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The RNLI
Challenge 1999 (The
full story)
It's March
1999, only a few months left before the new millennium in which
to do something spectacular. A very good friend of mine, Bill
Bonfield, mentioned that there was an interesting challenge coming
up later in the year. 1999 was the 175th anniversary of the RNLI
(Royal National Lifeboat Institution), a charity funded wholly
by donations. To celebrate they decided to run the first RNLI
Challenge. The jolly wheeze was to visit as many lifeboat stations
as possible in 48 hours using any form of transport the team chose.
It seemed like a long way off and sounded like a good idea at
the time!
Having been
a keen motorcyclist for many years there really was no other choice
for the means of getting between stations, although the down side
to this decision was to strike us later - whilst teams using cars
would be able to stay on the move for the full 48 hours by sleeping
in rotation we would have to stay awake, alert, warm and cheerful
whilst riding safely and navigating as well as avoiding the diesel
spills, myopic Volvo drivers and slippery sheep droppings for
over 40 of the 48 hours.
The next thing
was to find three other adventurous souls who would be prepared
to join me. Enter Diederik, Stephen and Costas. Bill would have
loved to ride along with us but decided he was not really up to
it these days, besides he was expecting to be in France during
June, so he became unofficial chief organiser. The team assembled
for the first time in April for a planning meeting - unfortunately
my description of the task ahead was sufficient to persuade Diederik
that he would be unwise to attempt to ride all that way in one
weekend, probably the best decision he made that year - having
decided we could not let him off the hook completely we elected
him support vehicle driver. There then followed much discussion
about what we needed to achieve the maximum number of stations
in the allotted 48 hours. The highest concentrations of lifeboat
stations in the UK are around the Cornish coast and along the
North East coast. It had already been decided that there were
only two possible routes which would include a large number of
stations whilst providing a reasonably convenient start and end
point, these both involved starting at Aberystwyth, partly because
my mother-in-law lives only 20 miles away and we knew we would
get a good night's sleep there the night before the off. We thought
a sheet detailing the exact location of each station along with
a street map and directions would be useful so we set about designing
the layout for that. Bill had been busy at work during the previous
weeks and had entered the location for every one of the 220 lifeboat
stations in the UK into Autoroute. We ran the two routes through
the computer and decided that the best one would be the Cornish
route as it would end nearest to home for all of us. Bill set
to work again and contacted his local library, they were most
helpful and provided all the Ordnance Survey maps covering the
coastline from Aberystwyth to Brighton. Bill then created the
most amazing loose leaf folder with details of every station and
a drawing of the location - this was to prove invaluable on a
number of occasions later.
 Technology
was to be used to good effect wherever possible so we all thought
a GPS (Global Positioning System) would be useful. In view of
the fact that we now had a support driver we figured we had better
find something for him to drive - a large van would be great so
that we could store all the bits we didn't want to take on the
bikes and still have room to have a lie down should the weather
be less than perfect (more later). The next few weeks saw various
companies contacted for help. Sixt vehicle rental offered to loan
us a large van and even donated vouchers for two free tanks of
fuel, Garmin kindly agreed to loan 5 GPS units so that we could
fit one to each bike and have one for the support van, Travelodge
said they could provide two rooms at their Swansea hotel so that
we could sleep well on the first night.
In order to
ascertain the minimum amount of sleep we could safely manage with,
I surfed the Internet looking for expertise on sleep deprivation,
I found a number of useful pages provided by Loughborough University
along with details of the team there. I contacted a very helpful
lecturer, Dr Reyner, who advised me that we should take most of
our sleep on the first night, 5 hours was suggested, this would
mean that we were alert and ready for some serious motoring on
the Saturday, the second night we could manage with only 2 hours
sleep which would give us enough of a top up to get us through
Sunday. This advice proved invaluable and meant that none of us
ever felt dangerously tired despite the distance we travelled.
A couple more
planning meetings in May ensured that we would be as ready as
we were ever going to be. The only major problem facing us was
that we had not persuaded any other biker to join us so we used
our imagination and co-opted Arthur the stuffed monkey onto our
team allowing us to meet the rule stating that all teams must
have four members. Then potential disaster number one occurred,
I have spent 25 years not falling off motorbikes but whilst out
riding the green lanes on my trials bike I got stuck in a rut
and came a cropper at around 35 miles an hour, quite sufficient
to hurt, I badly bruised both legs and broke my right thumb as
I flew over the handlebars - only two weeks to go! Determined
not to be thwarted I got back on the bike next day to see if I
could manage the controls - all seemed OK provided I didn't have
to brake too hard. The day before setting off for Wales I was
on my monthly visit to Reading for the Jazz club when potential
disaster number two struck - the clutch on the bike stopped working,
I managed to limp home, stalling the bike on several occasions.
No time to get the bike booked into the dealer so I set about
learning about Kawasaki clutches from the manual, I very quickly
realised I was getting out of my depth so I rang Mike Crumbie,
a friend in the village for some moral support. Mike offered to
come and help so we set about stripping the clutch from an old
bike I had kept for spares. To cut a long story short we finally
finished rebuilding the clutch late on the Thursday afternoon,
around the time I was supposed to be arriving in Wales. I finally
left for Wales around six thirty and arrived at the pub where
I had arranged to meet Costas and Stephen at around 10:30. From
there we set off for Ruth's mum's house and a welcome rest before
the big day.
Friday morning
we had a lie in - the last one we would have for a few days! We
eventually got our act together and went to New Quay for a trial
run on a lifeboat station which I had not visited before. The
GPS led us towards the station and the sheet of directions showed
us the street we needed - in all it took about 3 minutes to find
our goal - mission accomplished we set about buying some fish
and chips for lunch. Then it was back to the house to greet Diederik
in the van.
Around 4pm
we set off for Aberystwyth at a leisurely pace, a gale force wind
was brewing and the sea was very rough, a sign of the weather
to come. The lifeboat station was decorated with flags and bunting
to welcome us - we were one of four teams starting from Aberystwyth.
In all there were 123 teams lining up around the country to take
part in the Challenge. We found out that two of the teams we were
up against were using helicopters.
The press
took lots of photos of the teams and then six o'clock approached
- all the team members were lined up along one side of the road
with their vehicles along the other, Le Mans style, the Coxswain
sent up a flare and we all ran to our bikes - engines fired up
instantly and we were first away, closely followed by a team in
a bright red Mondeo with RNLI Challenge emblazoned across the
bonnet and several sponsors names painted on the side. We were
somewhat bemused when we took what we thought would be the quickest
route to the next station, Borth, only to see the Mondeo behind
us take a different turning, a couple of miles down the main road
we turned off towards Borth 100 yards behind the Mondeo. We arrived
at Borth together only to see the benefits of having a team of
four in a car. They leapt out of the car, took the obligatory
photo to prove they had been there and 20 seconds later were gone
again. We on the other hand had to climb off the bikes, take off
gloves and extract the camera from my pannier, at least two members
of the team were required to be in the photo so Arthur and I were
snapped by Stephen whilst Costas was busy recording arrival time
and mileage (his allotted task at every station), we then inserted
the next sheet into our tank bag map cases, reset the GPS for
the next location, donned gloves and helmets again and headed
south towards New Quay.
New Quay came
and went, as did Cardigan. Due to my local knowledge and our early
energy we were almost an hour ahead of schedule when we reached
Fishguard. Our enthusiasm was given even more of a boost when
we were greeted by Bill and his wife Pat who had driven down from
London to cheer us on our way. The local press were also present
and we did our duty by posing again, the hardship of stardom!
Only time for a few more words with Bill then off to St David's
the most Westerly station in Wales. This is the smallest city
in the UK, which is just as well really as the lifeboat station
was hard enough to find as it was, our trusty GPS got us there
in the end. Next up we visited Little Haven where the station
is at the end of a twisty, steep and muddy hill, perhaps we should
have fitted knobbly tyres. Another track awaited us at Angle,
the next stop on route. After about a mile we came upon what appeared
to be a house but in fact turned out to be the local pub, how
they get any trade at the end of such a treacherous road I don't
know, but the pub was full. One of the drinkers was the Coxswain
who pointed us another third of a mile along the track to the
station. By now the rain had started in earnest and we wondered
what was in store for the rest of the weekend. Stephen decided
to try out his sideways riding technique on a wet manhole cover
which sprang out of nowhere, all his training and a certain amount
of luck meant he managed to pull off this daredevil feat with
only an increased heart rate to show for it.
Tenby looked
as if it was going to be tricky to find so we asked Diederik to
scout ahead in the van, he eventually found the station at the
end of a very narrow road and duly left a message on Costas's
mobile phone, despite this we still went round the one-way system
twice before finding the right road. Diederik, meanwhile, was
driving on fumes, he started work finding the next days first
stops and found some petrol before heading to the Swansea Travelodge
where a very welcome bed awaited. We set off via Burry Port and
got to the deserted Travelodge around 01:30 on Saturday morning,
263 miles under our belts, only another 850 or so to go. I had
spoken to Sylvia Davis, the manager of the Travelodge on the Wednesday
and she had mentioned that her family had been heavily involved
in the RNLI, sadly she was not on duty that morning but we were
quickly shown to our rooms. A surprise awaited us when we got
to the rooms as Bill and Pat had passed by earlier and left a
newspaper with a somewhat doctored headline which read "Middlesex
Madmen Invade Wales" as well as a quantity of Mars bars and
other goodies ready to speed us on our way next day.
The pre-arranged
alarm call came at 06:25 and it was time for a very quick shower
before venturing out into the fresh morning air, joy of joys the
rain had stopped. A quick refuel was in order as we were already
in the service area, then it was off to the Mumbles for the first
station of the day and a short breakfast stop. Next came the delights
of Port Talbot and Porthcawl. The familiar phrase "ride so
that you can stop within the distance you can see to be clear"
certainly came home to us near the next stop, Atlantic College,
when we rounded a corner to find three large highland cattle standing
across the road, they must have taken the wrong turning at Glasgow.
Fortunately we were riding safely and stopped a few feet away
from the largest of the three, they seemed to have very large
horns, perhaps it was the early hour that made them look more
frightening. The Atlantic College lifeboat station is behind the
college, fortunately we had been tipped off about this so we ignored
the "closed" signs and rode into the college grounds
to be faced with a fork in the road, needless to say we took the
wrong fork and ended up in a very muddy, slippery farmyard where
we had to attempt a three point turn.
Barry Dock
was next and then Penarth, then the rain started again just to
remind us that this was still Wales. So we headed for England
and Weston Super Mare, sadly the rain got worse so we looked forward
to lunch inside the van. Well, we found the van but it was locked
and Diederik was nowhere to be seen, a frantic phone call to his
mobile produced our saviour and we all piled into the back of
the van for a short lunch break. It was hard to force ourselves
back out into the rain but we knew we had to go, so it was back
on with the soggy gloves and we trudged our way for the rest of
the day round the unseasonably wet coast of Devon and Cornwall
visiting Minehead, Ilfracombe, Appledore, Clovelly, Bude, Port
Isaac, Rock and Padstow when the rain finally admitted we had
more stamina than it did just before New Quay. The road to New
Quay was especially beautiful, not only because of the wonderful
scenery and the gorgeous sunset but also because it was DRY!,
we even saw a very unusual underground house built into the hillside
We found
the lifeboat station in New Quay and sure enough there was the
van but once again no Diederik, he had gone off looking for sufficient
phone signal to call us from his mobile. In the meantime we had
ascertained that many of the lifeboat crew were enjoying themselves
at a party in the club next to the station. A couple of them broke
away from the action to make cups of tea for us to spur us on
to the next location. Diederik, meanwhile had managed to find
a signal and was calling his partner, Rebecca, to report progress
when a passing youth shouted "I'll have her knickers tonight
for sure", leaving Diederik to explain to Rebecca that he
really wasn't at some wild party, he eventually convinced her
and arrived back at the station in time to open up the van so
that we could have a sandwich for supper. Our memory of New Quay
is of young ladies wearing very short skirts and skimpy tops despite
the almost sub Arctic temperatures whilst we stood shivering in
our waterproofs, how can they do that, perhaps there is a direct
correlation between temperature endurable and the quantity of
anti-freeze (alcohol) they have consumed? Sadly this hypothesis
could not be studied further as it was now gone ten p.m. and we
were three minutes behind schedule. St Agnes and St Ives were
next on the list. Thanks to Costas's parking near a bend in St
Ives the local police stopped to ask us to move on so we persuaded
them to give us an escort out of town, just as well really as
the place is a mass of tiny streets. We arrived at Sennen Cove,
one mile from Land's End one minute before midnight. Marazion
was our next stop and on the approach we saw Bill, Pat and Diederik.
Unfortunately the lifeboat station was across a causeway which
was only accessible at low tide so we improvised and took a picture
in the car park instead. Bill informed us that he had managed
to persuade a local campsite to allow us to stay there for the
night so we enthusiastically headed off behind his Land Rover
in convoy. Diederik, Costas and Stephen slept in the van whilst
I decided to make the most of the lack of rain and slept out under
the stars. Around four in the morning the alarm clock woke us
and we set off towards The Lizard, leaving Bill tucked up in his
tent.
The dawn chorus
begun and it looked as if we were in for a pleasant day ahead
- WRONG as it turned out. The birds and rabbits in this neck of
the woods were obviously used to having the whole road to play
on at that time of the morning because their road sense was sadly
lacking, this somewhat reduced our progress for the first few
miles of the day but we did avoid any serious incidents. On the
way back from The Lizard we just had to stop for an unscheduled
photograph at a signpost, Costas Constantine who is Greek duly
posed under the post which was to "Constantine and Gweek".
We reached Falmouth and spotted a petrol station, not bad at ten
to six in the morning, so we filled up whilst we could. Just down
the road we came on some road works and dutifully stopped at the
red light. We waited a minute or so and became a little impatient,
another minute passed and Stephen got off his bike and started
jumping up and down in front of the sensor on the lights, as this
seemed not to be working I joined him, imagine if you can two
motorcyclists jumping around and waving in front of the lights
just after six in the morning - we'd have been locked up if a
police car had happened along. After about five minutes the lights
changed and having had our early morning aerobics we headed for
Fowey and then Looe. We met Diederik at the Harbour for breakfast
and watched the fishing boats heading off for the day. It was
here that Costas made his big mistake, he took his waterproof
jacket off and asked Diederik to carry it in the van as the sun
was quite warm. NOT GOOD - the rain started again on the approach
to Plymouth and didn't stop for most of the day again. I had worked
out that if we kept up our current rate of progress it was possible
we could achieve 46 to 48 stations before the six o'clock deadline
so I mentioned to the others that "48 in 48" would be
a fitting slogan for the event, it was around this time that they
decided I should no longer be known as "MileMuncher"
but "SlaveDriver" was more appropriate, how unkind.
We rode on through increasingly wet conditions to Salcombe. A
well meaning member of the crew there suggested it would be best
to take the minor roads along the coast to reach Torbay via the
ferry at Dartmouth instead of the route we had planned via Totnes.
A quick look at the map confirmed that the distance was considerably
shorter so against our better judgement we decided to opt for
the coastal route. I have never seen so many drivers whose cars
could not exceed 30 MPH and then to cap it all the ferry at Dartmouth
was sitting on the far bank of the river waiting to fill up with
cars before crossing. We waited at least ten minutes before it
arrived and as we were now well behind schedule I had a quick
word with the ferryman to explain our predicament and how we were
on a charity challenge to benefit the RNLI - he definitely wins
the prize for the least helpful person we came across on our journey
- not only did he insist on us parking our bikes behind the cars,
he also opened the far gate first so that all the cars had to
leave the ferry before we could get off, maybe he got out of bed
the wrong side that morning. Having left Salcombe over 35 minutes
ahead of schedule we arrived at Torbay 5 minutes late, It was
becoming obvious a major push would be needed so lunch was abandoned
and Teignmouth and Exeter beckoned.
Driving along
the dual carriageway into Exemouth I just had to laugh out loud
as the most enormous hail stones suddenly showered on to us with
no warning - they were so big they hurt. We slowed gently from
70 MPH for fear of sliding on the icy ball bearings beneath us.
We knew the weather couldn't get any worse so we just hoped it
would get better. The weather was also delaying our progress somewhat
and we were fearful we might not manage the 48 in 48 which had
become our goal. Not to be defeated we discovered that Exemouth
has in fact got two working lifeboat stations, an inshore and
an offshore one, so we visited both and counted that as two more
on our score, well it was for charity after all. Lyme Regis saw
Diederik again - he had diverted off course to deliver Costas
his jacket back, for what it was worth. As we got near Weymouth
the traffic got heavier and progress became more tricky. The road
to Swanage was particularly busy, who were all these people and
why did they want to go out on a wet, cold Sunday afternoon? The
planned tea-break at Swanage was abandoned as we were still 20
minutes behind and anyway the end was now in sight, what is more
it had finally stopped raining, or did we just imagine that bit?
Poole was the scene of a quick strategy meeting with Bill, Pat
and Diederik at which we decided we could make our target with
a supreme last ditch effort. It was now five to five so we had
only sixty-five minutes to go. We got to Mudeford and I stopped
to ask a chap if we were on the right road - he tried to tell
me two or three different routes to the lifeboat station despite
my thanks and protestations that we only had a very short time
left, I eventually managed to extricate myself and left him reeling
off other alternative routes. As we drove over the speed humps
into the car park at Mudeford at a very sedate 5 MPH I heard a
loud crack - on investigation I found that the bracket holding
my nearside pannier to the bike had broken. The pannier was held
on only by gravity so I quickly improvised and tied it on with
my scarf. We finally left Mudeford with only 21 minutes to travel
the 10 miles to Lymington and find the lifeboat station. It seemed
like every road we needed had a thirty MPH limit and to make matters
worse the traffic was heavy. Much to our relief we found the station
at Lymington almost straight away thanks to the GPS and pulled
in with only six minutes to spare. Bill and Pat in the Land Rover
and Diederik in the van all arrived within a few minutes so we
arranged ourselves for the obligatory team photo. The sense of
achievement was immense - we had done what we set out to do -
forty-eight lifeboat stations in forty-eight hours. We could finally
relax and stood around chatting, reliving various stations and
drinking cans of Red Bull. Before we knew what had happened it
was half past seven so Stephen set off for London. Costas, on
the other hand, was feeling rather rough having had a severe stomach
ache for several hours. He decided to join Bill, Pat and Diederik
back at my place for the evening as it was closer than London.
Needless to say we all slept rather well that Sunday night.
Was it worth
it? Yes, we will collect around three thousand pounds for the
RNLI as a result of the ride and it was very satisfying to see
the preparation, planning and team spirit work so well.
What of the
other teams? Well we beat both the teams using helicopters! They
had to retire due to the bad weather and high winds. Our team
was placed 27th out of the 123 teams that took part. The winning
team was using a VW Sharan people carrier which allowed them to
sleep whilst on the move. They kept going for the full 48 hours
and managed a staggering 68 stations in that time.
Finally a
big thank you to my fellow team members, Stephen Trevelyan, Costas
Constantine, Diederik Kohnhorst, Bill & Pat Bonfield and all
the sponsors, Sixt for the van which kept us warmer and dryer
than we would otherwise have been, Garmin for helping keep us
on track, Travelodge for ensuring one good nights sleep, Surrey
County Library for their help in finding 25 Ordnance Survey maps,
Dr Reyner at Loughborough University for helping us to stay awake,
Brian Stevens for fitting the GPS units, Mike Crumbie for helping
to fix the clutch on my bike, Reading Jazz Club, The RNA, Middlesex
Advanced Motorcyclists, Salisbury Plain Advanced Motorists, the
Swallowcliffe Newsletter and The Royal Oak for providing the sponsors.
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