Fair's Fair

Today was a red-letter day! Not just because the sun shone but also because it was the local RNLI Fair.

Now, I don't know about you but I am the eternal optimist when it comes to local Fairs and Carnivals. I know it's going to be boring because it is every other year but I still wander down there - ever hopeful of an amazing transformation. This year's Lifeboat Fair had an added attraction insofar as I knew the people running the beer tent so off I went. The girls behind the bar greeted me warmly and quickly briefed me on the stalls to visit. Well, I say "briefed" me: it was more "There's a hog roast over there but the rest is the usual crap". I thanked them and dutifully queued for my pig roll (a reward for losing over a stone in the last 4 weeks - it's only a 9 pack now). Then it was off for the grand tour. Oh the joys of the Treasure Map, the ecstasies of the 5 different tombolas offering knitted loo roll covers, scented drawer liners etc., the excitement of the Hook a Duck stall. My world was suddenly transformed into a mini Vegas. I got to the obligatory Police car swarming with kids and the officer decided to sound his siren. There was a lady clutching her Zimmer beside me and it made her jump so much she almost fell. I went to grab her and stopped, thinking she had recovered only to find she had rocked the other way. Once more I started towards her and once more she recovered and this went on for some considerable time. She was rather like a weeble insofar as she wobbled but just wouldn't fall down. Grinning ruefully at her I travelled on, tempted by the miniature train, tantalised by the Guess the Weight of the Lifeboat stall but remaining aloof until I had completed my circuit and arrived back at the beer tent.

At this point, the band started. Now, we have a marching band who are not too bad. It keeps the kids off the streets which is good but the down side is that they appear at every single function within a 10 mile radius. Massed glockenspiels playing the Theme from 633 Squadron is only exciting for the first 400 times but then it gets a bit tedious. I cursed my luck at this unfortunate timing but the girls told me this was about their fifth appearance of the afternoon!

I had missed the helicopter/lifeboat exercise by now but I was ever hopeful that the chopper was an Apache gunship and might yet reappear, blasting them off the face of the earth. No such luck.

I trudged back home having been out for exactly 43 minutes: once more, my optimism dented and disappointment etched across my face. Mrs B was far more sensible than me and stayed at home. She didn't need to ask how it was - but the hog roast was lovely!

Talking of lifeboats, I was lucky enough to blag a trip on it a couple of years back. It's the biggest class of lifeboat there is, exercising every Sunday morning and the Coxswain gave permission for me to come along. It was a chilly, blowy day and I was told that there was going to be an ashes scattering in the harbour mouth followed by their normal training exercise. Provided I looked as if I was up to the conditions whilst we were in the lee of the breakwater then I was OK to go with them.

There was a party of people gathered at the stern of the boat clutching a brown cardboard box as we set out and I (being a sensitive creature) went and sat in the wheelhouse whilst the ceremony took place. Ashes scattered, we turned round to drop off the mourners and I re-emerged. The lifeboat was covered in a fine powder and the mechanic whispered to me that they had scattered the ashes against the wind, covering both themselves and the boat.

When they disembarked, Frank the mechanic, who is a mean-looking guy, gently patted one little lad on the head. I said to him it appeared out of character and he explained that he was merely trying to get the brat's granddad out of his hair.

Anyway, I was told they were more than happy to take me out and off we went once more. Once we rounded the breakwater, we travelled along for a while and then they tossed this dummy overboard to simulate a body recovery.

I come from a long line of sailors and have absolutely no problems when the sea is lumpy but boy, this thing was rolling through a massive arc. One moment I was looking at the sky and then the sea as we rolled motionless whilst the guys did their stuff. Job completed, it was time for some fun! Twin V12 diesels equivalent to a 54,000 c.c. car engine opened up as we turned out to sea and and suddenly we were powering through the waves at 25 knots. Now that feeling alone was worth 100 visits to the Fair and I returned, wet but more excited than I ever thought possible. I've got a lot of time for the guys on the lifeboat. Normal men who literally risk their lives at a moment's notice to help others. Believe me, some of the stories they tell prove it's not all heroic rescues and swashbuckling action and when I saw the supply of body bags on board, this brought that brutal fact home in a big way. I take my hat off to them, every single one.