THE SITE BEFORE THE SURF

"Of course you can come down to the boathouse, you can go out on the boat too". So said John Carter, honorary treasurer of Poole RNLI. We smiled and nodded enthusiastically, with bravado that didn't quite convince. "Will I be able to take pictures" enquired Tim. "Of course, we'll take two boats out and you can shoot one from the other". Tim whitened, and though he kept smiling, it was obvious his bravado had got up of its own accord, and left the meeting. There it found ours already waiting.

So it was that the intrepid designers of this web site, with barely a sea leg between us, ventured down to the boathouse at the end of Poole Quay, to gather sounds, sights and snippets of salacious sauciness to bring the concept of a website for Poole RNLI to the masterpiece you see before you (artistic licence! - Ed)

December 9th was a very cold day, but the crew was already kitted with the necessary equipment to cope with the elements - hot tea and freshly baked mince pies. We felt more at ease straight away, knowing how to operate both these vital tools, and started chatting about the history, the pictures on the walls, the stories. The camaraderie amongst the crew was evident and the banter flowed as freely as the tea.

We were split into two groups of three, with Tim., Dave and I accompanying coxswain Jon Clark and Mark Cole onto the All Weather Boat (AWB), a 47' Tyne Class. Tim photographed everything in sight whilst I furiously scribbled down what Jon and Mark were telling us about each piece of equipment. We were impressed. Very impressed. The navigation aids, the survivor aids, the training, the 20 hours of time each week voluntarily given up to all of this added up to a powerful package. Having thoroughly researched the AWB, we moved onto to the In Shore Boat (ILB), now in the cheery stewardship of chief helmsman Gavin McGuiness. Tim got to the ILB to find Dave and I already aboard, and as he jumped over the side of the inflatable, Gavin pulled a lever and it dropped a foot into the water. Gavin grinned, and we made a mental note to sail in the AWB. Once again, though the ILB only took three people, we were impressed with the on board equipment and the training required. Sitting upside down in the air pocket created by the capsized ILB, before climbing along the outside to the rear of the boat in order to right it, was fortunately off our agenda; but every crew member had been through it.

Next it was onto the bottom of the boathouse, where Anne Millman took us through kitting up. All the gear was pre-arranged to allow the fastest possible dress time, and it was during this talk that we had the nearest indication of the serious side. Throughout our visit, the radio had been on of course, and a breaking report meant that this drill might turn into the real thing. The mood changed - still cordial but now very business like as the crew descended from the restroom above to kit up very quickly. An update meant we could return to drill mode, and the mood relaxed, but we'd had a brief glimpse into the clinical efficiency that made this crew, the busiest in the UK, the best people you could possibly have wanted had it been the real thing.

We went out on the AWB with our cameras and sound recorders, taking photos and soundings of the ILB in action, witnessing the skill of the drivers (landlubber word) and listening to tales of the sea, of amazing bravery and of sabotage by a German U Boat (well it was a submerged Tesco's trolley actually - ask helmsman Gavin how to ding your props).

The morning was a great experience which we all thoroughly enjoyed, and as we talked amongst ourselves afterwards about the material we had gathered for the website and the different things we'd experienced, one common theme came out time and time again. The sheer professionalism of everyone we had met and everything we'd seen. The camaraderie was born of people knowing they were working in dangerous situations with people who knew exactly what they were doing. And they are good because they give a lot of their spare time, on a purely voluntary basis, every single week to make it that way. Remember that next time you see a fundraising flag day. I will.