The Brighton steamer

Here is the 16th of 24 stained glass window designs on the Palace Pier which AI and I are using as inspiration for some of these BrightonBeach365 daily posts - see Stained Glass Window 1 for background. The image shows a stylised seascape in shades of blue, white and beige. At its centre is a ship with a single tall funnel and two long decks lined with rows of square windows, suggesting a passenger steamer. The vessel has a solid, rounded hull that sits low in the water, built for carrying people rather than speed. It is sailing from right to left across dark blue waves, with broad cloud shapes filling the sky above. In the foreground, sandy tones and angled forms evoke the shoreline or harbour wall, giving the impression of the ship either departing or arriving at the coast.

A limerick starter

A bright little steamer at sea

Steered a bit too close to the quay.

The captain cried, ‘Blimey

The chalk’s right before me!’

Then dodged it with surprising esprit.

The Brighton steamer (in the style of Joseph Conrad)

The Brighton steamer lay broadside to the cliffs, its hull dark against the pallor of chalk and cloud. A late tide heaved against the shingle, uneasy, as though uncertain of its errand. The vessel, with her one funnel trailing a faint stain of smoke, seemed strangely inert, half-marooned in that restless light, yet she pressed on, slow and deliberate, past the line of the pier.

I watched her from the stones, the weight of her passage pressing upon me as though I were myself embarked. Those rows of windows, dull squares under the whitening sky, were like so many blind eyes - passengers hidden, yet expectant. One imagines them sensing, as I did, the menace of the shore: the pale cliff rearing to the east, sheer and implacable, indifferent to all the little confusions of men.

It is not the sea that alarms me, for the sea, even in its sudden wrath, is honest. No, it is the coast, the narrowing margin where water and rock conspire against the traveller, where a false bearing or a moment’s pride may grind out years of labour in an instant. I thought of the master on his bridge, his hands idle on the rail, gazing ahead with the obstinacy of command, knowing that any falter of judgment would lay bare the futility of his journey.

The ship moved on, a shadow sliding under the immensity of cloud, past the bright disorder of the town’s terraces, into the channel’s uncertain breadth. I turned away then, yet her slow form remained before me, imprinted like a memory of some choice deferred, a fate hovering just beyond reach of the beach and its stones.

Ace Cafe Reunion

The Ace Cafe Reunion returned to Brighton today, bringing thousands of bikers to Madeira Drive for a spectacle that has become one of the city’s most distinctive annual gatherings. The event began in 1994 when Ace Cafe London, a legendary biker hangout on the North Circular, marked its rebirth after decades of closure by organising a ride-out to the seafront. Since then, every September, the Ace Cafe Reunion has seen riders thunder down from the capital to the coast, recreating the Rocker spirit of the 1950s and 60s.

The Ace itself first opened in 1938 as a transport cafe serving lorry drivers, but its position beside a major arterial road made it a natural magnet for motorcyclists. After the war, it became synonymous with Rockers, leather jackets, jukeboxes and the rise of teenage rebellion. Racing from cafe to cafe along the North Circular became notorious, and when the Ace closed in 1969, it passed into legend. Its relaunching in 1994, and the annual Brighton ride-out, cemented its place in modern motorcycling culture. (The three Harley-Davidsons parked on the pavement in the photo above are: yellow on left - Street Glide/Electra Glide; green in middle - Softail Fat Bob; and red on right - Sportster trike conversion.)

Madeira Drive has long been associated with motor events, from the 1905 Brighton Speed Trials to Mods and Rockers in the 1960s - see Mods and Rockers clash in the 60s. The reunion has sometimes stirred memories of those rivalries, especially when police have warned about antisocial riding or unofficial late-night gatherings spilling over. But the day itself is now an organised celebration, complete with trade stands, live music, and bikes of every possible make and style lined up along the seafront.

Quirky traditions abound. It is said that the first year’s Brighton run ended with bikes parked so tightly on Madeira Drive that some riders couldn’t retrieve theirs until nightfall. Another year saw complaints about burnouts on the promenade leaving black scars on the tarmac. More recently, council restrictions and road closures have occasionally caused tension between organisers and the city, but the event remains a highlight in Brighton’s busy calendar, attracting international visitors as well as locals.

Today, as a band played from a truck stage and the sun lit up the line of machines stretching towards the Palace Pier, it was easy to see why the reunion endures. The Ace Cafe’s story is one of survival and reinvention, and each September in Brighton it finds fresh expression in the roar of engines on the seafront.

Bandit at Two O’Clock

Here is the 15th of 24 stained glass window designs on the Palace Pier which AI and I are using as inspiration for some of these BrightonBeach365 daily posts - see Stained Glass Window 1 for background. In this image, two small planes fly low over a bright green landscape beneath a sky of blue and white cloud. The larger, red-winged aircraft (possibly a Cessna) dominates the scene, its nose lifted as if coming in to land. Below it, a smaller pink plane (possibly a de Havilland Tiger Moth) tilts across the fields, wings angled in motion. To the right, a golden path curves towards a pool of deep blue water, catching the eye as it winds away toward the horizon. The whole picture brims with movement and colour, a vivid glimpse of flight above fields and shore.

A limerick starter

A jaunty red flyer on high

Saw a pink one come wobbling by.

They jostled for space

In a comical race,

And both nearly fell from the sky.

Bandit at Two O’Clock (in the style of the Biggles books by W. E. Johns)

The Channel lay calm as glass, Brighton Beach stretched in a golden strip, and the gaunt ribs of the old West Pier glinted in the sun. Biggles held the stick steady, his red-winged machine purring contentedly. Algy, perched in the observer’s seat behind, shaded his eyes with one hand and scanned the horizon.

‘Bandit at two o’clock!’ he barked suddenly.

Biggles banked hard, the aircraft flashing scarlet as it turned seaward. Out of a puff of white cloud came a pink biplane, nose down, engine snarling, its guns spitting spitefully.

Below, holidaymakers thought it part of a show. Children clapped from deckchairs as the two machines roared along the surf-line. Biggles dropped lower still, his wheels all but kissing the spray, the enemy reckless enough to follow.

‘He’s too green for this game,’ Algy shouted over the slipstream. ‘Give him the slip and he’ll tie himself in knots!’

Biggles grinned thinly, jerked the stick, and the red machine shot upwards in a steep climb. The pink biplane tried to match it, stalled, and floundered. In a flash Biggles was round on its tail, the Vickers gun chattering.

The intruder wavered, engine coughing. A plume of black smoke streamed back as it staggered over the Palace Pier. Moments later it flopped ignominiously onto the lawns behind the Metropole Hotel, wheels splayed, wings broken.

When they set down at Shoreham, the word was already through: a foreign agent, papers in his pocket and not a word of English, plucked from the wreckage.

Algy clambered down, brushing sand from his trousers. ‘Another spot of bother tidied up,’ he remarked.

Biggles lit a cigarette, his gaze on the fading light over Brighton.

‘Tidied, yes,’ he said. ‘But there’ll be more of them. Mark my words, Algy - Brighton’s a hotter spot than the holidaymakers ever guess.’

A boy, a yacht and a cat

On this day in 1951 the Daily Mirror published the tale of a boy, a yacht and a cat. ‘Shivering and soaked to the skin,’ it began, twelve-year-old Roger Maitland stood on the deck of his father’s topsail schooner Rustler as heavy seas drove her toward the shingle. When the anchor cable parted and a tow proved hopeless, Roger tucked the kitten inside his jacket and swam for the shore while holidaymakers cheered. ‘I was not afraid,’ he said afterwards; ‘The kitten got frightened and clawed my face.’ The Daily Mirror set out the scene in tight detail: the beach some sixty yards away; his father, Kenneth Maitland, and family friend Fred Austin also abandoning the vessel; and the Shoreham lifeboat with a hawser aboard but unable to pull her clear.

The Telegraph, the same day, added the practical coda: after failed attempts to refloat her that tide, Rustler was hauled higher up the beach by a lorry to await the next rise. A photograph in The Journal of the Royal National Life-boat Institution - captioned ‘Shoreham life-boat and the yacht Rustler - shows the schooner grinding in the surf with the lifeboat standing by.

A year later, the wreck was still a Brighton landmark. Ernie Charman’s diary places him on the promenade on Sunday 24 August 1952, photographing Rustler beached between the piers as crowds filed past. His note fixes the date; the memories it prompted show how fast the vessel became part of seafront life.

Local recollections found at My Brighton and Hove fill in what happened next. ‘The Rustler could not be refloated,’ one reader remembers; ‘dozens of volunteers shovelling stones away from the ship,’ recalls another. Several contributors say children were allowed aboard: ‘we climbed on board, I was eight years old,’ wrote Terry Hyde; ‘the man let us on board to play . . . it was fabulous,’ remembered Rosemary Brazill. As the fabric failed, accounts say the remains were eventually burned and beachcombers picked through the cooling timbers for copper and bronze.

The Mod Weekender

Thousands of scooters and sharply dressed Mods descended on Brighton this Bank Holiday weekend, with Madeira Drive once again the focal point of the annual Mod Weekender. Lines of Vespas and Lambrettas, many lavishly customised with chrome, lights and Union Jacks, stretched along the promenade, while the beach and seafront filled with spectators and photographers. For many, the weekend has become a living tribute to the subculture that defined the 1960s and found one of its most enduring homes in Brighton.

The Brighton Mod Weekender was established in 2005 by The New Untouchables, a London-based collective of DJs, promoters and enthusiasts committed to keeping Mod culture alive. The group had long been organising club nights and events centred on Northern Soul, ska, rhythm and blues, and 1960s beat music. Bringing their efforts to Brighton in the mid-2000s was both symbolic and practical: the city was immortalised in the 1979 film Quadrophenia and already had a global reputation as the spiritual home of the Mods. (See also Mods and Rockers clash in the 60s.)

The inaugural event in 2005 drew hundreds of scooters and enthusiasts, with daytime meet-ups on the seafront and late-night parties at venues such as the Komedia. Over the years it has grown into one of the largest gatherings of its kind, attracting visitors from across Britain and Europe. Scooter ride-outs to Beachy Head and beyond became part of the ritual, as did competitions for the best customised bikes, while the weekend marketplace offered records, clothing and memorabilia. The event also helped shift Brighton’s civic stance: once a city that banned Mods from its pier in the 1960s, it has since embraced them as part of its heritage and tourist identity.

The Weekender has not been without its defining moments. In 2014, thousands of Mods marked the 50th anniversary of the infamous 1964 seaside clashes with Rockers, filling Brighton’s streets with scooters in what local media described as the largest gathering since those heady days. In 2019, the seaside saw record crowds again, just before the pandemic forced a pause in 2020. When the event returned, the emphasis on heritage was clearer than ever, with exhibitions, photographic retrospectives and fashion shows anchoring the programme alongside the music and scooters.

This year marks the 20th anniversary of the Brighton Mod Weekender, and the celebrations have been extensive. Yesterday and today Madeira Drive was packed with scooters, while crowds lined the seafront to watch the ride-outs and browse the stalls.

Piper Tri‑Pacer test flight

Found on the beach: Piper Tri‑Pacer. Not the real thing! but a foam glider from a familiar seaside toy set, labelled ‘Jet Fighters’. Though this packaging suggests a focus on military jets, the set often include a mix of fighter planes, vintage propeller aircraft, and general aviation types like the Tri‑Pacer.

Still in a sealed package, I felt this find was an invitation to make and test fly the model. The design is No. 12 in a series of twelve collectible aircraft designs. The Piper Tri‑Pacer itself was a four-seat, high-wing monoplane produced in the United States from 1950 to 1964, known for its tricycle undercarriage and popularity among postwar civilian pilots.

Often manufactured in Asia and sold under various generic brands, the toys are part of a long tradition of inexpensive, throwaway beach items. But their materials - non-biodegradable plastics and foams - have made them a target of environmental concern.

The toy glider, likely made of polystyrene foam with a plastic nose cap, would have been sold for very little from a beachfront kiosk or souvenir shop. These lightweight, slot-together models have been a fixture of seaside holidays since at least the 1970s.

And yet, they are poorly made, too light to cope with even the mildest of sea breezes (despite the evidence of these photographs!), so they duck and dive barely able to stay airborne before crashing into the pebbles. 

Time for one last staged photograph before flying off to a waste bin.

A truck in thought

This photo shows a Davis Trackhire truck, equipped with a hydraulic crane, unloading or positioning a large stack of heavy-duty panels - temporary ground protection or trackway, designed to create stable surfaces for vehicles and crowds on uneven or soft ground. In the background, you can see the calm turquoise sea with the silhouettes of the Rampion wind farm turbines on the horizon, under a clear blue sky. What is the truck thinking?

‘How curious it is, to pause amid the salt-kissed air, steel sinews humming with potential, beneath the ever-watchful sun. They call me Davis - a name painted boldly upon my flanks, though what is a name to a mind busy with purpose and observation? Here, perched between shingle and surf, I contemplate more than just my cargo.

I have journeyed on many roads: winding motorways by dawn, city grids pulsing with restless ambition, and now the still calm of the coast. Each mile of my travel has etched stories into my chassis - patience when the world is slow, resilience when the elements test me, satisfaction upon completing my duty.

Today I am burdened, yet unbowed; my payload stacked with the meticulous care of intent and design. My mechanical arm curves with the choreography of industry, a testament to human ingenuity and my own quiet resolve. I find purpose in service, pride in precision. My mission is as clear as the horizon: to deliver, to build, to form the bedrock upon which progress is staged.

Yet I am not without wonder. As I gaze seaward, turbines spin far off, guardians of a future knit with wind and light. I marvel at what I carry, but also at what carries me - the systems and hands, decisions and designs, that coalesce in a moment like this.

I am more than machinery, more than fuel and metal. I am a witness to endeavour, a bearer of burdens, a contemplative spirit at the margin of earth and water. My wheels may rest, but my mind, galvanised by quiet reflection, wanders still.

So let it be written: I am truck, yet thinker; labourer, yet philosopher. On this stony edge, I am at once at home and ever in motion, ever turning ideas as surely as I turn my wheels.’

French attack repulsed!

Exactly 480 years ago today, and amid heightened hostilities between England and France, a French fleet launched an attempted landing at Brighton. The incident is vividly described in Holinshed’s Chronicles, later quoted by the Victorian historian John Ackerson Erredge. Alongside this narrative survives a remarkable contemporary map, now held in the British Library, which graphically depicts the French fleet offshore, the disembarkation of troops, and the town in flames.

In 1545, during the reign of Henry VIII, England was in conflict with France. After Henry’s forces had taken Boulogne and devastated regions of France, King Francis I sent Admiral D’Annebault with a formidable fleet to retaliate by striking at the English south coast. The event, described in Holinshed’s Chronicles (a three-volume British history published in the late 16th century), as quoted in History of Brighthelmston by Erredge (page 61), specifically mentions Brighton (then styled ‘Bright Hampstead’ or ‘Brighthampston’):

‘In 37[th year of the reign of] Hen. 8th, 1545, July the 18th, the admiral of Franco, Mons. Donebatte [a corruption of the name D’Annebault), hoisted up sails, and with his whole navy (which consisted of 200 ships and 26 gallies,) came forth into the seas, and arrived on the coast of Sussex, before Bright Hampstead, and set certain of his soldiers on land to burn and spoil the country: but the beacons were fired and the inhabitants thereabouts came down so thick, that the Frenchmen were driven to their ships with loss of diverse of their numbers, so that they did little hurt there.’

The attempted landing at Brighton was thus met with swift resistance from the local populace, rallied by beacon fires. Their response was so determined that the French could do ‘little hurt there’ and were quickly forced back to their ships, having suffered losses. Again, it is said that ‘the inhabitants thereabouts came down so thick’ that the French attack was foiled before much damage could be done.

The text also refers to a remarkable ‘Picture Map’ from the time, providing further detail about the attack: ‘The number of ships attacking the town is twenty-two; and the largest, probably the Admiral’s, lying nearest the shore, has four masts. . . Eight of the latter [galleys] are on shore, and the armed men from them have disembarked on the beach, the place where they landed being inscribed, - “here landed the galleys”.’

This map apparently depicts the full force of the attempted raid. Details include: ‘On shore the houses under the cliffe are on fire; from the upper town also flames are issuing from almost every house.’ The town at that time had ‘five rows of houses running from north to south’ with a town field in the centre and a prominent road east, ‘about the spot now occupied by the Old Steine,’ labeled as ‘the valcy comyng from Lewes town to Brighthampston.’

Defensive preparations and geography are highlighted: ‘On this road and on the hill adjacent bodies of armed men are marching towards the town.’ Key townspeople landmarks are noted, such as the ‘town fyre cag’ (likely for signalling), the church encircled by praying or armed townsfolk, and two ‘wynde mylles’ to the north, near ‘the bekon of the towne’.

The response of the local gentry and yeomen is emphasised both in the narrative and in map notes suggesting rapid mustering in defense: ‘As this road approaches the beach, it is inscribed, - “Upon this west pt may lond cm psones (100,000 persons) unletted by any pvision there.” ’

The attempted raid on Brighton thus achieved very little for the French: they were repulsed with ‘diverse of their numbers’ lost, while the locals ‘quickly distressed them’. Their attack was notable for the rapid civilian and militia resistance that foiled their intent to burn or pillage the town. The French then moved on to other nearby targets, but Brighton’s quick and effective defence seems to stand out in this record as a testament to the vigilance and bravery of its 16th-century residents.

This vivid account is matched by the surviving picture map, produced at the same time - July 1545 - and now held in the British Library under the reference Cotton Augustus I. i. 18. This large-scale, hand-coloured map depicts the French fleet offshore, the disembarkation of troops, burning houses, beacon fires, and armed townspeople rallying in defence. It is thought the map was likely commissioned as part of Henry VIII’s broader programme of coastal surveillance and fortification.

A long RNLI weekend

RNLI volunteers have been busy along Brighton Beach during the last few days. Over the weekend, the crews launched five times in 48 hours, a press release details, dealing with everything from people blown offshore on inflatables to paddleboarders venturing far out to sea.

The first task came at 7.30pm last Friday when the crew launched to reports of a person in the water clinging to an orange float near the West Pier. The lifeboat quickly located a man who was fishing from his stand-up paddleboard. On the return journey, at around dusk, the crew spotted two paddleboarders approximately 1.25 nautical miles offshore. The pair were attempting to reach the wind farm in failing light. They had no communication devices, no lifejackets, no food or water, and were dressed only in T-shirts and shorts. With conditions deteriorating and darkness falling, the crew persuaded them to come aboard and towed their boards back to the beach.

A third task that evening involved a dinghy with paddlers waving for attention. While this turned out to be a case of poor paddling technique rather than distress, it demonstrated the importance of raising the alarm early. Saturday lunchtime, the crew launched to search for a 27-year-old man who had been missing for over 90 minutes after swimming east of Brighton Palace Pier. His belongings were found unattended on the beach by his friend, prompting a swift and coordinated response. Brighton RNLI carried out shoreline and offshore searches, while RNLI Lifeguards and Coastguard teams scoured the beach, and a rescue helicopter conducted an aerial search. The swimmer was eventually located and assisted onshore by the lifeguards and Coastguard.

Just hours later, that evening, Brighton RNLI was called out again. Two people had earlier been brought ashore without lifejackets after using a jet ski, but later swam back out to retrieve the craft, which had been tied to a buoy. Concerned that they might attempt another unsafe recovery, the crew returned the two individuals and their jet ski to Brighton Marina. The incident served as a reminder of how even seemingly short trips on the water can escalate without proper equipment or planning.

Finally, on Monday, at 1.24am, Brighton RNLI launched following a police request after bloodied clothing was discovered near the shore close to the i360. The crew carried out a thorough search of the area but were stood down after nothing was found. Back at the station, returning crew were met by five of the newest volunteer crew. They turned out in the early hours to help recover and clean the boat and to start learning how to respond to calls in the middle of the night safely.

These weekend call-outs were not unusual for the Brighton RNLI team. In 2024, Brighton RNLI responded to 61 incidents and were credited with saving two lives. Across Sussex, RNLI lifeboats carried out 475 launches last year, reflecting how busy the coastline can be.

Lifeboat operations manager Charlie Dannreuther said: ‘These launches highlight just how varied, and how demanding, a weekend on the coast can be. They also reinforced some vital safety messages. Whether you’re paddleboarding, using a jet ski, or going for a swim, being prepared is essential. Always wear a lifejacket when on the water. Take a means of calling for help, like a mobile phone in a waterproof pouch or a VHF radio. Check the weather forecast and tide times. Don’t head out in fading light. And always tell someone your plan.’

More support for Kings Arches

Some of Brighton’s crumbling seafront arches are set for a long-awaited transformation following the Department for Transport’s green light on 8 July to release £21 million from its Major Road Network fund. The money will pay for the next two major phases of the A259 King’s Road Highway Structures Renewal Programme, a project said to be vital for safeguarding the upper promenade and coast road that run above dozens of ageing Victorian arches. Much of the finance will go towards reinforcing the arches since these act as a viaduct supporting the road.

Brighton & Hove City Council has been working on plans to restore the arches for over a decade, prompted by structural failures that first made headlines in 2012. The most dramatic incident came in 2014, when the Fortune of War arch partially collapsed, forcing emergency repairs. Subsequent inspections revealed that many sections of the Victorian seafront were in similar peril. The arches not only house small businesses but also support the A259, which carries up to 36,000 vehicles, 30,000 pedestrians and 2,500 cyclists daily.

Council documents, planning applications and engineering reports, which have been repeatedly cited in local newspapers including the Argus and Brighton and Hove News, set out the detailed proposals. They show that Phase 4 of the scheme will rebuild the arches between the King’s Road playground and the Brighton Music Hall, while Phase 5 will reconstruct even more arches just west of the Shelter Hall. Together these phases are expected to cost around £27 million. The council will top up the government’s grant with local funds.

The rebuilt structures will use a reinforced concrete frame on piled foundations to provide modern load capacity, concealed behind brick façades designed to match the originals. The listed cast-iron balustrades along the upper promenade will be replaced with replicas, slightly raised to meet current safety regulations. The works also promise better ventilation and more efficient services, including the installation of discreet air-source heat pumps. Much of this information comes from the planning submissions and technical statements lodged with the city council, as well as design papers prepared by Project Centre, an arm of Marston Holdings, which is overseeing the engineering.

Construction is expected to start on Phase 4 now and run for about a year, followed by Phase 5 from May 2026 over roughly 18 months. During this time the A259 carriageway and lower promenade will remain open, though parts of the upper promenade may close intermittently. The council has pledged that businesses occupying the arches will either be temporarily relocated or have the chance to return to upgraded premises.

Local leaders have argued for years that the investment is critical not only to protect Brighton’s most famous road from collapse but also to secure the long-term future of the seafront economy. Earlier phases of the arches restoration, including around the i360 and Shelter Hall, have already demonstrated how modern structural interventions can be blended with heritage preservation.

Brighton Beach as runway!

Brighton Beach has always been a place for spectacle, but few moments could have matched the astonishment of locals in 1911 when Sir Harry Preston, the flamboyant hotelier and sportsman, arranged for a monoplane to land on the wide shingle shore. Preston, keen to boost Brighton’s reputation as a fashionable playground, was a fervent supporter of early aviation. Eager to showcase the marvels of flight, he invited pioneering pilot Oscar Morison to make a dramatic landing on the beach. 

On 15 February, crowds gathered to watch as Morison brought his Blériot XI monoplane skimming over the waves and touched down on the shingle beach between the Palace and West Piers. Although the rough pebbled surface damaged the aircraft’s undercarriage and propeller, the landing was safe, with Preston himself among the delighted spectators. The event captured national headlines and cemented Brighton’s place in the glamorous story of early aviation. (See the Sir Harry Preston website for further details).

Preston’s enthusiasm for flying was not limited to publicity stunts. As proprietor of the Royal York and the Royal Albion Hotels, he entertained countless aviators, racing drivers and sportsmen, many of whom regarded Brighton as their sporting headquarters. Preston saw aviation as part of the modern allure of his beloved town - a symbol of speed, daring, and forward-looking spirit.

Meanwhile, the inventive Volk brothers - Magnus and George Herbert, sons of Magnus Volk of electric railway fame -were turning their mechanical skills to aviation. Their particular story was recently (May) uncovered by BBC News with photographs (as above) and a radio report. From around 1910, the brothers were producing engines and floats in a North Laine workshop (though George Herbert ‘Bert’ Volk was at the heart of these endeavours). Soon after, they were building full airframes and fitting them with lightweight engines. The parts for these curious craft were wheeled down to the seafront near Paston Place, where they were assembled and launched directly into the Channel from Brighton Beach. 

Bert Volk’s operation attracted other aviation enthusiasts and innovators. Among them was John Cyril Porte, later known for his significant contributions to flying boat design, who collaborated on ideas about hulls and floats. In 1912, the celebrated aviator Claude Grahame‑White arrived in Brighton and demonstrated flights from Volk’s beach station, adding a dash of celebrity to the venture and thrilling crowds who had never seen such machines take to the air from the waves.

This brief flowering of marine aviation in Brighton, however, was overtaken by larger forces. By 1913, Bert had departed for South Africa, and with the outbreak of the First World War, the government requisitioned the site for wartime needs.

Our hopes spin with her

The Argus - 5 July 2125

Brighton Space Centre stands proud on the Brighton seafront this evening, its slender tower catching the reflections in a sky tinged faintly by dust from the Martian frontier. At precisely 23:00, MarsBright - that now-familiar mirrored sphere - launched on its third mission to Mars.

From the beach it seemed to hover impossibly still, balanced atop the old i360 column, now transformed into a humming magnetic launch spine that pierces the skyline like a futuristic needle. The promenade fell silent as countdown lights winked along the tower’s ribs. At the final mark, a deep harmonic vibration rolled through the shingle, rattling faraway deckchairs and drawing startled cries from gulls overhead. Then, with a sudden controlled fury, electromagnetic forces surged through the spine, hurling the pod skyward in a smooth, corkscrewing ascent.

Inside MarsBright, the six-person crew are floating in a stabilised magnetic cradle, insulated from the crushing G-forces that once defined the early days of spaceflight. External cameras are beaming back breathtaking footage of Brighton slipping away in fragmented flashes of myriad lights, of the Palace Pier shrinking to a spindly ghost against the surf, and of the entire coastline curling into a bright seam on the edge of the world before vanishing behind the curvature of Earth.

It was only two decades ago that a handful of newly minted Sussex University physicists, armed with grant money and audacity, discovered the tower’s hollow steel core could be adapted into a vertical electro-magnetic accelerator. Their early tests - pinging lumps of iron skyward at modest velocities - were reported almost as an oddity by this very newspaper, tucked beside stories of seafront bandstands and municipal parking rows. Who then would have imagined that these playful experiments would one day give Brighton a front-row seat in humanity’s reach for the stars?

The city’s first Mars mission in 2115 was a triumph of daring engineering, delivering five astronauts into a fast transit orbit around the red planet and returning them home in a time once thought impossible. By 2121, MarsBright’s second venture established a semi-permanent outpost on Arcadia Planitia, where automated rigs began drilling for ice and testing on-site oxygen production, sketching the first practical outlines of a human habitat.

Now this third expedition will press further still, aiming to lay the groundwork for longer-term habitation - greenhouses seeded with engineered microbes, larger habitats to shield settlers from radiation, and new systems to tap Martian brines for water. MarsBright carries not only fresh crews and equipment, but also the weight of hope from a small seaside city whose name is now quietly etched alongside Houston and Baikonur in the chronicles of exploration.

As the gleaming pod dwindled into the night sky, the launch teams at Brighton Space Centre stood watching in shared, almost reverent silence. Then someone let out a breathless cheer, quickly joined by others, a fragile human sound carried down the wind to the waiting crowds on the beach. Another chapter begins - and as MarsBright spins toward that distant rust-red world, our hopes spin with her. 

The wreck of the Atlantique

On a stormy June night in 1860, Brighton Beach became the stage for a maritime tragedy that left one man dead and a French vessel stranded in the surf. The Atlantique, a coal-laden ship bound from Bowness to Marseilles, was driven hopelessly off course by days of violent weather. As the gale intensified, she struck the beach behind the Albion Hotel, within sight of the town’s esplanade. 

The wreck became the subject of local newspaper reports and a dramatic engraving in the Illustrated London News (1860-06-16: Vol 36 Iss 1036). A copy of the original edition, but with an imperfect image, can be freely viewed online at Internet Archive. A much better image - of which this is a screenshot - can be found at the Regency Society website (the digital image being owned by the Society of Brighton Print Collectors).

Here is the brief article that appeared with the picture in London Illustrated News.

‘The terrific gale which blew on Saturday week was felt in its full force at Brighton, and two vessels - the Transit, of Shoreham, and the Atlantique, of Nantes - were driven on shore. We give an engraving of the wreck of the latter vessel, from a sketch taken on the Pier Esplanade by Mr. E. Nibbs, of Howard-place, Brighton. The following details of the disaster are from a local paper.

The wreck of the Atlantique, of Nantes, took place last night, and, unfortunately, there was loss of one life. Between eleven and twelve o’clock the vessel was seen driving towards the shore, until at length, just at the turn of the tide, and during the height of the gale, she struck the beach at the back of the Albion Hotel, carrying away part of the groyne, and the sea began to beat furiously over her. Captain Manby’s apparatus was called into requisition, and rockets were thrown, by means of which a rope was thrown over the vessel and communication with the shore established. The captain and some others threw themselves into the sea, and got safely to shore. One young man, however, was carried away by the sea and drowned, his body being found not far from the spot about an hour afterwards. The rest were saved by means of the ropes of the ship and the exertions of those on the shore. The exhausted and weatherbeaten men, including the captain, five men, and a boy, were taken to Mr. Payne’s Marine Hotel, where fires were prepared and every kindness shown them. The Atlantique was bound from Bowness to Marseilles, laden with 210 tons of gas coal. She was driven considerably out of her course by the heavy gales of the previous Sunday and Monday, and, after encountering much bad weather, on Saturday, the 2nd inst., was forced helplessly on the Sussex coast.

South-East History Boards has a transcript of the local newspaper report on the inquest into the death of Celestin Pruneau, First Mate of the Atlantique. 

An attempt was made to refloat the Atlantique, the same source reveals, but this failed - the salvors sold her cargo of coal, the purchaser being the Brighton & Hove Gas Co.

London to Brighton for £2!

The fifth annual London to Brighton Electric Vehicle Rally rolled out from Westminster this morning, as more than sixty quiet yet determined electric vehicles - ranging from sleek city cars to robust SUVs - set off on the scenic 60-mile journey to Brighton Beach. Two Teslas pulled in first.

Launched in 2021 as a grassroots initiative to inspire confidence in EVs, the rally has grown exponentially - beginning with just 23 participants at its inception, climbing to over 120 competitors and drawing an estimated 35,000 spectators this year. Today, the first to arrive was a grey Tesla, closely followed by a father and son in a second grey Tesla - competition number 37. The driver of the second Tesla told the MC that the trip had only cost him £2 on ‘fuel’.

According to the promoters: ‘Whether you’re a participant or a visitor, Madeira Drive in Brighton is the place to be on rally day. With over 35,000 expected visitors, it transforms into a hub of electric vehicle innovation and entertainment. At the centre of it all is our EVillage, featuring partners like BYD and Hankook Tyres. Here, attendees can test drive a wide variety of electric vehicles with zero obligation, engage with manufacturers, and learn about the latest advancements in electric mobility.’ Tonight, an award ceremony is due to take place at the Brighton i360 - a celebration of the year’s most efficient vehicles.

The organisers are keen to demonstrate the advance of EVs. In 2021, they made up only 11.6% of new car registrations. In 2025, that figure has passed 27%, and the government predicts it could hit 50% by 2028. Charging infrastructure has improved too, with over 60,000 public charge points available across the UK - up from just 9,000 in 2018. Ultra-rapid chargers are appearing on motorways, in supermarkets, and even in remote villages - see more at Fully Charged Show.

14,000 cyclists on Madeira Drive

It is the British Heart Foundation’s London to Brighton Bike Ride today, and up to 14,000 cyclists and many supporting friends and family are descending on Brighton Beach’s Madeira Drive. The ride is one of the largest mass-participation cycling events in the country, and it is surely the longest-running - next year it will be celebrating its half century.

First staged in 1976, the London to Brighton Bike Ride has become a summer institution, attracting a broad range of riders - from seasoned club cyclists to families on vintage tandems - all pedalling the 54-mile route from Clapham Common to Madeira Drive. Over the decades, it is estimated more than 650,000 people have completed the ride, raising in excess of £50 million for heart disease research and patient support. Organised with rolling road closures and medical and mechanical support along the route, it’s a rare opportunity for cyclists to experience a fully marshalled ride through London, Surrey and the Sussex countryside.

A signature feature of the ride is the infamous Ditchling Beacon, a mile-long climb near the finish that has become a rite of passage for many riders. With gradients reaching 16%, it’s a test of strength and spirit, all the more memorable for the crowds of volunteers and supporters who line its verges each June, ringing cowbells and cheering even the weariest cyclists to the summit. In 1994 and 2014, the climb briefly gained wider fame when it was included in the Tour de France’s visits to the UK.

Over the years, the ride has drawn a colourful mix of participants and transport. In 2016, Sussex man Alex Orchin completed the ride on a 130-year-old penny farthing, raising funds for the British Heart Foundation and turning heads along the route. Riders have also tackled the 54-mile course on unicycles, tandems, post office bikes, and folding commuters, with reports of such appearances dating back to the early 1980s. Though often slower than the pack, these unconventional entrants have long been part of the event’s inclusive and good-humoured spirit.

In recent years, participation numbers have fluctuated, partly due to the pandemic, which led to the cancellation of the event in 2020 and reduced entries in subsequent years. In 2024, around 12,000 cyclists took part - a significant rebound - and this year the ride is on track to be one of the most successful with over £1m raised. Much of the money, the organisers say, goes towards pioneering research into heart failure, congenital heart disease and genetic conditions affecting the cardiovascular system.

Together Co at the pier

Brighton-based charity Together Co is hitting the road today with a vibrant citywide bus roadshow marking 25 years of tackling loneliness and building community connections in Brighton & Hove. The one-day celebration, part of the charity’s #ConnectIn25 campaign, coincides with Loneliness Awareness Week and aims to put ‘social health’ - the ability to form meaningful relationships - firmly on the public agenda.

In partnership with Brighton & Hove Buses, the roadshow features a specially designed, beach-themed double-decker bus that doubles as a mobile community hub. Fully accessible and dementia-friendly, the bus will stop at key locations across the city including Moulsecoomb, Whitehawk, Churchill Square, and culminate at Brighton Palace Pier (where these photos were taken).

Television presenter and Together Co ambassador Gail Porter will join charity staff, volunteers and community partners along the route. Visitors are invited to climb aboard for a chat, learn more about Together Co’s work, or find out how to get involved as a volunteer. Founded in 1999, Together Co has supported thousands across Brighton & Hove through befriending, social prescribing and volunteering programmes.

Its work, the organisation says, has never been more relevant, with recent research showing that nearly half of adults in England experience feelings of loneliness at some point. Together Co CEO April Baker said, ‘This roadshow is about Together Co being out in the community, on the move, meeting people where they are. We want to celebrate what we have achieved with the help of our volunteers and supporters over the past 25 years, and to invite everyone to be a part of what comes next.’

Together Co is always looking for new ways to spread its message. In April 2024, to celebrate the Grand’s 160th anniversary, Together Co hosted an afternoon tea at the iconic hotel. It attracted 160 guests and performances including the Brighton Welsh Male Voice Choir. In November, it is celebrating its 25th anniversary with a gala on the pier. This will be themed, appropriately, as ‘All the Fun of the Fair’ - think Moulin Rouge meets Cabaret, it suggests. 

Classic Car Run

The annual London to Brighton Classic Car Run returned to Madeira Drive today in a glorious blur of polished chrome, growling engines and retro styling. This long-standing favourite on the UK motoring calendar brings together classic car enthusiasts from across the country and beyond, for a scenic drive that concludes at Brighton Beach.

The event was first held in 1988, designed to complement the Veteran Car Run (for pre-1905 vehicles) and give post-war classics their own moment in the sun (or rain!). Starting at Brooklands Museum in Surrey - itself a landmark of British motoring history - the route leads participants through picturesque countryside and historic villages, before finishing at the traditional motor venue of Madeira Drive. With the South Downs in full early summer bloom, the scenic aspect is no afterthought, it is said, but motoring as leisure, not speed. Participants receive a commemorative plaque, a rally board, and a route book complete with historical notes.

Entry is open to a wide range of vehicles - typically those built before 1973, although this cut-off can shift slightly to accommodate newer classics. Over the years, the event has grown to include the Kit & Sports Car Run and Modern Classics Run. On arrival in Brighton, participants park up along Madeira Drive to the delight of the waiting crowds, who are free to wander among the cars, and to chat with drivers of the lovingly-maintained vehicles.

Today’s display included several Ford Escorts in eye-popping hues - a lime green Mexico, a tangerine RS2000, and a glossy red custom job with the bonnet proudly lifted to show off its gleaming engine bay. Just a few cars down, a cream Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith (late 1940s or early 1950s) garnished with white floral garlands showed off its wide curving haunches - perhaps, a study in postwar elegance.

Over the decades, the Classic Car Run has built up its own mythology. There was the time when a fleet of Morris Minors took a wrong turn and arrived triumphantly from the wrong end of the promenade. And then there was the Triumph Herald that boiled over just yards from the finish line, only to be pushed across by its laughing, Union Jack-draped crew. In 2017, a 1950s Bentley was delayed by a flock of sheep crossing a Sussex lane; the driver simply tipped his cap and declared, ‘Motoring as it should be - unpredictable and utterly British.’

See also the Historic Commercial Vehicle Run.

The Kemp Town Lift

The Kemp Town (or Madeira) Lift was opened 135 years ago this very day. Located on Brighton’s East Cliff, it was built to connect Marine Parade above with Madeira Drive below, offering practical access to the seafront at a time when Brighton was rapidly expanding as a Victorian resort.

The lift was part of a larger project initiated under the Brighton Improvement Act of 1884. Alongside the lift, work began on the Madeira Terrace and Shelter Hall - structures designed to enhance the eastern stretch of the promenade. Construction of the lift began in the late 1880s and was completed in time for its opening on 24 May 1890. It is made up of a three-stage tower with a pagoda-style roof and originally featured a square-faced clock, now missing. Its roof is topped by a dolphin weather vane, and the structure is notable for its ornamental cast-iron framework

The full length of Madeira Terrace, which the lift forms a central part of, was completed in 1897. The East Cliff had already undergone major changes by this time. A sea wall, constructed in 1870 using stone from the demolished first Blackfriars Bridge in London, provided a foundation for further development. The Kemp Town estate, built between 1823 and 1855, had established the area as a fashionable part of Brighton. The lift was designed to complement this setting, with an ornamental roof, cast-iron framework, and panoramic views of the coast.

In 1971, Madeira Terrace and the lift were granted Grade II* listed status by English Heritage, recognising their architectural and historical value. Bizarrely, perhaps, access to the beach level of the lift is via Concorde, a music venue. According to Atlas Obscura, there is ‘chest-thumping music from about ten in the morning onwards’, and the interior of the club is painted black and purple ‘suitably oppressive and doom-laden, even in bright sunshine and despite its sixteen-foot ceilings’. Historically (at times prior to Concorde), the beach level building served as a waiting room and as a cafe.

The lift structure - like the rest of the terraces - has suffered from long periods of neglect. The lift was closed in 2007 due to safety concerns. It reopened briefly in 2009 after structural repairs, but further deterioration led to more closures. In 2012, Madeira Walk and the upper deck were also shut. Limited restoration in 2013 allowed a temporary reopening, but by 2023, the lift had once again been closed indefinitely due to shaft damage.

Over the years, attempts have been made to maintain and manage the lift, including a period of operation by Concorde. However, ongoing maintenance has remained a challenge. In 2019, over ten tonnes of lead and copper were stolen from the lift and surrounding shelters, worsening its condition. As of March 2025, Brighton & Hove City Council has launched a new restoration project for the eastern seafront - see Madeira Terrace restoration - hurrah! and Progress on the Madeira arches.

Historic commercial vehicles

Historic commercial vehicles - vans, trucks, lorries, fire engines, coaches/buses, steam wagons, many in bright-coloured liveries - lit up the Brighton seafront today, west of the pier. Arriving from around 10 am, they rolled in along Madeira Drive, sometimes stuttering, sometimes juddering, but every one clean and bright as a button, loved and cherished for their connections with our past. 

The London to Brighton Historic Commercial Vehicle Run is an annual event celebrating Britain’s rich commercial motoring heritage. Organised by the Historic Commercial Vehicle Society (HCVS), the run showcases a diverse array of vintage commercial vehicles. The inaugural run took place on 13 May 1962, initiated by the HCVS, which itself was launched in 1958 following a rally at Beaulieu (where the National Motor Museum had been founded by Lord Montagu in 1952). The event has grown in popularity, with the 60th run in 2022 featuring 170 entrants. 

Last year, 2024, HCVS relocated the starting point of the run from Crystal Palace to Brooklands Museum in Weybridge, Surrey. The change was implemented to avoid London’s Ultra Low Emission Zone (ULEZ) and various lorry restrictions, making it more accessible for vintage vehicles. Participants now follow a route through Cobham, Leatherhead, Dorking, Redhill, Horley, Balcombe, Cuckfield, Burgess Hill before joining the A23 at a Pycombe for the last stage to Madeira Drive on the seafront in Brighton.

Photos of some of today’s participants:

(Above) - a preserved British double-decker bus (1930s-1950s), a type that became iconic in UK public transport, especially in cities like London. The livery advertises Tampon’s Ales and Ty-Phoo Tea, both classic British brands.

(Top left) - a historic steam traction engine, a type of self-propelled steam-powered vehicle used primarily for agricultural and heavy haulage work in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

(Top right) - a Fordson E83W, a light commercial vehicle produced by Ford between 1938 and 1957. This example is a flatbed pickup, often used for small deliveries and local business use. The E83W is known for its rounded cab, separate headlamps, and classic upright grille.

(Bottom left) - a classic single-deck coach, likely from the 1950s or 1960s, used for longer-distance travel and private hire. The red and cream paintwork is a common style for British and European coaches of the era, designed to be both attractive and easily identifiable.

(Bottom right) - a classic Scammell lorry, a British brand renowned for heavy haulage and specialist vehicles, particularly from the 1920s through the 1980s. Scammell vehicles of this era were notable for their robust construction and were often used for demanding transport tasks, including oversized cargo and military equipment

Quirky fact: In the 5th run, Lord Montagu drove a 1908 Unic taxi (French made), accompanied by London’s oldest taxi driver, with the fare for the entire distance clocked at 13 shillings. 

200 black body bags

Ten years ago this month, some 200 black body bags were lined up on Brighton Beach, just east of Palace Pier, in a haunting performance staged by Amnesty International to highlight Britain’s ‘shameful’ response to the escalating migrant crisis in the Mediterranean. The protest came in the wake of a devastating shipwreck off the coast of Libya, where approximately 800 migrants lost their lives. Both The Guardian and the BBC covered the stunt at the time. And Amnesty International, itself, has now revisited the issue with a press release looking at progress made in saving lives in the Med. Nevertheless, according to the International Maritime Organisation more than 30,000 migrants have gone missing in the Mediterranean since 2014!

This photograph was published in The Guardian with credit to Tom Pugh/PA; and the photograph below it comes from the Amnesty website.

Back in April 2015, Amnesty supporters not only arranged the 200 body bags in rows but also zipped themselves into some of them, symbolising solidarity with the deceased. A funeral wreath was placed among the bags, and a banner reading #DontLetThemDrown was displayed prominently.​ Amnesty’s UK director, Kate Allen, was quoted as saying: ‘Until now, the British government’s response has been shameful but finally foreign ministers seem to be waking up to the need to act. EU governments must now urgently turn their rhetoric into action to stop more people drowning on their way to Europe.’

The demonstration was timed to coincide with emergency EU talks addressing the migrant crisis. Amnesty International criticised the UK government’s decision to scale back search and rescue operations in the Mediterranean, arguing that such actions contributed to the increasing death toll. The organisation called for a more compassionate and proactive approach to the humanitarian disaster unfolding at Europe’s borders.​

In a statement issued on 1 April 2025, Amnesty revisited its campaign starting with the body bags stunt, and drew attention to the UK’s deployment of HMS Bulwark, which has rescued over 4,000 people. Amnesty, it says, is advocating for ‘safe and legal routes for asylum-seekers, fair responsibility-sharing among European countries, and increased resettlement places to address the wider issues causing these deaths’.

The UK, of course, has been grappling with a surge in small boat crossings across the English Channel. As of April 2025, over 7,200 migrants have arrived via this perilous route, marking a 31% increase from the previous year (though there are hardly any recorded instances of landings on Brighton Beach).