With huge numbers of visitors expected in the south west for the solar eclipse on 11 August the RNLI and the other emergency services had their contingency plans in place… Mike Floyd watched events unfold at the Coastguard MRCC at Falmouth Just a minute or two before the shadow of the moon swept across Falmouth Roads we stood outside the Falmouth Coastguard MRCC wondering aloud why so many thousands of people had trekked to the south west to experience this darkening of a leaden, rain-spotting sky. Why, we wondered, had almost 10,000 small boats put to sea to place themselves in the path of 'totality' as it raced eastward across the earth at more than I.SOOmph? Was it for this, a thunderstorm-like darkening of the sky, we wondered that so many people had flocked to the south west peninsular and so many small boats were expected to be at sea that the Coastguard had spent years planning its coverage, that police had been drafted in from neighbouring counties and that the RNLI had sent its two training lifeboats to sea to stand-by well offshore where the track of totality began to peel away to the south and in to the Channel.

The previous day the Coastguard had confirmed that every marina in the area was full to capacity and that yachts were being allowed to 'raft-up' four abreast to squeeze in even more.

There wasn't a room to be had in Falmouth, and traffic still poured in to the area.

And yet the computer screen recording Coastguard operations remained strangely quiet. Falmouth's Severn was at sea, attending to a yacht with an exhausted crew, but that was hardly an eclipserelated incident. As the tide turned and began to flood the screen showed a couple of 'cut off by the tides', but nothing more than would be expected in a busy, school-holiday week in high Summer.

Precautions The forecast was for heavily overcast skies in Cornwall, which were expected to thin things out a little in the far west and put pressure on Torbay, where the forecasters were a little more optimistic in their cloud forecasts.

Since no one had any experience of anything like this, no-one really knew what to expect. But with so many people crammed into such a small area and with so many boats likely to go to sea precautions had to be taken. The RNLI's plans were in place, braced for the worst, and yet the Coastguard screens still stayed quiet. Was this the lull before the storm, or would there be no storm? Eclipse day dawned bright, but the forecasts were right and soon heavy swathes of cloud rolled in, blocking out the sun in a much more familiar way. Falmouth's Severn and Atlantic put to sea at 0930, and from the Coastguard station we watched them thread their way through the stream of outgoing yachts and motorboats, taking up position right on the centreline of totality ready for whatever might happen.

Along the coast to the west Sennen Cove's Mersey was lying afloat on a mooring, as the very low tide overnight could have restricted her slipway launching. On the north Cornwall coast Padstow's slipway launched Tyne was also at sea, out over the shallow bar and ready for the events of the day. To the east Exmouth's Trent had put to sea and crossed the bar there, to be ready for whatever might happen.

Further east still Weymouth's Arun had taken up station off Portland Bill, where the track of totality passed about three miles offshore, and there were fears that the unknowing might head for the spot unaware of the perils of the Portland Race. The station's Atlantic waited in Portland harbour, ready to pounce.

The crew of Swanage's Mersey and D class were standing by in the boathouse, fearful that traffic congestion could otherwise delay their launching. Poole's Atlantic crew did likewise, while their Brede left the confines of the harbour to wait in the open waters of Poole Bay.

Offshore the training Arun waited in the area of totality 23 miles to the south of St Aldhelm's Head, and the training Severn positioned herself five miles south of the Eddystone light.

By mid-morning Coastguard estimates put the number of small boats at sea along the south coast at between 6,000 and 10,000 - some 2,000 south of Portland Bill, 1,000 south of Poole and the rest scattered along the coast to the west.

And still the screens stayed quiet.

Totality Suddenly, in the overcast gloom at Falmouth Coastguard the watchers' no-hum attitude changed.

The clouds blackened in the west and, as if a giant hand had reached for the dimmer switch, the last of the light disappeared; there was a gust of wind and a second's awed silence from the crowds on Pendennis Point before the cheers began and camera flashes speckled the darkness.

The lights of the hundreds of boats at sea came to life as if connected to the same dimmer switch and as the wind died so did the crowd's murmuring. We stood in fascination as the seagulls began a confused mewing and, still confused, stopped. Two minutes and five seconds later the sea turned green again from the west as the light swept across Falmouth Roads and the dimmer switch was turned up as we watched the back of the moon's shadow darkening the clouds to the east.

It had been an eerie, awe-inspiring few minutes, and we now knew why so many people had gone to such lengths to ensure they were inside the area of complete totality.

Inside the MRCC the incident screens still glowed passively - a medivac from a cruise liner at 0900 still topping the list. We watched as hundreds of boats returned to Falmouth Harbour, and waited for the calls.

Nothing. Phone calls to Brixham and Portland Coastguard brought the same response - a very quiet day, thank you.

Still we waited. There were thousands of people on the cliffs making their way home and thousands of boats with a two-hour passage back to base. Still nothing. By mid-afternoon it was obvious that all of the warnings had been heeded and that common sense had ruled. Remarkable as it may seem eclipse day turned out to be no busier than a normal summer's day for the marine rescue services.

A broken down speed boat had needed a short tow in Falmouth; Poole had escorted a cruiser ashore when a passenger slipped and injured her back; one of the training lifeboats had looked at a dismasted yacht which was making its own way home and the other had stopped off at a couple of minor incidents.

No one regrets the effort which went in to the planning, nor putting the boats in position and on stand-by. Better by far that they were there and not needed than the other way round..