The Zetland Lifeboat

In all my thirty odd years of life I must have passed by the Zetland Lifeboat Museum thousands of times. I could spot the boat through the glass doors and I wouldn’t think much about it. It was just a boat – what’s the big deal? Then last year I saw an advertisement on Facebook doing the rounds –volunteers were wanted for a few hours a week, any age, no experience required – just a smile. I can smile! I thought, it would put these Crest whitening strips to good use. As a parent of a toddler my days fly by in a daze of nappy changing, cooking (sometimes five difference courses to entice the guy to eat – much of it he turns his nose up at – maybe I should invest in some cooking courses), and generally not being able to finish a thought never mind anything else. But I have Sundays free, and I was finding myself a bit lost as to what the hell to do with myself. Having been out of the loop of normal life since my Son was born I was hungering for some adult interaction that didn’t involve drinking and making a moron of myself.

The Advert that first enticed me through the doors of the museum.

So, the day after I saw this advert I was passing by the museum like I have done all those thousands of times, and I went in. A lovely lady called Brenda was there with another volunteer and when I said I was interested in volunteering they couldn’t have looked more pleased – even with my newly shaven head and leather jacket which made me look a bit yobo. The next Sunday I went in and walked around the museum. I had thought it was ‘just a boat’ – but found myself reading story after story about things I’d never known. There were suddenly real people I could imagine in the boat, thrashing through stormy seas to save hundreds of seafarers. Tales of shipwrecks and tragedies. I never knew we had a natural harbour here due to the rock formations, and that we were at one time planning to be a proper harbour for ships caught in storms on their way to the River Tees. I didn’t know of the young lady – Margaret Emmans – who came out  to help pull the boat in the middle of the night and ended up getting tripped over by a man in front, and killed by the wheel of the boat carriage going over her head! On one occasion 52 people were on that boat, rowing through massive waves  -How the hell a wooden boat carried that many people and how it got back to shore through the sheer will of the lifeboat crew says everything, really. With each new story I stood back and looked at the Zetland lifeboat again, seeing it through new eyes and with new appreciation.

The Zetland and her crew posing for a picture on the beach.

This boat was the vessel that saved over 500 lives! Not just a number. Each person had a mother and father, siblings, friends, children. Such an impact –  just imagine someone you love being caught out there and their ship going under? These lifeboat men dropped everything to get to the lifeboat, haul it out in the most horrific conditions, putting their own lives aside to focus on saving a stranger caught out there. Just amazing.

When I’m at the museum on a Sunday now, I stand at the door sometimes and imagine (I do a lot of imagining – I really could do with a pipe) the old wooden boats – schooners and barques (I didn’t know anything about ships until I started volunteering) on the horizon. I also didn’t know that there was such a thing as a rocket brigade – Coastguards who would shoot out a rope from a device to a distressed boat and then pull crew members in using a pulley system. The thing they had to wear in order to be pulled in is hanging in the museum – it looks like a pair of strong looking shorts. Imagine! Not only being shipwrecked and freezing and terrified, but then having to get into this pair of shorts and be pulled, while dangling across a stormy sea? Crazy! And we think we’ve got it hard!

The Shorts! – If anyone can tell me more about how this whole thing works I’d be very grateful.

Each time I go in to the museum there is something new to discover, and I can’t get enough of it. Me, the person who got a certificate for going to school for a full week. Upstairs in the museum is just as fascinating. All the old pictures and snippets of stories of the characters that played such an important role in the town. Some of these old lifeboat men and fishermen had nicknames which tell a story all of their own. There is even a room which has been made to look like the inside of an old fisherman’s cottage. (I’m dying to get behind the glass screen and see what the old books on the shelves are about, and to sit on the rocking chair and pretend I was really there).

I feel ashamed that I walked past this place so many times and thought nothing of it. How much I would have missed out on had I not gone in. I feel a new sense of pride in Redcar and a thirst to know more about our ancestors. The older volunteers know so much, stories they’ve lived through or stories passed down from their own relatives – and I would hate for this to be lost. I was nervous about mixing with all of these new people at first, but I was welcomed straight away and many of them have become friends. The conversation is always interesting and the stories you hear from visitors – many of them coming back here after years and reminiscing about their old family members are just as good. Someone always knows something about Redcar that you’ve never heard before – there’s still so much mystery, and even a few scandals – that’s the cool thing.  The picture of the town just gets more and more vivid.

I’m looking forward to the new season starting on April 8^th. I’ll have my Zetland Lifeboat Jumper on with pride – it does get a bit cold in there, but it all adds to the atmosphere. The building itself used to be home to one of the lifeboat crew, and I spend too long imagining them looking out of the window with a telescope. There are also some amazing paintings by Philip Boville (also a volunteer) which depict some of the Zetland Lifeboats heroic rescues. I’m hoping that someone buys me one for Christmas sometime (small hint). We even have our own musician – Stan Whalley – who has written and performed a song (and produced a CD – all proceeds go back into the museum which relies solely on donations) about William Guy – the only lifeboat crew member to have tragically lost his life during a rescue…and on Christmas Day. It’s a beautiful song.

Phil’s amazing painting -‘Hard on the Blue’.

Anyway, my point to writing this is: Don’t be an ignoramus like me. Go down to the museum and check it out for yourself. There are lots of new display boards going up ready for the new season and I’m excited to see them – the story of the two Redcar piers that were in competition, the motorbike and car racing that went on on the beach – there’s a shocking story of one man who was trying to do a record breaking long jump which would result in him flying through a hoop on his motorbike – but he plummeted head first to his death in front of a horrified crowd. These things actually happened – I think they are worth remembering.

If you like what you see in there, which I am positive you will then maybe you could consider volunteering yourself. I’ll be in on Sundays and am more than happy to talk anyone’s head off and give them a grand tour.

The museum are looking for new volunteers and I highly reccomend giving it a shot if you have some spare time.

Visit the museum website by clicking here.