Shelley the Lifeboat Labrador

  SHELLEY THE LIFEBOAT LABRADOR

  BY JOHN PERIAM

  TO MY WIFE CINDY

  FOR ALL HER

  SUPPORT AND UNDERSTANDING

  On reflection, life is a series of adventures which involve meeting many people, some become acquaintances and others become friends. However, there are those special friends who become very close and stay in contact throughout life. It may be a phone call a year - a Christmas card or just the odd visit but as you get older these contacts sadly seem to decrease in number. In each period of my life there always seems to be a particular friend or family member who has stood out alone above all others who fit into this mould. I must add to this list the RNLI who I am proud to have been associated with. It is institutions and people like this who have made this book possible in bringing back the many memories Shelley and I shared. THANK YOU

  A COMMENT FROM THE RNLI ’LOOKOUT MAGAZINE’

  BY

  JANET SPENCER

  “The RNLI is a very special organisation to be part of, John has indeed been lucky to know so many wonderful people who love and respect him along with his former faithful companion. I certainly enjoyed reading all about it.”

  January 2013 (Book Updated)

  A FEW WORDS FROM PETER HUXTABLE MBE SHOREHAM HARBOUR LIFEBOAT COXSWAIN ABOUT THIS BOOK

  …………………………………………………...

  I only know too well what it is like to have a dog as a trusted companion. At the time John refers to in this book I had a Labrador called ‘Gilbert’. Most days we could be seen leaving Shoreham Harbour together for another trip to sea. I had my own boat then and Gilbert took every opportunity he could to join me fishing whatever the weather. He was a real ‘Salty Dog’.

  Since then I have served on Shoreham Lifeboat for a total of 43 years and am now Coxswain of the new Tamar Lifeboat which arrived at the station in late 2010. This year will be my final year before I hand over to a new Coxswain. As John says in this book; there have been some fun times and some sad times. Of course technology has changed since ‘Shelley’ was around. Life was different then and there was a real family atmosphere at the station which is something I am now trying to encourage once again.

  Tradition played an important part with son’s following fathers and grandfathers. Shoreham had a large fishing community which sadly has now declined due to the many quotas the fishing industry has to deal with.

  John was like many at the boathouse a character (and there were plenty of those) but was always prepared to be part of the team. He would be the first to admit if he was not happy doing certain things and at times it was a challenge for him. He never gave in and was prepared to learn. He enjoyed the fund raising side of being a crew member as several chapters in this book refer to. It takes all types to run a Lifeboat Station and I have a feeling once you start to read this book it will give you a little more insight in to what went on behind the scenes. As for Shelley she was John’s right arm and was never far away even if swimming at the foot of the slipway.

  Only one crew member is full time at a station and we all have working lives. John brings in some very amusing stories related to this. We are all volunteers but we still have to earn a living!

  I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I did.

  PETER HUXTABLE MBE

  SHOREHAM HARBOUR LIFEBOAT COXSWAIN

  November 2011

  “SHELLEY” A FAITHFULL AND LOYAL FRIEND UNTIL THE END

  (1973 -1986)

  A STORY OF A’ LIFEBOAT’ LABRADOR

  BY JOHN PERIAM

  CHAPTER 1

  Southwold was one of those small coastal resorts that we came across by accident. I had been married to Christine for a year and was working for a well established medical organisation as a hospital representative. Changes had been going on within the company and they offered me the opportunity to cover the East Anglia region. I came from a family steeped in Lincolnshire tradition and had a soft spot for this part of the East Coast so both of us decided to give it a go.

  Having lived by the sea for most of our lives at Hythe in Kent, where we met, we felt it would be nice to choose a property along the coast. In 1972 property was beginning to increase in price after a lull in the market. On a couple of occasions we put an offer in only to be gazumped at the last minute. Luck was on our side when we drove into Southwold and came across a development being converted into small flats on offer to rent. The owner was there and before we knew it we had signed on the dotted line.

  There is something about Southwold that to this day lingers in one’s mind. It was love at first sight with the lighthouse, cliff walk, beach huts, harbour, shops and, as I was to find out later the friendly people.

  Within a couple of weeks we had moved into the maisonette situated at the back of the complex. It gave us access to the garden whilst giving us a lounge on the first floor and two bedrooms on the second floor and one more bedroom on a third level. It was our first home and was something we had looked forward to since we first met and had decided to get married.

  At the end of the road there was a small pier and beach with a footpath going up into Southwold and a lower path by the famous beach huts which carried along under the cliffs towards the harbour. At night the sunsets over the bleak North Sea cast a magical look over the town with the lighthouse to the fore. How many times has this been captured on canvas and film?

  We got to know the walks into the town well. If it was a cold easterly wind blowing in from the sea one would take the route through the larger up-market properties towards the back of the local Adnams brewery. When sunny it was always the coastal path past the historical Fisherman’s Reading Room and lighthouse, then in front of Nelson Inn to the small square outside The Swan Hotel. Every time one walked into Southwold there was something new to see over the four seasons.

  Work was a new challenge for me, meeting new clients and finding my way around many of the region’s hospitals. There were three ways into Southwold from the main Ipswich to Lowestoft road and all ended at the bottom of the road we lived in. In the winter months travel was so easy, but once the summer arrived the road became very busy with holiday makers on their way to the Broads and Great Yarmouth. In those days the three piers in Great Yarmouth had major summer shows and the area was full of holiday caravan parks and guest houses. I soon learnt the new term for Friday afternoon ‘Poets Day’ which translated means ‘Piss off Early Tomorrow is Saturday’. By doing this I missed the bulk of the holiday traffic and had the opportunity to get home early and do my paper work.

  After a while I became very experienced at completing my paper work as I went around after each call. When I got back I could pop into the Swan Hotel for a pint around lunch time.

  Situated in the square it was the centre of attraction with its white façade and small entrance. To the side was an arch which led to some garden rooms and an exit once again to the back of the brewery.

  The hotel inside was cosy and very well furnished and the staff were always friendly – it had a very good reputation for both accommodation and the quality of the food. The bar was always busy and to the rear there was a solid glass window which contained more bottles of Scotch than I have ever seen to this day. It was a charismatic place and as I was to find out one of those establishments that the locals used every day at a certain time! On my first couple of visits it was a situation of saying hello (being rather an outgoing person) than being ignored. There was the odd glance from the bar every now and then wondering who I was and where I had come from?

  After a while I was delighted to find that on arrival my drink was poured for me without asking. Also one or two of the regulars began speaking to me. The first was a
local poultry farmer called Jack Henderson – he always arrived at 12 noon and left at 1-15. He was a gruff character; often wearing a check shirt and woollen jumper showing a sincere interest in what one did. Then there was Biddy Denny a local builder who also owned one of the largest removal companies in East Anglia. He, like Jack, was a very endearing person and always had time to listen.

  The hotel was managed by Rick and Daphne Bath-Jones and they had control over the entire establishment as well as those that used it. One foot wrong! It was a slapped wrist or a fate worse than death – being asked to leave. Rick served as a Tank Commander during the Second World War but again was very modest about it - whilst Daphne was the lady of the establishment. Arriving in the bar at a set time each day with her two miniature dogs she always took the same seat with her drink from Rick waiting. As I was to find out later in life she is a very understanding and caring person.

  In the meantime although Christine liked Southwold she found it a little quiet. An opportunity came for her to take a job with a well established animal feed company ‘Tucks of Burston’. It was owned by a person called Ralph Tuck who was also known locally as the person who discovered the Singing Postman (he recorded the song ‘Have you got a light boy’). Another side line to Ralph was the fact that he was a presenter with his own programme on Radio Norwich for many years.

  Always on the lookout for a fresh challenge he set up his own sales and marketing training company running courses and making promotional videos for many a well established business. Christine and I met him one day at the Swan and he offered Christine a job as his PA working in Southwold. It turned out to be an exciting and rewarding time, giving her many opportunities to meet many people and help Ralph run his courses.

  Over the next few months we got settled into the life of Southwold – the people were very understanding although at times a little hard to get to know. As one fisherman Martin said to me when I offered to buy a round in The Harbour Inn. “John; you don’t have to buy our friendship we have taken to you and Christine and we like you.” A comment I have remembered to this day.

  There seemed to be a routine in the town of moving at a set time from one pub to another, each one had its regulars and on certain day’s one knew where to find a certain person. I remember going into the Kings Head and seeing Jack with a friend who had a black Labrador, the dog was stunning, quiet and curled up at his master’s feet. Over the next few weeks I got to know the dog more. Jack surprised me by saying in his Suffolk accent, “How’s about you and Christine getting one. I know the farmer well and he is due some puppies soon.”

  The rest is history! A discussion with Christine, a phone call to Jack , a call to the landlord to see if we could have a dog in the maisonette followed by a call to my Company regarding dogs travelling in company cars. The plan was approved and put into action.

  It was some 9 weeks later that we both drove over to Bungay and into the yard of the small farm house. I remember it well! Situated at the bottom of the garden was a large kennel with 6 puppies and their mother. A friend once said to me. “If ever you buy a puppy always sit back and wait for the one that does not come to you, that is the one to go for.” I don’t know why but they all sat back apart from one who came forward, totally the opposite of what I was told. The farmer’s wife said “In my book that is the one for you. She obviously is keen for you to see her.” After some deliberation the decision was made and the £30 was paid for her.

  As we left the farm our new pal was already beginning to make her self known to us both. It was the start of a big adventure, a lot of trauma, a lot of love and most important of all the story of a true friendship.

  End of Chapter One

  THE EARLY DAYS – CHAPTER 2

  What was nice about our property was that it had a separate entrance and a large lawn to the right of it. The view was not the best looking. Out towards some garages at the rear, whilst from the lounge, we could see the lawns and the drive down to the garage area. However; it did give us the independence we needed without having to access the main front door into the other flats.

  We had been told by the landlord that if the dog upset any of the other residents his tenure would have to be reviewed. It was not long before we soon had it spick and span and furnished to meet our requirements. After all our main aim in life was to purchase a property, hence this was going to be an interim move. Sadly due to the economic climate and the ever increasing prices in the housing market this had to be put on hold.

  We were happy and as we drove back with Shelley in the back of my car. I noticed Christine had put a red ribbon around Shelley’s neck placing her in a small wicker shopping basket. Our first port of call was the Swan to see Jack and show him our new pal. The fuss people made of her was a little over powering but from the start we could see that she loved the attention. Even Daphne’s two little dogs stopped barking feeling that they had some competition including the red ribbon which they both had one the tops of their heads. After more introductions it was time to drive home before celebrations took over.

  Although having a dog had been approved by the landlord we both felt we should really make an effort and try and teach her to behave from the start. We had acquired some squeaky toys along with a new cane basket for her which we found out later would add to her destructive instincts. Her first run around the kitchen and lounge was amusing. She spent most of the time hiding behind the sofa and whimpering popping her little golden head out from behind it every now and then. After a while she decided her basket with the blanket was nice and cosy and that is where she stayed.

  You must not take a puppy out until all the vaccinations have been administered so we had three weeks before her first one. That’s why the back lawn was ideal. As she was unable to climb the stairs we felt confident we would both have a good night’s sleep. All seemed fine so we thought!

  As it was Sunday we decided to have a little lie in and then we both went down to find Shelley sitting in the middle of the lounge with the remains of two of my Unesco Courier Magazines and the Television Times torn to shreds. We also discovered little wet patches on our new light green carpet and a mini poo behind the sofa. We thought this could be a problem as the carpet had been provided by the builder which resulted in us both having panic attacks.

  A quick phone call to Jack and we were told the best thing to do was to put newspaper on the wet patches followed by a squirt of soda with some old books on top. “It works wonders! All you need to do is to leave them for a couple of hours then lift the books and you will see the newspaper has absorbed all the pee up.” How right he was and we knew our first major obstacle had been overcome. We also decided to use the lawn more with little walkies around it knowing that once she was a little older this would all be a thing of the past.

  Initially the lounge looked like an assault course with piles of books all over the place resulting in us trying to remember which little accident was the oldest. To overcome this we wrote notes with numbers on which made life a little easier. Rick at the Swan provided us with a regular soda siphon from the bar each week.

  For three weeks we were totally occupied with Shelley. We took her with us in the basket when we went out for a drink and likewise when we visited our families back home at Hythe in Kent. Fortunately she travelled well in the car. She loved people and spent most of her time licking one to death or chewing one’s finger or ear – her little sharp teeth sometimes leaving a lasting impression for those who wanted to hold her.

  Back at home magazines were put on top of bookcases, curtain bottoms were put on the window sills held down by more books and the legs of our new coffee table had nice little chew marks embedded in them. As for her new cane bed it was to end up as her number one chew. Day by day and night by night it gradually reduced in size with bits of cane scattered all over the downstairs into the kitchen. Our new Hoover became an old one when we found the bag torn to shreds and the cable chewed. I am glad to say the ironing board cover just about remained in
tact after it nearly crushed her when it fell down missing her by several inches resulting in a no go from then on.

  As much as one wanted to scold her it was the little twinkle in her eye and the slight turn of her head looking up to you that said it all. The more we tried; it seemed to become an impossible task trying to keep her under control. Our phone bill increased as we both rang our doggy friends to seek their advice. Friction on the home front also took a sharp rise, but not to marriage guidance level I am glad to say. Before too long the first three weeks had passed and we were all still good friends with some form of mutual understanding.

  The first injection day and arrived and we were given the name of a good veterinary surgeon in Bungay. Daphne at the Swan had used the practice for years and could not praise them enough.

  When we got there having found a suitable parking place we came across this old Suffolk terrace house with marble pillars by the front door. The entrance hall was large with ornate black and white tiles on the floor and the odd hunting picture on the wall at skewed angles. It was cold and likewise was the receptionist. “Name please and would you sit down in the waiting room.” Meanwhile our four legged furry friend popped her head out from the wicker shopping basket and quickly disappeared again whimpering.