Brighton’s first ever RNLI boat

According to the RNLI web page on the history of the Brighton Lifeboat Station, it is 200 years ago this very day (30 January) that the newly-launched Royal National Institution for the Preservation of Life from Shipwreck (RNIPLS) established its first lifeboat on Brighton Beach. And it was only last year that the RNLI as a whole celebrated the 200th anniversary of its founding - it used this 1904 colourised photograph of the then new lifeboat at Brighton in its publicity for the occasion. In 2024, the organisation boasted 238 lifeboat stations (UK and Ireland) and more than 240 beach lifeguard units. Moreover, the RNLI claims its lifeboat crews and lifeguards have saved over 146,000 lives over the last two centuries. (See also RNLI to take over beach safety.)

Brighton’s very first lifeboat, according to Wikipedia, was a 22-foot vessel designed by Henry Greathead and transferred from Newhaven. It was not, however, well-suited for local waters and by 1816 had fallen into disuse. In 1824, the RNIPLS was founded. Early in 1825, it established a Brighton branch and, on 30 January, installed its first lifeboat, housed in a cave near the Chain Pier. The facility was closed in 1837 due to construction of Madeira Drive. Subsequently, various organisations - including the Brighton Humane Society and Brighton Town Council - operated their own private lifeboats.

The Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI), which succeeded the RNIPLS in 1854, opened a new station in Brighton in 1858 with the town council providing a space on the beach, opposite the Bedford Hotel and close to the West Pier. The first lifeboat here was a 30-foot self-righting vessel, but, according to Wikipedia, was never named, and only made three service launches. The station was moved in 1868, and then again in 1886 after the building of groynes on the beach (which hampered lifeboat movement). The new station this time was located on the Western Esplanade, between the piers, employing two of the spacious arches that were being constructed as part of seafront re-developments.

Arch 109 was used to house the RNLI’s lifeboat whilst arch 110 was used to store equipment. Meanwhile, the town council operated its own lifeboat from arch 111. The site was used continually until 1931 when the RNLI withdrew and consolidated its operations at a newly-built station in Shoreham with a motor lifeboat. Thereafter, Brighton had no lifeboats for more than 30 years, but, in 1975, donations by patrons of a public house in London called The Rising Sun, helped purchase a new boat, housed east of the Palace Pier. This served until a station at the new Marina was in operation.

Since 2011, Brighton Lifeboat Station has employed an Atlantic 85-class inshore lifeboat named Random Harvest. The station averages around 60 rescues annually within two miles of its base at the Marina.

The old arches - since the 1930s - have been occupied by Brighton Sailing Club. On the wall between arches 109 and 110 is a very worn plaque, more or less unreadable today. It records the lifeboat Robert Raikes which, in 1867, replaced three lifeboats that had been serving the town. Raikes was the founder of the Sunday School movement, and part of the funds for the boat had been raised by Sunday School children. Apparently, on the back wall of one of the arches there still remains a large ring anchored into the masonry, used to haul the lifeboat back into the arch.

i360 stranded sky high - with sky-high debts

Less than 10 years since a mirrored doughnut carried its first passengers high into the sky, the infamous i360 has become stranded there. The 162-meter observation tower opened in 2016 as a bold, futuristic addition to Brighton’s seafront. Designed by the creators of the London Eye, it promised stunning views from its observation car (the doughnut on a stick!), and a boost to local tourism. However, the project quickly ran into trouble, plagued by technical issues, long queues, and underwhelming visitor numbers. 

A click on the company’s website now provides no more than a brief stark announcement: ‘Steve Absolom and Will Wright were appointed Joint Administrators of Brighton I-360 Limited - in Administration (the ‘Company’) on 20 December 2024 and as a result the Company has ceased trading immediately. Please direct all queries to Brightoni360@interpath.com.’

The structure, reportedly, cost £46m, partly paid for with a whopping £36m loan from the Public Works Loan Board via Brighton & Hove City Council. The then council leader, Simon Burgess, predicted the facility would ‘transform the city’ and generate significant revenue. For its first five years it was glamorously sponsored by British Airways, but early technical faults and financial difficulties seemed to bode less than well. 

In December 2022, the attraction defaulted on its council debt, and in November 2024, Brighton i360 Ltd filed for administration - citing (rather lamely don’t you think) rising costs, unfavourable weather, and the cost-of-living crisis. On 20 December, it closed abruptly, with all 100 plus employees made redundant. Brighton & Hove City Council announced an inquiry into the closure, and it revealed that the owners owed the council a staggering £51 million. The council, which pays £2.2 million annually for the loan until 2040, faces significant financial repercussions. Deputy leader Jacob Taylor described the investment as having been ‘a financial disaster for the council.’

And a long-term eyesore to boot. It seems I was calling the i360 an eyesore before it was even completed. Here’s an entry from my diary, a few weeks before the opening.

20 July 2016

‘The i360 is soon to open, I read in the ‘Argus’, and tickets have gone on sale for the 20 minute ‘flight’. It’s owned or operated by British Airways, and has some slick advertising and promotion, but I take exception to the idea that it’s a vertical ‘pier’, and that where Victorians walked out above the sea, we can now walk on air. That might have some truth if the floor were glass and transparent, but I’m pretty sure it’s not. The pod can hold up to 200 people - that wouldn’t be much fun would it. And £13.50-15 for an adult ticket! For 20 minutes entertainment, and nothing more than a view. A) piers were never that expensive, and B) there was no time limit, and C) most piers had/have different kinds of entertainment, things to see/do. Pah! is all I can say. And I’ve come to see the tall column, with its teeny-weeny pod when seen from afar, as a bit of an eyesore.’

In 2015, during construction of the i360, there was some very colorful wall art on the surrounding fencing. I photographed it for my blog Graffiti Brighton. Here’s a sample.

Whistle, hoot, whistle

Whistle, hoot, whistle. This first BrightonBeach365 post is my humble contribution to the start of nationwide celebrations to mark 200 years of UK rail travel. The first event took place today at midday: a combined whistle blowing from all available heritage railway locomotives. And the famous Volk’s Electric Railway - which runs along the beach from the Aquarium to Black Rock - took part. The Volk’s Electric Railway Association (VERA) stated: ‘As you know our Volk’s cars don’t have whistles so we will be sounding all available warning devices (klaxons and horns) from the available Volk’s fleet outside the depot at Halfway (Peter Pans) at 12 noon.’

Though not, in fact, going back anywhere near two centuries, Volk’s claim to fame is for being the oldest operating ELECTRIC railway IN THE WORLD (or ON THE PLANET as David Attenborough might say). It was opened by Brighton born inventor Magnus Volk in 1883, passed briefly to his son on his death in 1937, and then, the year after, to Brighton Corporation (which became Brighton & Hove City Council). It’s closed for the winter, but an excellent pictorial essay on the railway’s history can be found at VERA’s website.

This New Year morning has proved an inauspicious start to the BrightonBeach365 project. I could barely cycle down to the sea front because the wind was gusting so strongly, at over 40 mph. On the pebbles it was super-windy, freezing to the hands, mist limiting not-so-distant vision, and monstrous, grisly waves rolling in, threatening DANGER banners put out by the coastguard. 

Whistle, hoot, whistle.