Shelley the Lifeboat Labrador Read online

  Initially he was not that fond of Shelley – I think he could take or leave dogs. After a while he did start showing a lot of kindness towards Shelley bringing her bones and buying her the odd treat. Sometime he would invite several of us back to his house for a few Pink Gins and Shelley was always on the list.

  He loved his cricket and rugby and read the Telegraph avidly every day doing very well at the crossword. His routine was such that he would move on from one pub to another at a set time finishing up at the Yacht club for two final half’s before he walked home. He was not an evening man and liked to stay at home listening to one of the many Roberts radios that he had around the house. There was no television and he lived in a time warp that seemed to go back to the day he lost his wife. He never forgave himself for the accident. He had two daughters and used to visit them from time to time and sometimes they would come down to Shoreham with their children.

  I recall one day that I got a phone call from him asking if I would like to join him and his family for lunch on the steam train at Sheffield Park called the ‘Bluebell Line’. This was typical Harry – organised to the last fine detail. It was a wonderful day and we all had a beautiful lunch on the steam train going up and down the track. We even met Dame Vera Lynn who was on the train with her daughter Virginia and husband Tom. That was a bonus as I had known both Tom and Virginia for a while through one of my old RAF friends Group Captain Barry Titchen. Harry always remembered that day and spoke about it often. I was later to see a lot more of Virginia and Tom as well as Dame Vera with my Hickstead connections and Shoreham Airshow involvement.

  Virginia and Tom were also great dog lovers and they had a retriever – they both met Shelley several times and always gave her a lot of affection. One can always tell a true dog lover as the bond between both man and dog is shown on the initial few seconds of the first meeting.

  End of Chapter Sixteen

  THE FALKLANDS TRIP MINUS SHELLEY – CHAPTER 17

  My stepmother Marjorie whom my father married following my mothers death had Alzheimer’s and was in a nursing home at Hythe in Kent. As mentioned earlier I was not left anything by my father when he passed away as it went to Marjorie. We were not that close and I only visited her from time to time and made the odd phone call. I was sadly informed that she had passed away one evening. Her sister’s son contacted me about the funeral and I went to Hythe taking Shelley and using the visit as an excuse to visit old friends.

  I was surprised to be told following the funeral that I had been left some money from Marjorie that my late father had asked her to look after for me. It was not a vast amount but gave me the opportunity to purchase some new furniture (which was badly needed). One day I found myself in a hi-fi shop in Brighton and included a rather nice Technics hi fi system under the furniture banner or should I say ‘self indulgence’ banner!

  I had always liked jazz from a very young age and throughout my life had collected many records. In the sixties I spent a lot of time at ‘Ronnie Scott’s’ club in London where I managed to see just about every well established jazz icon that was around. I worked for Kodak many years ago in their film unit and met a couple of people in the same department called Warren and Veryan and they started taking me to many concerts at The Festival Hall where I saw people such as Duke Ellington, Miles Davis and Ella Fitzgerald. It was a wonderful time and I had the chance to meet them back stage collecting their autographs and their records. I even went to New York twice on business and visited all the major jazz clubs. It was a very special time in my life and one that to this day I cherish with great pride (more later).

  I had no intentions of making Shelley a jazz dog, it just happened! One evening I was listening to John Coltrane’s ‘Chasing the Trane’ and noticed Shelley was sitting on the floor close to one of the speakers moving her head from left to right and cocking her ears up at the same time. This was to become a standard routine every time I put John Coltrane on. She became very selective and loved the Modern Jazz Quartet but did not like Dave Brubeck and walked out of the lounge onto her bed in the kitchen.

  Duke Ellington made her rush round in circles trying to chase her tail and Pharaoh Saunders made her yell from time to time. It became a party trick every time I had someone around that liked jazz. Perhaps I was right in calling her Shelley after Shelley Manne the jazz drummer.

  I had some funds left over after my initial spend and decided to go on a holiday that would be a lot different. Never one for crowded resorts I had a look through some brochures and opted for The Falkland Islands. Not many people knew where they were and several to look at a map to find them. I even recall one friend thinking they were in Scotland. What was I going to do with Shelley as four weeks was a little too long to ask Molly and she was getting a little frail now, hence I opted for a kennel. I frankly was not keen but found one out in the country at the back of Shoreham. On inspection it seemed fine was small with some good staff. Molly had promised to get her best pal to take her out for a drive to see her from time to time giving her an excuse for a drink in the country also.

  It was not long before I was on my way and I dropped Shelley off which was rather emotional. Once at RAF Brize Norton I phoned the kennel to see if she was fine and was told not to worry anymore. Just after the conflict travel to the Falklands was only by RAF and they took several civilian paying passengers on each trip.

  The flight was 21 hours stopping at Ascension Island and it was great flying with the RAF. As we approached the Falklands we were escorted in by two RAF Phantoms. I won’t go into too much detail except to say the Islands were stunning and memories linger to this day. The islanders were characters in their own right and I was obliged to stay with them as there were no hotels apart from the one in Port Stanley and small lodge on Sea Lion Island.

  It was a photographers dream and I had purchased a couple of new Nikon cameras and ended up taking well over 50 rolls of slide film. The wild life was certainly better than expected and a day never passed without meeting penguins. I recall one day sitting down on a desolate beach waiting for them to return around 4pm to feed their young. The sea became alive and they came in by the thousands through the killer whales and sea lions that were waiting for them jumping out of the surf onto the long beaches all around me. Most rushed past me to their colony to feed their young whilst others were interested in what I was doing stopping and had a glance into my camera bag before moving on.

  I met a man Bob Gilby on this holiday and we were to become good friends and have kept in touch since. Bob was an ex police officer who worked for the special branch looking after senior government members. What a character, so full of enthusiasm and knowledge having done his homework on the islands before he left home. We shared rooms from time to time as some of the places we stayed at were just ordinary island properties.

  During the Falklands conflict a local teacher was sadly killed by a stray shell. Stories abounded about her and the fact that she could be seen to this day around the island. I had to get up one night to spend a penny and as I was walking up the stairs of the Upland Goose Hotel I saw this lady at the top in a ball gown. I went past her and I suddenly became icy cold and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I turned and got a nice smile and then she was gone. I mentioned this to the owner of the hotel and he said, “Don’t worry you have seen our beloved teacher. She is so happy and likes to see what is going on.” I checked this out several times over the following years and it does appear that I had seen a kindred spirit!

  I did miss Shelley and sent her post cards addressed to the kennels. Little did I realise that there were only two posts a week from the islands to the UK and when I got home I was told that she got batches of cards together. I made a couple of phone calls also and was told all was fine and that the cards were placed on her kennel wall. It appears also that she got on well with the owner and after a few days had managed to get herself a place in the lounge by the open fire. If that was not kennel love what was!

  The four weeks
went past very quickly and it was soon time to fly back to the UK. I was tanned which was caused by the wind that is forever blowing and the warmth of the salt air. When home I did for a while look into going back there to live as I fell in love with the place and also for the first time made some money from the sale of my Penguin pictures. It was not a lot but covered the cost of my film and processing. I was also short listed for a couple of National photographic competitions.

  Shelley was delighted to see me on my return but I could see that she had been spoilt and there was a little bit of apprehension when she got into my car. I am glad to say that was the only time I put her into kennels.

  Back at the flat it was not long before it was a return to normal. I had missed the lifeboat and my friends and I expect I bored them rigid with my holiday stories and pictures. I ended up making a nice slide presentation out of the trip and gave some lectures to local societies and residential homes. When I went to the Falklands it was a new tourist spot. Sadly now it has become a lot busier with cruise ships stopping off. A great pity but I hope it will not be spoilt and the wonderful wild life will not be affected.

  I went there in February there which was their summer which was of course the winter in the UK. It was not long though before the routine of work took over and I was off visiting my clients across the UK. Shelley loved to be back in the car whilst I gave her a few more walks than normal due to a slight weight increase at the kennel. Sadly they didn’t walk her like I did so I think she appreciated the extra time out on the beaches. I always kept her on the beaches after the time she got lost in the woods when she was a lot younger. She was always popping her little head up to see if I was around and I likewise would call her if she wandered too far.

  I went to the Isle of Wight on business for a couple of days and took her over on the ferry – she loved that. I had booked in at a very nice up-market hotel near Cowes. I always remember the owner would come into the bar each evening and insist on reading the menu to every guest as though he were a Shakespearian actor. He did it with such zest and was so proud of its contents, recommending every dish.

  I took Shelley out most evenings for a walk and on the first night I went around the back of the hotel by the open swimming pool which was covered with a green tarpaulin. Before I knew it Shelley had jumped onto it. I did not realise that it was not tied down to the sides and within a few seconds the tarpaulin began to sink wrapping itself around Shelley taking her with it under the water.

  I yelled and ran towards the hotel and one of the staff went to the nearby shed and got a pole pulling the cover towards one end of the pool. Shelley had enough sense to realise what was happening and beat a hasty retreat to the other end and up the pool steps to join us. It was the first time I had ever seen her genuinely frightened and up-set. She never went anywhere near it again during out stay and the owner insisted on buying me Gin and Tonics for the duration of my visit and feeding Shelley on some rather special kitchen titbits. Sometimes things that go wrong do bring advantages; why not!

  The island had several lifeboat stations and I managed to get to visit most of them. Bembridge was very much like ours at Shoreham with a slipway whilst the Yarmouth one had a water based boat which was a lot faster and more powerful called an Arun type. As usual both of us were made very welcome. I did not realise it at the time but Chris and Mike Fox used to go there a lot and had established a relationship with the landlady of the crew’s local in Yarmouth often staying there. They kept than one quiet!

  End of Chapter Seventeen

  DOG SHOW AND CHRISTMAS ROTARY – CHAPTER 18

  Shelley was never a dog that required attention for the sake of it. To her it had to be given the way it was intended – genuine and with feeling. This was the proven case when a dog show was held to raise funds for the RNLI at the Lighthouse Club which was situated next to the boathouse.

  The Lighthouse Club was not a favourite haunt of mine but sometimes the then manager did support us at the Lifeboat and gave the premises to us free for functions. It proved to be an ideal venue with its nice concrete patio area in the front, overlooking the sea where the show could be held. The club provided a bar open all day and also some sandwiches with help from the crews wives. Most lifeboat stations could not survive without the support of the wives and they are the backbone of every station in the country. Mind you they also have a controlling influence over their men folk knowing that they can sometimes wander off the straight and narrow.

  The show was organised by the local branch of the RNLI and linked to a local dog society. On the day it was to be held the weather was great and lots of people turned up with their dogs. The crew helped out and prepared the event along with local branch members. I must admit I was a little surprised when I saw tables being set up and some very doggy type people walking around. From our point of view the bar stayed open all afternoon which was a bonus.

  I joined the queue to register Shelley and I had brought another dog along called Danny who was a Bichon Frise. He belonged to a friend of mine Brenda Burns whom I had met a few months earlier. Brenda was a widow and had moved into Shoreham from Hove and I was introduced to her at the Schooner at Southwick. Over many years we were to remain close friends spending a lot of time together. Brenda was away for the weekend so I had agreed to take Danny out for the day. Both Shelley and Danny got on well so there were no problems on that front.

  Once I got to the registration table I was asked if both were Kennel Club Registered and had they entered any competitions before and won any regional heats. I was then given a number and told to wait my turn to show them. I decided to give Danny to Chris Fox who was only too pleased to help out. If you don’t know what a Bichon Frise is, the easiest way to describe it is that it looks like a white bundle of fluff that has four legs and makes people either say ‘what a cute dog it is’ or directly opposite ‘what on earth is that!’

  After a while I was called and proceeded to take Shelley around in a circle with other dogs and Chris followed with Danny. All seemed fine until Shelley decided she wanted to have a sniff at the dog in front and this was then followed by Danny yapping at high level. The lady in front turned to me saying, “Can’t you keep your dog under control do you realise I have driven all the way from Newcastle so my dog’s can get approved for Crufts.” I frankly was stunned as I assumed I was at a small local dog show raising funds for the RNLI.

  “Bring your dog here” said a gentleman from behind a table. Putting her on the table in front of this arrogant looking man in a pin stripped suit he started to prod her from top to toe followed by a mini veterinary examination finally holding her tail up along with her head whilst two other judges looked at her. I was then told “She is fine but has no potential as a showing dog and looks a little thin,” to which I replied she eats more than most and as far as I am concerned is what a good dog should look like.”

  Poor Chris got the next instalment of his gruff nature. “Not what a Bichon should look like; his coat is not trimmed properly and his eyes are not clean. If you want this to be a showing dog then you have a long way to go!” That was it! We had taken enough insults for one day removing both dogs from the competition. I then had a wander around only to see a lot of dogs sitting in their cars having a nice grooming and given the full works from their owners. I asked one what was going on and was told that this is a good way for dogs to get up the step ladder towards entry for Crufts. The more regional competitions they win the more chance they have, that’s why they were bringing them along to events like ours.

  We were slightly confused to say the least. It was meant to be a charity show but somehow had got itself listed as a regional event by the Kennel Club. The afternoon turned out to be a real riot as more and more people turned up having driven from all over the country. Talk about dogs looking like their owners and visa versa. I think there was more infighting from those that had entered and the dogs were snapping at each other resulting with some arguments amongst their owners.

&nb
sp; The highlight of the day was the presentation of awards and the waffle that accompanied it. There was no love lost at all. I could not resist it and let Shelley off the lead who went into the water at the foot of the slipway and returned with a large stick and proceed to run amongst the owners soaking them at the same time followed by her pal Danny snapping at her tail to a loud round of applause from the lifeboat team. Needless to say no other dog shows were held there again and I looked at Crufts in a totally different perspective from then on!

  Chris and his brother Mike had been in the crew for a long time as had many others. It was often a tradition that sons followed fathers on a lifeboat. Their mother Pearl became a great friend to me and eventually married the then head launcher Bill Owen following the death of her husband who was at that time the lifeboat coxswain Johnny Fox.

  Living alone meant that sometimes Christmas was often a sad time for me and for several years they had me around for Christmas lunch.

  We would all meet in the Royal Sovereign for a drink on Christmas morning then Bill would take us back to Crown Road where they lived. Shelley was always invited and spoilt even being given a Christmas hat and ribbon to wear with a bell. Before Bill married Pearl he had lived alone for many years and found like me that a dog was wonderful company.