RIDING LIFE
Achance encounter introduced Martin Hughes-games to a truly unusual motorcycle enthusiast, and the opportunity to admire some automotive history...
A chance encounter introduced Martin Hugheshere Games to a truly unusual motorcycle enthusiast, and the opportunity to admire some automotive history...
Have you ever gone to the classic bike gathering in Castletown during the Classic TT? There's always a good selection of interesting bikes to pore over in a quietly convivial atmosphere. My friend Tom and I were pottering around, back in 2012. This would have unexpected consequences.
Suddenly the gentle hum of conversation was shattered by a fantastic sound, a series of deafening reports heralding the startup of a very large unsilenced motorcycle. Eventually the reports melded together into a great wall of thunderous noise. A huge V twin of some sort but what, exactly? The crowd surged forward to surround this apparition, so it took a while for Tom and I to get close enough to see what all the fuss was about. We got to the front eventually and there it was: a fabulous light grey Brough Superior. The unsilenced exhausts, dropped handlebars and a beautifully crafted leather chest rest on the tank identified it as some sort of (replica?) record breaker. The sound was magnificent, battering your chest, a glorious celebration of the internal combustion engine.
Eventually the din subsided and I found myself standing next to quite a small man,
but clearly an enthusiast.
'Wow; I gasped, 'what a fantastic machine!' 'Yes, it is rather nice, isn't it?'said the small man in a quiet voice. There was something about the way he said this that raised my suspicions.
'I say, it's not yours, is it?'
'Well yes actually it is:
Our conversation was cut short by another motorcycle being started up, a howling four this time, a very pretty and exotic racing MV. We stood together to enjoy the delightful cacophony. Finally the MV stopped and silence descended. I turned to the small man and said, only slightly sycophantically, 'Well, that's lovely, but MVS are two a penny compared to your Brough:
To my surprise he looked a little crestfallen. 'I say; I muttered. It's not your MV as well, is it?'
'Well, actually, yes it is!'
Despite my horrid gaffe he laughed and asked if I'd like to sit on the Brough.
And that was my first, slightly bumpy, meeting with the extraordinary Robert White, one of the most remarkable motorcyclists I have ever had the good fortune to encounter. Tom and I helped Robert push his bikes into a waiting van and before he departed he invited down to his home in Poole, for genuine Manx kippers. Robert ran a very successful camera and optics business and we arranged to meet at one of his shops on a small industrial estate.
We parked and rang the bell. Things took a slightly James Bond turn. The door was opened by a very attractive, fit looking woman who ushered us in. I joked to Tom that she was probably a martial arts expert and worked as Robert's bodyguard. It later transpired that Heather was indeed a black belt Kung Fu expert, and was not only Robert's bodyguard but manager of music artist Gregory Porter as well! Clearly a woman of many parts, and not to be trifled with.
It soon became apparent that having Heather around was probably a very good idea, considering what was hidden at the back of the shop. After all, we could have been a couple of unscrupulous ne'er do wells. Robert met us looking, I thought, a bit frail. After warm greetings we meandered past the shop displays to a fairly nondescript door leading into a warehouse.
Tom and I walked through the door and were, frankly, struck dumb.
Not long before then, we'd been to a very exciting motorcycle auction where a Brough Superior had sold for very nearly £300,000 pounds, a record at the time. Suddenly we found ourselves looking down a line of gleaming black and nickel plated motorcycles, most of them Brough Superiors, although there were a couple ofvincents, too). We counted no less than 19 Broughs.
But that was just the start.
The Brough Superiors were on one side of the first warehouse. Along the other side were big multi cylinder racing MVS, an exquisite unrestored 125 racing MV, a green frame Ducati 750 sport, more Ducatis, Parilla, Gilera and some lovely old pre unit Triumphs. The parade of breathtaking machines just went on and on and on. And this was just the first of Robert's warehouses. There was more!
In the next warehouse was a brace of brand new, unused HP BMWS, a number of perfect American four cylinder bikes (Hendersons and the like), an Indian or two, some fabulous cars, a White steam car, it just went on.
We were feeling a bit dazed. Robert suggested we should meet his friend for a cup of tea. This was Tony, the friend who kept finding Broughs for Robert to buy (and if Robert wasn't interested in the next Brough then perhaps Tony would buy it but would Robert mind lending him the money... just for the moment?).
We set off to Tony's modest house for the cup of tea, but the revelations were not yet over. More Broughs were wheeled out, including XX7 646 widely acknowledged to be TE Lawrence's first Brough, which he called George IV. To my shame, I did not realise Tony Cripps was a master craftsman, the restorer of some 80 Broughs.
He offered me the chance to ride one, a once in a lifetime opportunity. The huge engine thundered to life and I climbed aboard. I began to paddle down the drive toward the road. Tony leaned over; 'Err... you can ride a motorcycle, can you?' I reassured him that I could.
I didn't get far out of first gear. That vast engine gathered itself, the individual pulses coalesced; it was like an unstoppable shove in the small of the back but then a misfire crept in. I limped back to Tony and an apparently completely unconcerned Robert. We returned to Robert's house for the promised Manx kippers. There were more bikes everywhere; some of Robert's favourites, beautiful little Italian racers, on
the landing, in the front room, everywhere.
Later, when we recounted this experience to our biking friends it stimulated vigorous debate about the mentality of collectors and collections generally. It's a strange affliction that so many of us suffer (Tom and I included), but not quite on the fabulous scale that Robert did.
Soon after this extraordinary visit we discovered Robert was very ill. As the cancer began to attack his body he became more philosophical, but his passion for motoring exotica did not dim as you can see from this thought provoking email:
'This illness has made me realise that I wasted so many years tending to the business. It has made me a fair bit of money but life has vanished, without a family the money is wasted if I die. That I guess is why I am treating myself to things in the past I would have talked myselfout of.. .'
I'm glad to say that not only did Robert find many of his dream machines, he was able to ride and drive them before he became too ill. Sadly, this remarkable man passed away a couple of years later. One of his main concerns was the preservation of his beloved Broughs. He passionately wanted them to be kept together as a collection.
'I've seen too many collections passed on to museums but then broken up and sold piecemeal when the money gets a bit tight:
But who could possibly have the wherewithal to purchase such an incredible piece of motorcycling history? Apparently, there were just two people in the frame, a very famous pop star and Jay Leno in the USA. Eventually Jay Leno did buy the collection and Heather sent me some pictures of how he has displayed the bikes. I think Robert would be extremely pleased. It's beautifully done.
Robert's collection of bikes, cars and watches were sold at auction. Tom went to the sale and bumped into John Surtees who explained that he had once raced the slightly battered and unrestored 125cc MV that we had admired so much. Amongst other generous legacies Robert left £1 0million to fund a new oncology unit, the Robert White Cancer Centre, which opened in 2018 and will help thousands of cancer patients over years to come.
I feel very blessed to have met this remarkable man.