In 1946, the lifeboat station on Valentia Island reopened after more than 50 years. ‘I was just 3 years old,’ remembers Dick. ‘Sitting high on my daddy’s shoulders, the vision of the lifeboat and the knowledge that its volunteer crew were going to be saving lives, enthralled me. From that day I was hooked!’

Throughout Dick’s childhood nothing could beat the adrenaline of a shout: ‘The whole town would be woken by the earsplitting alert. Then there were all these guys running, pulling on their gear – it was excitement with a capital E.’

But his first lifeboating role wasn’t quite what he expected: ‘I hung around the station from the age of 11, longing to join the crew.’ Harnessing this enthusiasm, Coxswain Jack Sugrue and Mechanic John Dore rounded up Dick and his friends to polish all the brass fixtures. ‘Even today, if I see a tin of Brasso, I walk the other way!’

Dick eventually became a volunteer crew member at Valentia in 1959, where another maintenance task nearly got him and his crew into deep water.

Cleaning the anchors of tar was a yearly but messy task. Ever resourceful: ‘We found we could de-tar our kit using spray from the station’s fire extinguishers. But empty extinguishers and no recorded fire puzzled the fire officer. He secretly added dye to the spray and our trousers ended up a lovely shade of pink!’

Dick got accustomed to leaping out of bed early in the morning to the sound of the maroon or pager. He believed he was doing something noble: ‘The sea is a bitterly cold and dangerous place but next time there’s a shout, you jump to it just the same. You never lose sight of the fact that lifeboating is about pulling someone out of the water. That’s what drives me on now to know more about the history and to actively raise funds.’

Inevitably, the person in the water cannot always be pulled out alive: ‘Easter 1967 we had a diver missing. We made a ring round where he was last seen but we didn’t find him. When someone’s lost there’s a terrible greyness from the sea and you know there’s a mother and father waiting for a knock on the door in the hope their son will return. You never forget. Every Easter he comes to my mind and I say a prayer for him.’

So far Dick Robinson has spent 54 years in voluntary service to the RNLI. He started rattling his collection box at 11, spent 7 years as Chairman at Listowel and 16 years as Honorary Secretary at Ennis where he is currently President. He is also an RNLI sea safety adviser and in 2008 celebrated his 65th year with a visit to the Lifeboat College.

A retired court clerk, Dick jokes his job made him ‘a prisoner to detail’. His knowledge of lifeboats is detailed and extensive – a room in the home he shares with wife Tess is devoted to ‘lifeboat stuff’.

Dick has travelled thousands of miles attending naming ceremonies and is in demand as a speaker. He contributes regularly to RTE’s Radio 1 programme Seascapes and is a published author. His own library includes nearly 100 books, 29 scrapbooks with cuttings and photographs, Lifeboat Enthusiasts’ newsletters, and the Lifeboat digital archive.

There’s no hiding the sparkle in Dick’s voice or the passion with which he tells his lifeboat stories. In his words: ‘Valentia Island has a grip on your heart and the sea has a grip on your soul. That never leaves you.’