An important part of Vinny’s job is to manage resources and triage incidents. “Harlyn Bay is usually busy but with Covid it’s become more crowded than ever. My job is to make sure that I keep the public safe but also my team.” says Vinny. He draws a risk vs reward diagram in the sand to explain. “I need to decide if the team will be safe, is it high or low risk versus high or low reward? Who is best to deploy in which scenario? Are the other people on the beach covered?” He has to assess all the factors in time critical circumstances despite the urgent impulse to rush in. This is where training and experience kick in. Having handled several harrowing rescues himself he is sober about the stakes involved.

I join Joel and Jack in the Ranger for the first patrol and they explain why the truck is such a vital and versatile piece of equipment. Foremost it acts as a portable base for the team providing shelter from the elements, sunstroke in particular can be an issue on long summer days. The glaring rays and brisk onshore breeze are already taking their toll so I’m grateful for the shade. The truck serves as a viewing platform to get a higher vantage point over the waves, a portable PA system so lifeguards can issue warnings where they’ll be heard above the wind and also comes equipped with flashing beacons to attract attention. They are covering a beach around a 1000 metres wide at low tide and the lifeguards need to navigate a constantly shifting terrain of sandbanks and streams fast with a substantial amount of kit. The Ranger serves as a clear visual presence for the public and can launch and recover the IRB from the water. It plays a fundamental role in safeguarding the beach and comes second only in importance to the kettle jokes Seb.

The next priority of the day is to designate the safest swimming area with red and yellow flags. It takes years of experience and local knowledge to best define the area. The zone is adjusted throughout the day with the tide, keeping a keen eye on on currents and conditions. Joel and Jack park the Ranger metres from the water’s edge, plant the lofty red and yellow flags and settle into the cabin for first watch of the day.

Vinny and Seb remain at the lifeguard’s hut patiently fielding questions from tourists while scanning the horizon for potential issues. As the public face of the RNLI, a charity reliant on fundraising to survive, they must foster good relations with the community. Even the twenty-third enquiry as to the toilets’ whereabouts is met with a genial response. Patience is every part a quality the lifeguards need as courage.

Walkie talkies chirrup and buzz as Seb checks in with the patrol and neighbouring beaches. Good communication is crucial within the team and across the various agencies they collaborate with, the coastguard, air ambulance, and RNLI lifeboats.

It seems a peaceful scene to the untrained eye but as I start to see it from the lifeguards’ perspective the beach comes alive with potential hazards. It’s like watching the opening scenes of Casualty in kaleidoscope. The gaggle of neoprene-clad children coasteering, packs of novice surfers blithely throwing themselves at the waves, a paddle-boarder drifting directly towards a rip, blissfully unaware that the calmest looking water can be the most dangerous.

There are dozens of dunes and rock pools to survey with a maze of pop-up sun shades obscuring the view. Vinny registers it all, ever vigilant, regularly checking in with his crew. As the saying goes a good lifeguard is a dry lifeguard meaning prevention is all. “If you’re jumping in with sea rescues every five minutes then you’re doing something wrong.” he explains. Countless lives are saved through dedicated awareness building and expert stewardship.

The only real incident of the day occurs when Vinny carries a blonde-mopped 10-year-old boy with weever fish stings to the hut. Lesser weever fish tend to sunbathe in the shallows exposing venomous dorsal fins to unsuspecting feet. They are harmless overall but can be very painful. Dan the supervisor who oversees eight of the local beaches has stopped by and reassures the boy “I’ve seen a Royal marine reduced to tears by a weever fish so you’re doing ok”. The boy sits a little taller in his chair. Vinny fills a washing up bowl from the hot kettle to break down poisonous proteins in the boy’s foot handing him a leaflet about weever fish as a distraction. Weever stings are a common injury here but by far the most dangerous animal on the beach is the increasingly common inflatable unicorn. Lightweight and easily capsized they can be quickly swept out to sea on a windy day.

Recently the RNLI launched the Tide Tracks initiative with Ford developing custom tire treads to imprint key safety messages in the sand including NO INFLATABLES. Myriad beach signs also warn against flimsy water toys but in the end the RNLI can only advise the public and be ready to respond if things go wrong.

A surprising number of incidents occur long before people even make it to the water – lost children, fallen coastal path walkers, cardiac events, strokes. The lifeguards deal with everything from stubbed toes to cracked skulls, anaphylaxis, lacerations, fishing hooks stuck where they don’t belong and just plain old sand in the eyes.

As the day progresses the team swap patrols regularly to stay alert. Jack is eager to gain crew experience and keen to prove himself, so Vinny takes him out for rescue boat training. Handling the IRB requires seamless teamwork and it is said that the helm can only be as good as their crew. They have to know when to use their weight as a counterbalance, when to fling themselves onto the bow to punch through a wave, when to lean. The IRBs are lethal in the wrong hands, prone to flip with inexperienced handling but fast, maneuverable and life-saving in the hands of a seasoned team.

Jack and Vinny unceremoniously ditch Fred, a faceless fluorescent dummy, into the white spray and arc away leaving him stranded. Fred is a tougher rescue prospect than most human casualties because real people can help get themselves into the boat. But to lift Fred, a slippery moving target with a dead weight of around 40 kilos wet, from above is a tremendous test of dexterity and strength. The pair run the drill over and over again, Vinny expertly steering through the waves, Jack tirelessly scooping Fred into the boat. These are the people you want standing between you and the Atlantic. A central tenet of lifeguard training is repetition so the skills become second nature. Training must kick in instinctively when the call comes, there is no time for hesitation or mistakes at sea.

Back on what’s left of the beach that afternoon a lively spring tide has transformed the landscape. The wide seaweed-laced bay has vanished beneath the waves leaving only a sliver of land patrolled by thuggish herring gulls. Joel announces their departure on the PA, retrieves the flags and the Ranger beeps its way back to base, reversing nimbly around the remaining sunbathers. Seb rinses down the Ranger and Vinny empties the kettle ready for whatever the next day brings.

Words: Jenni Doggett
Photography: Jenna Foxton