Shelley the Lifeboat Labrador (23 page)

I still wonder who he was. I have spoken to several of my service friends about it and they could understand his views and why he did it.  He was just lonely and need some good company to break his long journey. As the saying goes “Right place at the right time.”

Shelley was just one of those dogs that attracted a lot of attention giving out some friendly vibes in the process – that’s what so nice about her!

End of Chapter Thirty

NORTH NORFOLK AND DESOLATE BEACHES – CHAPTER – 31

There is something very special about the East Coast. In Suffolk and Norfolk and across the Lincolnshire Fens there is often a ghostly and eerie feel to the flat and barren countryside. The winters can be bitterly cold due to the strong Easterly winds blowing in off the North Sea and the trees often stand out alone in the dark rich soil of the fen farmlands.  The roads seem to go on and on for miles in straight lines, cut into deep trenches with fenland dykes on either side.  These would merge at the top with colourful skies that Constable enjoyed painting so much.

Any return to visit this part of the England was, so far as I was concerned an opportunity not to be missed.  Shelley was beginning to show signs of her age now and I wanted to show her once again the countryside that meant so much to her when she was a lot younger.  As it happened I had some calls to make around Kings Lynn and decided to take a couple of days off with her and visit some of the places that were special to us both.

Kings Lynn is a typical Market Town and the key reason I went there was to visit a certain butcher who made some of the best pork pies I had ever had the privilege of eating.  Since childhood I have loved the traditional Lincolnshire Sausage and Haslet alongside the pork pies of the region.  They were special and had a taste that could not be matched anywhere else.  Butchers across the country copied them but the taste to me was never the same. I had come across this butcher by accident the first time several years ago when the owner seeing Shelley kindly gave me a nice beef bone for her to take away.  Surprise; the same thing happened again and she went away as pleased as punch holding this nice juicy bone in her mouth.

We drove on out of the town along the North Norfolk Coast heading towards Holkham Hall which is set in 25,000 acres of farmland and owned by Viscount Coke (The Earl and Countess of Leicester). Always a favourite spot of mine; we parked up by the large lake where I enjoyed my pork pie.     

Shelley sat by my car door chewing her bone whilst looking at the deer in the distance – she always had good eyesight.  Locking the car up we went for a walk around the park and beside the lake this time keeping her on the lead as the last thing I wanted her to do was jump into it, as we had to drive to Blakeney where we were staying the night.  At Holkham they sell some terrific ice creams so one of those was certainly on my list before we set off up the long drive out of the estate.  The grandeur of Holkham Hall is best shown up by the park surrounding it making it one of the most beautiful stately homes in this country.

At Blakeney we checked into the hotel which was going to be our base for two days.  Situated just off the small harbour it was ideal and the room was very comfortable.  There are plenty of walks around the area including lots of marshland. In the distance one can see the Blakeney Point that allows the boats out into the North Sea.

Each day at certain tide times there are trips out from the harbour to see the seals at the point. I booked a trip and the owner had no problems in allowing Shelley on board.  Knowing her love of the water I held onto her tightly and she spent the forty minutes there looking over the side of the boat whilst getting the odd pat or stroke from others on board.

Once at the point we disembarked and made our way to the old lifeboat house where we had some tea.  Afterwards we walked together along the shoreline and towards the beaches that had the seals, taking care not to disturb them.  Shelley seemed very content and happy making the most of the beautiful weather.  It was as though she was very much as peace with herself and treasuring these moments with me.  The time came for the trip back in the boat, settling down next to three children she met on the beach who made a real fuss of her with one even offering her some chocolate.                                                   

That evening we went to a nice local where we made some new friends and Shelley fell asleep in front of an open log fire.  Although it was autumn the evenings did chill – more so in Norfolk than elsewhere with the bracing Easterly winds.  The landlord amused me as it seemed that he was topping up his glass every few minutes throughout the evening and getting rather inebriated.  He was in a world of his own.  

Next day we set off to Wells to get some cockles (always a favourite of mine) only to return back to the car to find I had been given a parking ticket.  Seeing the warden in the distance I tried the little boy lost act but that did not work.  When I got back home I sent a letter to the harbour master who issued it and because I was RNLI he waved it. (Power to the people)

The Wells lifeboat was situated out on the sands in the distance and had two launch sites, one from each end of the boathouse onto the beach.  Launching there involved a tractor as the tides could be very low indeed.  I recall seeing a great photograph that was taken for the RNLI of this site.  The crews and the coastguard teams were all standing around the boathouse along with other rescue services.  This sold very well.

Shelley was made welcome by the mechanic who was on duty and I was given a nice cup of warm tea whilst we chatted about the different stations. If there is something very appealing about Wells it is the way the forests come down to the beaches and then the miles of barren sand that stretch along the length of the coast.  Sometimes you can be the only person there if it is the right time of day.  The crew was made up by local fishermen and others that can get to the station most times of the day. It has been know sometimes, when there is a shout that the lifeboat will stop at a fishing boat out at sea to collect a crew member when passing.

In the summer the area gets very busy indeed with holiday makers and there are also a lot of caravan sites situated along the nearby coast. Shelley and I made our way along the sands for a short walk and I let her off the lead but she did not want to go to far staying close to me.  It was as though she wanted to tell me something that she was happy just spending her time with me.  I was aware she was not getting any younger and since she had the operation she was not as sprightly as she had been in the past.  When one is attached to a dog as I was any slight change in mannerism was noticeable.  It was the same with me if I felt low or depressed she noticed it and gave me more attention than normal.

We had another night at the hotel and drove out that evening to a pub called ‘The Lord Nelson’.  I had heard about it before as it was featured on a television programme.  The landlord was a bit of a character and had kept the pub the way it had been for many years.  No beer pumps just good bitter straight from the barrel.  His till was his apron pocket where he kept his change.  The interior of the pub was basic with the walls covered by Lord Nelson memorabilia and pictures of HMS Victory. He was a wonderful conversationalist and was steeped in local knowledge.  He made such a big fuss of Shelley bringing her one dog biscuit after another. I told him about her crisp trick and back he came with a packet, as expected she did it to her high standard leaving three pieces of wrapping on the floor.

A gentleman came up to me asking if I had lived in Southwold.  He was one of the regional agricultural representatives for a well established animal feed company.  He referred to the situation each year where Jack (the farmer) would arrange to take several off us to the London Smithfield Show.  The idea was a day out with the lads which was planned well in advance.

It commenced with pleasant train journey to London whilst enjoying a cooked breakfast and Brandy.  On arrival we would make our way to a nice Salt Beef sandwich bar by Leicester Square where we would be met by some of Jacks friends.  They provided us with carrier bags which contained literature from Smithfield.  We would then all go to Simpson’s for a long lunch followed by an “interesting” visit to a well established strip club in Soho before returning back to Southwold with drinks in the Swan.

We were always under the impression that we had managed to get away with this regular jaunt keeping our ulterior motives from our relevant partners.  Alas unbeknown to us they knew all the time what we were up to including our non visit to Smithfield. This was confirmed to me this evening for the first time in the Lord Nelson.  A small world which proves life can catch up with those that have a guilty conscience.  

We both stayed there for a several hours much to the delight of Shelley. It reminded me of a pub near Orford in Suffolk called the ‘Oyster Inn’ that was run by two sisters.  The bar was just a basic room and when it rained the locals even bought their bicycles in to keep them dry.  You were served your dinks from their own parlour at the back and I swear to this day that they never measured the quantity of the Gin they put in a G and T.  The later you stayed the larger the drink became.  I remember also going to spend a penny to find a new toilet was being built but as it had not been finished it was just a hole in the ground surrounded by a brick wall without any roof.  Those were the days.

At the Nelson the landlord seemed to enjoy his drink as much as the customer and time was of no importance. He opened the pub when he wanted to and closed it when he wanted to.  As for the measures in the glasses, they seemed to vary, and along with his occasional removal of your beer mug only to return it topped up, he was, indeed a splendid fellow!  When it came to driving back things were a little hazy but with Shelley licking my neck from time to time we made it back before closing time.

The next morning as I went into breakfast several of the residents were looking at me in a very odd manor; to be truthful I did not feel too good either. When I went to pay my bill I asked if there had been any problems only to be told that both Shelley and I fell asleep on the stairs up to our room and with a little assistance from the manager and his wife made it to bed.  I wondered why I had my socks on when I woke up.  We all parted good friends with a welcome back invite any time we wanted.  On checking my wallet when we stopped for a coffee (one of many) I realised just how good the night had been.                                                                                                       

We got back to Shoreham, feeling no better and decided an early night was required. It was most odd that it took several days to get back to normal and I have a feeling that the bitter at the Nelson was stronger than I anticipated.  I had not had a hangover like this for many a year.  Shelley being the caring dog that she was came up to me from time to time reminding me that I still had to feed her, however sorry I felt for myself.

On reflection it was a wonderful break and it gave us time to share moments that were going to be very precious over the next few months. I think we both new that our time together was starting to draw to a close.                      

End of Chapter Thirty One

THE QUALITY OF LIFE IS STILL THERE – Chapter 32

I first noticed a change in Shelley whilst returning from work one evening – she was not that keen to get out of the car and I had to help her. At the bottom of the stairs she just sat there and did not follow me up.  I went down and tried to help her but she did not want to know.  In the end I had to carry her up to the front door.

All was fine, she went in and had some water settling down on her bed for the evening and ate all her food.  The problem was when she wanted to go out for her little evening walk. All was okay when it came to going down the stairs and for the walk around the block to spend a penny.  On her return the same thing happened again and I had to carry her up.  I had a good look at her legs and all seemed fine.

In the morning we once again set off to work driving along the coast to Portsmouth to visit The Royal Navy Hospital, at Haslar.  We had both had some great times there over the years and the operating theatre team knew her well.  Sometimes if we timed it right we were invited into the chief’s mess for a drink.  Shelley was not officially allowed in but somehow she seemed to get invited into the back of the kitchens for a bit of TLC and a few nice prime bits of steak.  The theatre technician Bob Howard and a Chief Petty Officer Winn Jones became very supportive to us and helped me meet many senior surgical staff on my visits where I was able to promote the products I sold. 

From time to time we also went to functions at the mess and stayed over for the night at a local hotel in Alverstoke. I remember my sales manager Keith joining me for one function.  The owner of the hotel ran a furniture manufacturing business as well.  He had put a lot of money into the Georgian styled property and it had become very popular with officers from the Royal Navy.  Shelley was also accepted by the staff. The hotel had an old fashioned lift which she loved!