VoIces Awe and wonder Garden designer Chris Beardshaw is passionate about the earth, the sea – and the RnLi, as Liz Cook fi nds out ‘What is your idea of Paradise?’ that is Chris’s question to everyone for whom he designs a garden. there is no ‘Beardshaw design’ to pick from a catalogue but instead a unique journey of exploration into the heart and mind of the person who will be experiencing that garden. ‘We look at textures, heights, colours. it’s orchestration for a personal space,’ explains Chris. ‘Putting outside what’s inside can mean bearing your soul.’ Quietly bursting with a deep passion, Chris is something of a paradox. He is known to millions as a tV presenter and top-fl ight Chelsea Flower show exhibitor, yet he is in constant awe of the very materials of his trade: soil, seed and plant. the near-magical transformation from modest, apparently inconsequential seed to majestic full-grown specimen is what has inspired him since the age of 4. then it was cress on the windowsill, today a cedar tree perhaps.

Chris is keen to share the joy of gardening with all. ‘i was so lucky to have met one or two people through my life who put their arm round my shoulder and encouraged me when i needed it,’ he remembers. ‘anyone can garden. Don’t think of it as a chore and don’t get angst ridden about it – just have a go!’ the beauty of all that nature can conjure is of course not restricted to land and, perhaps not so unexpectedly, Chris fi nds the same sense of wonder when scuba diving. ‘i’m not someone who dashes about underwater,’ he muses. ‘i can be in the same place for half an hour, looking at the life down there, trying to really see. it can be very meditative.’ there is an added edge to venturing below the water’s surface, though: ‘it is so deeply relaxing, yet you are also so out of your comfort zone. You are a visitor for just a moment, before you return to your own world. You must respect that status. i’ve seen diving accidents, so i avoid any risk that is beyond my capabilities.’ Chris explains his approach: ‘i have to step inward. it’s a bit like an athlete envisioning a race before they run. i become very conscious of every action i take underwater. Rational decision making is key – if the current suddenly picks up or the visibility drops, i need to get it right in a split second.’ Of course, Chris never dives alone: ‘Choose carefully who you dive with,’ he advises. ‘their personality underwater can be very different from on land! my buddy and i completely respect each other so if one feels uneasy about a dive the other will forego it immediately.’ many of Britain’s best diving locations are familiar to Chris, including Oban, the Orkneys, st abbs, Pembrokeshire, Lundy, the Lizard and Lyme Regis. His dive boat skippers are often former RnLi lifeboat crew members and he values their knowledge of the sea and locality.

‘if they say we’re not going out today, we’re not going out!’ he explains. ‘i’ve learnt not to “grab” a dive. it’s safer that way and the best ones can sometimes be the least expected.’ But Chris’s connection with the RnLi goes back much further. it was a lifeboat demonstration during a childhood holiday by the sea that caught his attention and admiration, something Chris maintains to this day. He promotes the RnLi on his website, is known to waive fees if a donation is made and often mentions the charity in media interviews. ‘if i’d grown up nearer the sea, i would have got involved directly, but living inland, this is what i can offer instead,’ says the 36-year-old. ‘i tell everyone how much the RnLi and its volunteers are worth supporting. i know it’s good to escape the bureaucracy and control of Government but i can’t rationalise the lack of established funding given the quality and importance of the service.’ ‘i live on the edge of the High Wold in Gloucestershire, just above tewkesbury and saw the work of the RnLi in the fl oods. We all need to think so much longer term. the fl ood plains are there for a reason! We need to work towards a cohesive and vibrant form of planning that encompasses population, industry, agriculture and nature.’ that would be Paradise indeed! Buy a rose for the RnLI Chris was ‘shocked and fl attered’ to be invited by the national Rose Society to put his name to one of the new 007 series of roses, pictured above: ‘The Rosa Chris Beardshaw, produced by C & K Jones, is big, pink, blousy and fragrant – not at all like me (!) but something just like I’d have seen standing in a vase on my grandmother’s kitchen table. It’s a hybrid tea, repeat-fl owering and quite self-sustaining rose, suitable for an informal style of garden.

‘I’m pleased to be passing £ .50 from the sale of each plant to the RnLI.’ email [email protected] or phone 018 9 740663. ‘i tell everyone how much the RnLi and its volunteers are worth supporting.’ The pull of the lifeboat Hannah Chittock tells how she came to join the RnLi ‘family’ When my husband Jon was a child, he and his friends would peer through the window of the old RnLi station in Lymington for a glimpse of the lifeboat and, behind it, a photograph that captured their young imaginations.

that black and white picture showed a lifeboat in flight over the waves of the solent. it was an image that encapsulated the selflessness and bravery of those who volunteer for the RnLi, and one that was extremely exciting for a young boy with a taste for adventure and a love of the water.

so, when Jon got offered a job at the Royal Lymington Yacht Club last year, back where he had learned to sail, he jumped at the chance. and as he would be working right next door to the lifeboat station, he became determined to volunteer for the RnLi.

the sea courses through my veins too. i was born in Liverpool to a family with strong maritime links and spent my early years on the north west coast, where the smell of the sea provided one of the strongest memories of my childhood.

Later we moved to north Yorkshire, and i have vivid recollections of visiting Whitby, Bridlington and scarborough and marvelling at the lifeboats i saw there and their volunteer crews, who braved the often grey and swirling waters of the north sea and the rough winds that battered the shore.

as adults, Jon and i have found ourselves back on the coast, despite a rather circuitous journey that included extensive travel for me as a freelance correspondent (including south america for the BBC) and Jon spending several years in the Parachute Regiment.

now, volunteering for the lifeboat provides Jon with that same essence of camaraderie that he enjoyed in the army and a ready-made group of good friends. since volunteering he has been driving the tractor to launch the atlantic RiB, but has recently been asked to join her crew – working and training alongside some of the people who were onboard the very boat in the picture that so inspired him. Beyond the station, the other young lifeboat crew families provide a valuable network of support.

almost a generation after we first became aware of the great work of the RnLi, we now have a child of our own. We are determined to raise her with an enjoyment of and a healthy respect for the sea. azara may still be less than a year old, but her interest in the RnLi seems to have begun already – when she saw Daddy driving the tractor to bring in the lifeboat after a recent launch, the picture on her face was priceless. your shout Dear Editor i’ve always enjoyed reading the Lifeboat. this time i read it over breakfast when the washing machine – a noisy one – was on. the new eye-catching arrangement held me riveted until fi nally the silence drew my attention away.

the machine had been off for 15 minutes and i had not even heard the last spin. a tribute to your new format, i think! Yours sincerely miss L le Cheminant Bembridge, isle of Wight [This letter is representative of the overwhelmingly positive response to our relaunch of the Lifeboat and introduction of RNLI Compass. Thank you to everyone who took the trouble to write in or phone with their comments.

However, some readers felt our Coastal Life feature ‘Not in my backyard?’ was biased towards windfarms and/or part of a global warming bandwagon. Our aim was to [This letter is representative of the overwhelmingly positive response to our relaunch of of who took the trouble to write in or phone with their comments.

our Coastal Life feature ‘Not in my backyard?’ was biased towards address the impact on the coastal community in general and the RNLI in particular, accepting the fact that offshore windfarms are to become more widespread. Our sources included the British Wind Energy Association, but also the RYA, MoD, DTI and RSPB and even planning committee papers with local objections, plus RNLI volunteers local to windfarms and RNLI operational staff. We made every attempt to be balanced and factual and apologise if any other relevant voices were unrepresented.

In our Spirit feature on Gold Medal awardee William Roberts, the anniversary service contact telephone number quoted was wrong. The correct number is: 07811 906404. Apologies for any confusion. Ed] Dear Editor During the Winter of 1940–41, i was serving aboard Hms Saltarelo, an anti-submarine trawler, escorting convoys between the Clyde and the Forth, from our base in Belfast. this entailed a passage through the notorious Pentland Firth, where i really gained my ‘sea legs’.

i could therefore visualise the rescue described in ‘Baptism of fi re and water’ in the summer issue.

Dr Christine Bradshaw is a very brave lady and well deserving of her Bronze medal – i think she deserved a Gold! God bless you all norman ‘nick’ Carter Hinkley, Leicestershire Dear Editor When i was a teenager, my school offered sailing at the local reservoir as part of our Pe. We mostly sailed a small wooden dinghy.

the school insisted on lifejackets all round.

One cold, wet afternoon my friend David decided it would be fun to gybe without telling the crew. He thought with a bit of luck he could get me in the water. actually the boat capsized and we both went in. i still remember the feeling of the water as it grabbed hold of my already wet jumper.

it was stunningly cold. i can still see the sky turning a strange green colour as the murky water closed over my face. at that moment, i knew that i had no chance of getting out unaided.

and i can still remember, a couple of seconds later, my lifejacket popping me back to the surface, and of coughing out the fi lthy water as i tried to tell David just what i thought of his prank. it was a great feeling to have survived.

now, i’m a strong swimmer, and if the conditions are right i’ll happily go in for the fun of it. But if i’m working on deck, helming, or rowing in the dinghy, you won’t be surprised to hear that i will always wear a lifejacket, no matter what the conditions.When i was a teenager, my school offered sailing at the local reservoir as part of our Pe. We mostly sailed a small wooden dinghy.

the school insisted on lifejackets all round.

One cold, wet afternoon my friend David decided it would be fun to gybe without telling the crew. He thought with a bit of luck he could get me in the water. actually the boat capsized and we both went in. i still remember the feeling of the water as it grabbed hold of my already wet jumper.

it was stunningly cold. i can still see the sky turning a strange green colour as the murky water closed over my face. at that moment, i knew that i had no chance of getting out unaided.

and i can still remember, a couple of seconds later, my lifejacket popping me back to the surface, and of coughing out the fi lthy water as i tried to tell David just what i thought of his prank. it was a great feeling to have survived.

now, i’m a strong swimmer, and if the conditions are right i’ll happily go in for the fun of it. But if i’m working on deck, helming, or rowing in the dinghy, you won’t be surprised to hear that i will always wear a lifejacket, no matter what the conditions. Kind regards, Ged Haywood [Offshore members can read more lifejacket stories like Ged’s in their specialist supplement to the Lifeboat. Ed] Dear Editor Further to two letters in the last issue of the Lifeboat.

First, do people donate after rescue? I once met a fellow boater, a professional type, who told me he goes sailing off Wales. Twice, he capsized his catamaran and twice the Pwllheli crew rescued him. When asked for a donation for the fuel used, he told them to get lost. He found this amusing.Second, Mr Skinner’s quest for Governor types who have his car sticker. Perhaps he might give me an accusing look, with my shaven head, tattoos, van and Liverpool accent – a stereotypical kleptomaniac! But Pwllheli’s crew would not have to ask me for diesel after deliverance. The tanks would be ? lled in mute gratitude.

Yours sincerely Derek Pugh Governor, Litherland, Liverpool to add your shout, write to the editor at [email protected] or RnLi Headquarters, West Quay Road, Poole, Dorset, BH15 1HZ .