welcome and for kindly agreeing to look after Fondo while I take a short break in the sunny, warm south. Back soon.

 

Day 63  Friday 6 May: Many thanks to Scott(Mech) at Broughty Ferry for the welcome, for looking after Fondo overnight and for being incredibly helpful. Your ability to make instant contact with the right person at the right time is most impressive. Thanks also for the Broughty Ferry Lifeboat book. In more than one sense, this one is heavier going than most. Looking into the history of this very busy lifeboat station, yet again we find tragedy.   “On 8th December 1959 the lifeboat Mona, first stationed at Broughty Ferry in 1935, was launched to the help of the North Carr light-vessel that had been reported broken adrift.  Weather conditions were exceptionally severe with a strong south-easterly gale blowing across the entrance to the River Tay.  Certain navigational buoys had been driven by the atrocious weather from their positions.  In the early hours of the morning the lifeboat unfortunately capsized and her crew of eight were drowned…”

The more I look into the history of individual lifeboat stations, the more I realise that tragedy on such a scale was not that unusual. Lifeboats were not all self righting. They did not have the benefit of a big engine (or two) to speed them to and from a stricken vessel. One rescue could (and often did) take well over a day. They did not have the benefit of global positioning via satellite. The crews’ equipment did not offer the same degree of protection. Does this mean that a modern day rescue mission is safer and easier? Like an irritating BBC political correspondent, my answer is yes, and no. It is a very different game. In terms of improved kit and boats being more stable and inherently self righting, yes, it has to be safer. In terms of the number and types of ‘shouts’, the difficulties associated with an increasing population of casual, unskilled water-borne leisure & pleasure seekers plus a propensity for too many intelligent beings to use high bridges or clifftops to seek permanent escape from the mental stress or strain of twenty-first century living, then no, it cannot be easier. Many of these calls for assistance are too late for rescue and become a gruesome case of search and recovery. Here at Broughty Ferry on the north bank of the Tay, close to one of the country’s biggest, longest bridges, is the busiest Lifeboat Station in Scotland. When asked how busy they’d been this year Scott replied ” just the two shouts yesterday”.*

But one particular challenge for lifeboat crews past, present and future remains. The power and unpredictability of the stormy seas around our very long, ragged coastline.

Meanwhile, back on the road towards Dundee, over the aforementioned very long Tay Bridge (the toughest bit being the lugging of a heavily laden Fondo up a few short flights of steps onto the shared pedestrian cycle path along the centre of the dual carriageway, the lift being out of order), via St Andrews (just a bit bigger and much more famous than my home district of St Andrews, which according to Bristol City Council doesn’t exist anyway) and on to Anstruther. Thanks Alec (mech) for popping down to meet me, signing the chart and pointing me in the direction of Scotland’s best known fish& chip cafe before dashing off. Thanks also to Barry (the ILB Helm and various ALB crew roles, who caught me sitting on the warm, sunny steps of the Lifeboat Station, eating the award winning fish & chips) for the tour of the boat house and the very kind memento in celebration of the Anstruther Lifeboat Station’s recent 150th anniversary.

On to the final destination of the day at Kinghorn, where the ILB Station is tucked safely in the corner of a very picturesque, small bay. Here I met Alan (LOM) hoisting a big new RNLI flag. He was replacing the ragged, winter-worn one in time for tomorrow’s big fund raising event. It wasn’t for me. Thanks also for the very kind offer to spend the night in the crew room above the boathouse. Nothing personal Alan, I was delighted, but the second offer, a comfortable bed and hot power shower at John & Pam’s house just above & behind the LB Station had the edge. I am growing very fond of the genuine, kind people involved with this wonderful Institution.

*Since writing the above, I have heard that Broughty Ferry has launched both their Inshore and All-weather Lifeboats seven times in reponse to Tay Bridge area call-outs in the last six days.

Day 62  Thurs 5 May :  Today, on reaching Arbroath, I met Ron Churchill, the oldest serving full time Lifeboat Cox’n/Mechanic. He is responsible for keeping one of the thirty remaining Mersey Class Lifeboats in peak condition. After 24 years on service, the boat still looks great. After a few more years than that, Ron’s not looking too bad himself, despite being even older than me. Just 12 days my senior.

Sadly in 1952, the year of birth we share, Arbroath Lifeboat suffered it’s worst loss of life in a single incident. Six of the crew of seven lost their lives after the Lifeboat capsized, having been launched in stormy seas in response to reported distress flares. In over 200 years of service, Arbroath lifeboat crews have received many awards for galantry, including medals for rescuing crew from a stricken vessel in 1940 whilst still under attack from a German aircraft.

With those sobering thoughts still in my head, there’ll be no more cursing and muttering about the continuing battle into the wind. On to Broughty Ferry, today’s next port of call. More on this station after my return to pick up Fondo from the beautifully restored and upgraded boat house in the morning.

Day 61  Weds 4 April: In reply to the question from my good friend, ex colleague and cycling buddy Dave, the answer is no. I will not upload my ride data onto Strava for you boy racers to laugh at. Today, I hit my all time lowest ever recorded average speed. The details are not for public viewing. The degree of laughter brought about could cause serious abdominal injury. Excuses? Lots: Age, weight of baggage, accumulative fatigue, hills and most of all, today’s relentless 20 to 40mph headwind. More of that soul destroying need to push hard on the pedals to get down the hills, as experienced previously when heading north through the north west Highlands into those northerly gales. Much more useful than ride data analysis would be some help from my fellow cyclists from our first RNLI fundraiser. Cycling from St Davids to Lowestoft, our mini peloton was capable of maintaining very respectable progress across the widest part of the UK mainland. So Dave, just get on your bike, pick up Ian, Jeremy, Marylou and get up here to take your share of the wind. You could be my domestiques, carring my bags & bottles, shielding me from the headwind and passing trucks. I could be Cav, released like a slingshot over the last 20 metres to steal the glory. Is that really too much to ask?

Meanwhile, through the blur of pain, I do remember leaving a very busy Aberdeen and eventually reaching the first destination of the day at Stonehaven. This Lifeboat Station has a complex recent history. Originally an RNLI Station, then an independent Inshore Rescue team and now back in the RNLI fold. Thanks to George(LOM), Steve (LPO) and Dave (crew) for the welcome break. Good luck with the ongoing plans for the continuing operation of an essential rescue service along the Stonehaven stretch of the coastline. Thanks also to Vicky at the Harbour Hut café. A great restorative panini lunch but the real energy boost came from the kind gift. A slab of the local recipe ‘tablet’. For those like me, who have no previous experience of this delicacy, it’s a bit like Kendal Mintcake without the mint but fudgier and packed with a secret, possibly banned substance. It certainly helped me struggle through to the final destination of the day. At Montrose A/ILB, they have the first of the new Shannon Class class of lifeboats in Scotland and an equally essential D Class Inshore Rescue boat. Particular thanks to Scott, the full time Mechanic/ Cox’n for allowing such an exhausted heap to use your fine boathouse as a home for the night. Also, to the many crew members who turned up for their regular training night, thanks for the laughs, words of encouragement and gifts! All well worth the extra weight in my panniers. Here comes my longest list of assembled Lifeboatmen credits in one visit: Scott (Mech/Coxn), Kyle, Calum, Ryan, Graham(ILB Helm), Kai, Rick(LTO), Rich(Dep 2nd Cox’n), Kevin(2nd Mech), Gary (maint. Mech, ILB) Ray (LOM), Aaron, Max, Craig, and Rich.Enough crew to man both lifeboats with plenty of spares.

Day 60  Tuesday 3 May:  Blue sky, bright sunshine, 9°C at 9.00a.m. What does this mean? Apart from at least 10°C at 10.00a.m., this means the first day on the bike without the red winter jacket I’ve had to wear every day since Tighnabruaich or Arran, on the west side. Final thanks to Vic and Billy at Fraserburgh on this fine morning. A very enjoyable, memorable visit. It’s quite humbling to be made so welcome by such fine people.

Still no headwind. No hills of significance, all the way to the first stop at Peterhead, the most easterly point of Scotland. Another big harbour, still quite busy, being the biggest whitefish port in the UK. Having only expected one member of the Peterhead crew to turn up, it was so good to see Andy (cox’n) plus five more curious but very friendly young crew members, namely Ali, David, Andy, Jim and Gordon. Word was obviously out. I suppose they just wanted to see what a mad, middle aged (I know, I flatter myself) man wearing lycra and a Lifeboat vest on a bicycle looks like. Thanks for not staring, nor making rude comments. Having heard how difficult it is for some of the more remote Lifeboat Stations to muster new, young blood, it was great to meet a good number of genuinely enthusiastic lads ‘on board’. They proudly maintain and run the very first of the Tamar class of Lifeboats on the fleet. More compact compared to the Severn but still a great, fast, long range, all-weather boat. Thanks for the welcome break and very useful route advice. You were right, the quiet coastal route was the best option. A little further and quite exposed to what had now become more of a head wind, having turned slightly west of a southerly heading. But worth the extra couple of peaceful miles.

Eventually, the horrors of sharing the road with many fast, huge lorries was unavoidable for about 9 of the 11 last miles along the A90 into Aberdeen. The final stretch along the wide, traffic free Esplanade was a great relief. I had no idea that this major city had such a long beach. And a huge port. Dozens of very large foreign and UK registered vessels, including the Hrossey, one of the two familiar Northlink Ferries boats which sail between here and Lerwick via Kirkwall. The Shetlands and Orkneys now seem such a long way north. That’s because they are. Lerwick is closer to Bergen in Norway than it is to Aberdeen.

Thanks to Bill, the LOM and Calum, the full time mechanic for allowing us (not forgetting Fondo) to make full use of your smart, modern, very well appointed Lifeboat Station. Now a combined All-weather and Inshore station, with a Severn Class and a D Class Lifeboat, Aberdeen has a long and esteemed history of over 200 years of saving lives at sea.

Let’s not forget, that is what the RNLI is. The charity that saves lives at sea. If I manage, with Fondo’s help, to reach my target of £8,000 raised, it might seem a tiny drop in the massive ocean of funds required to run these lifeboats. But many drops combine to top up that big ocean.

Alas, my target of just £1 per mile pedalled is beginning to look a bit too ambitious. As the miles add up and roll by, the pounds are struggling to catch up. So, if you could continue to spread the word and share this with friends, family and colleagues it would be hugely appreciated. Thanks.

Day 59  Monday 2 May: Of the three target Lifeboat stations for today, Macduff was the one that nearly got away. Before I explain, let’s start at the beginning. Buckie is another one of those big but now relatively quiet ports with a history of fishing on a very large scale, similar to so many others. With the decline of fishing, the port managed to hang on for some time to a thriving boatyard, responsible for much of the building, repair and  refitting of many a vessel along this Moray coast, including the maintenance of much of the RNLI fleet. The eventual demise of the boatyard was another blow. The only saving grace was that there remained a good sized community of able and willing mariners available for voluntary Lifeboat service. Today, the RNLI continues to operate a very important and successful Severn Class Lifeboat. Many thanks to Alan (Cox’n) and  Marcus, (dep 2nd Mech on loan from Kirkwall). Good to see you again. Thanks to you both for route advice and sending me off on the right track.

Shame I didn’t exactly follow the advice carefully enough. 26 miles later, I realised I must have missed a turning. A quick call to Chassey (Sen.Helm) confirmed my fears. I’d overshot the turn to the Macduff ILB Station and cycled 3 miles beyond, up a long climb. No choice, can’t miss one out. I had to turn back. Macduff are unique in that they have a special launching platform for their Atlantic B Class Inshore Rescue Boat, which lives on the back of a very smart, big truck. This means they can, if necessary drive to an alternative launch sight along the coast. The usual, very quick launch is from their own adjacent slipway. Great for Inshore Rescue work but I wouldn’t fancy being one of the crew on board an open air boat dashing across the heavy swell in the kind of conditions often faced in the North Sea. That’s when a new Shannon All Weather boat would be greatly appreciated. Maybe, one day…?

Back on the road, up the now familiar first climb on the route to today’s third and final destination. Another 25 miles to go. The wind was still with me and any time lost earlier was made up by the time I reached Fraserburgh. This is the biggest, busiest port visited so far. Today I had the privilege of meeting two of the Sunderland family, at least 5 of whom have served on the Fraserburgh Lifeboat, including Vic (senior), now retired, who was a crew member here for many years, serving with his twin brother Albert (then Cox’n) and cousin David. Many thanks to the current Cox’n/mech, the younger Vic Sutherland, for all your help, including finding somewhere very local to stay at Cheers Tavern, run by Dennis Forsyth, who provided accommodation at no charge. Cheers indeed Dennis!

There has been a lifeboat here at Fraserburgh for over 200 years, with the RNLI taking charge 158 years ago 1858. Many medals for galantry have been awarded but sadly, Fraserburgh Lifeboat has suffered great tragedy on three occasions. In 1919, 1953 and 1970 a total of 13 volunteer crew members’ lives have been lost whilst attempting to rescue others in difficulty at sea.

Day 58  Sunday 1 May: Mayday, Mayday. The distress call I hope never to use. Very unlikely, being neither a pilot nor a sailor. I have however, experienced engine failure in a two seater light aircraft, some years ago. The pilot sitting next to me was brother Neil, Mr Cool. We weren’t high enough for Neil to have the luxury of time to consider the most appropriate distress call. The ground was approaching quite quickly. Fortunately we were above a field so large it has its own name. Bedfordia. With the light wind roughly parallel to the ploughed furrows, decision made. Mr Cool’s perfectly executed no power glide approach put us down gently in a soft, muddy field. The hard bit was getting it out of the middle of a field the size of five thousand football pitches. That’s another story.
So why am I telling you all this? Can’t remember…
Oh yes! Mayday. Today’s date and the distress call used by those in trouble at sea or in the air. Also the time of year that most Lifeboat communities around the coast hold fundraising events like the big burger event on Saturday at Invergordon Lifeboat station.
Also, not much to say about today’s ride from Inverness to Buckie. A gently undulating, quite fast 60 mile ride via no Lifeboat stations. Except much classic car rally activity and associated nostalgia. Feeling a bit sad about another love of my life. DEB. My 1953 Rover 75, tucked up in the garage in Lowestoft. Our faithful family car for many years, covering thousands of miles of regular domestic duties plus several long range family holidays, a few memorable European tours and a good number of wedding car duties for family and friends. Not exactly ababdoned but not receiving much attention these days. Any offers?
I digress. Again.
Much more relevant tales to report tomorrow I hope, with three Lifeboat stations to visit. Buckie, Macduff and Fraserburgh. They sound more like three dodgy local characters.

Day 57  Saturday 30 April:  Avoiding major A roads is not always possible when trying to follow the coast roads between Lifeboat Stations. In the far north and west and on the Western and Northern Isles it didn’t matter. With such light traffic, single track roads with passing places are a joy and the A prefix defies the definition, based loosely on road width on the O.S. map legend. Heading south and east on today’s route, towards bigger towns and through more frequent villages brings with it a motorised population increasing at a faster rate than the programme to widen and straighten these busy roads. That’s when it starts getting scary on a bike. Should cyclists keep as far left as possible to allow cars, vans, lorries and buses to overtake without them being inconvenienced when there are vehicles coming the other way? Or should bicycle riders claim their share of the road, forcing following vehicles to wait until the coast is clear ahead and passing wide, well over into the oncoming lane? Most of you car drivers won’t like this, but as a cyclist and car driver for over 40 years, I side more with the latter. On a bicycle, riding very close to the kerb or verge can be hazardous. That first foot of road is always the most potholed,  with stones, broken glass, nuts & bolts, road kill and damaged, displaced or missing drain covers. Fellow bikers, get out of the gutter! You’re only encouraging impatient drivers to squeeze through the almost wide enough space you’ve offered them. Fellow drivers, please be more patient. Hold back until you have a clear road ahead and swing wide. Does it really matter if your journey takes a few seconds more?

The last few miles to Kessock were along a peaceful minor road and cycle track, down to the dramatic setting of the big, modern Lifeboat Station, in the shadow of the huge Kessock bridge, spanning the Beauly Firth across to Inverness. Much here in common with Kyle of Lochalsh LBStn,  with an Atlantic 85 Inshore Rescue Boat and a big bridge at the centre of their patch. Thanks Stan (Snr Helm/mech) for allowing me free access to the biggest supply of biscuits, choc bars and fruit cake I have seen in all of the 88 Lifeboat Stations visited so far.

Next, over the above bridge, through Inverness and down to Loch Ness ILB Station. Sometimes a well known place name conjures up images of mythical associations so far-fetched that any reference to such silliness would be unworthy of inclusion. So I won’t. The road alongside Loch Ness is not remarkable. No monster climbs. Just a few snaking curves. The Lifeboat Station half way down this long Loch is unique, in that it has the only freshwater RNLI boat on mainland Britain. Ireland also has a couple. Do you know the difference between a freshwater lifeboat and a salt water one? No? Lick one and you’ll find out. Thanks Ewan (LOM & mech), Neil (Snr Helm), Joanna (DLA, FR) and Gordon (DLA, landlord) for the welcome cuppa and illuminating chat. Good luck with the plans for a new, bigger station in the near future. You certainly need it, with barely enough room to swing a cat, or more appropriately, a mono-hull.

Back up along the lochside road to Inverness, where I now recline in the private lounge of my own deluxe suite in the AA**** rated Moyness Guest House, run by John Martin, ex RNLI Senior Crew, ret’d. Of course I’d recommend it. But you might have to do silly things whilst wearing a Lifeboats vest to be able to afford it.