Public are the ones to blame
Western Daily Press writer Chris Rundle says criticism of the RNLI for not staffing beaches with lifeguards at this time is unfair and very wide of the mark
TWO drownings were recorded in Cornwall at the weekend as with shrieks of relief the nation threw off the shackles of lockdown and headed for the beaches.
This was followed almost immediately by accusatory fingers being pointed at the RNLI for not preventing them.
But setting aside the fact that the incident involving a teenage girl happened at Wadebridge, where no lifeguards are routinely stationed, the RNLI had had no more warning than anyone else that Britons were going to be cleared for take-off to the seaside.
It had had no opportunity, therefore, to train its seasonal lifeguards (co-funded with local authorities) in how to protect themselves against the threat of infection – and a very real threat considering the close contact with casualties sea rescues usually involve – before stationing them on the relatively few beaches where permanent cover is provided.
Its 200-plus volunteer lifeboat crews, however, were on duty as they always are and responded to numerous emergency calls over the weekend.
But rather than asking why more was not done to prevent the unnecessary loss of two lives, those commentators who have rounded so bitterly on the RNLI should instead be asking themselves why people continue to put themselves in danger in or on the sea.
I spent 20 years in the lifeboat service. I was involved in scores of rescues. In the RNLI you are trained never to be judgmental about anyone or any set of circumstances. But it must be said that the majority of incidents I was involved in arose not as a result of routine problems such as engine or equipment failures, or accidental injuries, but through individuals’ recklessness in putting themselves in danger.
The sea isn’t a playground. It’s a hostile, unforgiving environment. It needs to be respected if it is to be enjoyed safely.
But each year thousands of us – in an average year the RNLI will rescue around 9,000 people – take to it without the proper equipment, knowledge or physical ability to cope with the conditions.
Very occasionally the outcome can be amusing, as in the case of the four men we encountered one morning aboard a cabin cruiser heading eastwards along the Exmoor coast and who hailed us and asked us how far it was to Newport – the Pembrokeshire one.
When we told them it was in the opposite direction and on the opposite coast they refused to believe us. It turned out they had bought the boat, which had neither radio nor compass, in Ilfracombe the previous day and had planned to motor home to Pembrokeshire overnight. Local fishermen tried to dissuade them but when they persisted, advised them to head for Lundy Island, sail up the west side, and stay on that course until they encountered land and then turn left.
But by the time they arrived at Lundy night had pretty much fallen. In the dark they hugged the coast up the west side, around the north end, down the east side and headed back to the (North Devon) coast where they accordingly turned left. Which is how they came to be looking for Newport off the Somerset coast – the fact that the sun had risen in front of them not, apparently, having registered.
But there are all too few fortunate outcomes like this. And far too may bitterly tragic ones. Such as the nineyear old we failed to reach in time after his inflatable capsized in conditions his parents should never have allowed him to go out in.
Or the brothers – neither wearing a lifejacket – who failed to pay out enough anchor line while fishing at night from a tiny dinghy and who were pitched into the water as the tide rose and their boat was pulled under the surface.
And just for a moment put yourself in the place of the lifeboat crew who recovered the still-anchored boat and were carrying it up the beach just as the police had unthinkingly decided to bring the lads’ mother down to the point where they had launched.
Yes: it’s all too easy to blame the rescuers when things go wrong. But in so many cases the real blame lies with the casualties.
The RNLI is a charity which receives no Government support and needs to raise around £160 million a year –that’s around £3 million a week – to maintain its 238 lifeboat stations and its 300-strong fleet of the finest lifeboats in the world. Coronavirus has dealt such a blow to fundraising that this year it is facing a £41 million budget shortfall.
Its crews are all volunteers, many with little or no previous sea-going experience, who are trained to the highest professional standards before being allowed to take part in rescue missions, many of which involve them putting their own lives on the line. All are on 24-hour call. Summoned by pagers from home or work, they can be at sea and speeding to a rescue within a few minutes.
They don’t ask for any thanks – and frequently don’t get any – for the rescues they perform or for the huge sacrifices they make in terms of time spent training or on rescues. It’s enough of a reward to enjoy the camaraderie, the satisfaction of a mission accomplished – and perhaps a life saved – and the privilege of belonging to an organisation which has been saving lives at sea for nearly 200 years.
But – and this is the crux of the matter – even with the best and safest boats, the best equipment, the best protective kit and the best training offered by any lifeboat service in the world they cannot guarantee the total safety of every individual who heads for the beaches and the coastal waters around these islands.
Particularly if those individuals fail to understand that even on a perfect beach day like today danger is never that far away.