It is winter after all

Dawn and a low tide on Brighton Beach

Sands uncovered squelching under foot

Ripples rather than waves gently rolling to the pebbles

Wind but a breeze yet a cold edge to its freshness

It is winter after all

To the west, two piers, one visible through the other

Silhouette structures, rusting geometries

A lone metal detectorist, equipped and earnest

Patterned reflections, dark and grey

It is winter after all

To the east, a rising sun so gold it could be rich

Laying down its lights and beams for all to see

And a column of fiery blazing sand 

Inviting you to walk that way, to burn

It is winter after all

 

 

Stained glass window 1

In the beginning, piers were built as landing stages for boats, though they evolved into promenades where people could enjoy the sea and the sea air without getting wet. However, there is another way of looking at piers: as the elongation of beaches. In this, I am with Rachel Carson who wrote, in her 1955 book The Edge of the Sea: ‘A pier is but a pathway for those who wish to walk where the land meets the sea, a man-made extension of the beach’s timeless conversation with the tide.’

Thus, just as I have defined the limits east and west for BrightonBeach356 - see How long is Brighton Beach? - I am now stating my intention to consider the piers as part of Brighton Beach, a la Carson!

Moreover, I am also revealing an intention to run a series of posts inspired by the much over-looked stained glass windows in the Palace of Fun building on Brighton Pier. There are 45 windows, though two have slats rather than glass, and there are 24 designs in two sizes. Most designs appear twice, and the duplicates are sometimes reversed or with a slight detail change. 

These beautiful and characterful stained glass designs seem to have been cheapened by their amusement arcade surrounds, and forgotten over time - I can find no evidence of them being designed or installed, I will, however, have more to say forthwith about these windows. Meanwhile, over the 365 days of 2025, AI and I will endeavour to let each one inspire their own daily post. 

A limerick starter

Two windmills stood high on the hill,

Turning round with a whistling thrill.

They spun day and night,

With the sea in their sight,

And they never, not once, stood still!

The Windmills and the Sea (in the style of D. H. Lawrence)

The wind rushed over the rolling hills, bending the grasses with its force, carrying the scent of the distant sea. Mary stood at the crest of the land, watching the twin windmills turning - slow, steady, relentless. They had always been there, just as her father had always been at sea, just as her mother had always stood at this same window, waiting.

Below, the land curved in smooth undulations of green and brown, reaching towards the edge where the cliffs met the vast expanse of blue-grey water. The tide was coming in, waves curling against the rocks with a kind of eternal purpose, much like the windmills.

She had grown up in their shadow, listening to their groaning creak as they spun in the wind, their movements as inevitable as the cycle of seasons. They stood like sentinels, watching over the land and the sea alike. But today, Mary felt a change. There was something different in the air, a charge beneath the steady rhythm of the blades slicing through the sky.

A figure moved near the base of the western mill - Samuel. His presence always unsettled her, a shadow in the otherwise predictable landscape. He was a man of the land, thick-shouldered, hands rough from work, and yet his eyes carried something deeper, something searching.

‘You’re watching the sea again,’ he said as he came closer, wiping sweat from his brow.

She did not turn. ‘The tide’s changing.’

He followed her gaze. ‘It always does.’

She wanted to tell him about the feeling in her chest, the stirring that had begun to take root ever since she had received word of her father’s ship - lost. Not wrecked, not sunk, just. . . missing. Somewhere beyond the horizon. She wanted to tell him that she felt as if the windmills, steady and ceaseless, were whispering something new today.

But instead, she said, ‘One day, I will leave.’

Samuel’s hands tensed at his sides. ‘And where would you go?’

She exhaled, watching the windmills, the sea, the endless sky. ‘Anywhere the wind takes me.’

A gust of wind rushed over them, and the great wooden blades groaned, turning, turning - just as they always had, just as they always would.

And yet, for the first time, Mary felt something shift.

‘Big move forward’ for Alfred

After more than 20 years of proposals, plans, financial crises and hot air, a new £47m plan for rebuilding the near derelict King Alfred Leisure Centre, agreed last July, is on the move. Brighton & Hove City Council has just announced the appointment of Alliance Leisure to lead the design and build of the new Alfred. Alliance Leisure is described as the ‘UK’s leading leisure development specialist’ having delivered more than 260 such projects in the last 25 years.

Originally built in 1939 as the Hove Marina, the facility was ready to open its doors when World War II broke out. The Royal Navy immediately commandeered the building, transforming it into a training centre, and as such it was commissioned as HMS King Alfred (after the King that is often given credit for founding England’s first navy). Initially,  after the war, the swimming pools were filled with filtered seawater. However, this salty setup was decommissioned in 1977, and after a £4 million redevelopment, the pools reopened in 1980 using fresh water. 

In the mid-1980s, three water slides were built onto the east side, feeding into a plunge pool. These were named ‘The Black Hole’, the red ‘Aqua-jet’, and the yellow ‘Twister’ for beginners. They gave the building a good deal of external character. Unfortunately, though, they did not last well: health and safety concerns led to their closure in late 2000 and their eventual removal in 2009. Some say, they were gobbled up by the (mini-golf) dinosaurs that now roam freely on that side of the building. 

Over recent years, the centre has attracted numerous redevelopment proposals. In 2003, ambitious £290 million plans by Frank Gehry, including two twenty-storey towers, were accepted but later dropped due to the 2008 financial crisis. In 2016, new redevelopment plans by Haworth Tompkins were selected, featuring 560 flats and ‘world-class leisure and community facilities’, but these too fell by the wayside.

In April 2023, plans for a new leisure centre emerged, including an eight-lane 25-metre competition swimming pool and an eight-court sports hall. In August 2024, the council approved plans to demolish the existing centre and replace it with a new £47 million complex, scheduled for completion in 2028. 

Alliance Leisure has now just been the appointed delivery partner under the streamlined procurement procedures (in place under the so-called UK Leisure Framework). Announced partners include: GT3 Architects, civil and structural engineers Engenuiti, the engineering consultancy Van Zyl & de Villiers, and Hadron Consulting as technical project manager.

Councillor Alan Robins said: ‘I’m really pleased to have Alliance Leisure on the project. I’ve seen what they’ve delivered elsewhere - and they understand the challenges that are unique to the sector better than anyone. [. . .] The 80-year-old King Alfred Leisure Centre is beyond the end of its life and challenging to operate, but it remains one of the most well-used facilities in the city. We’ll continue to do what we can to keep it open for as long as feasible, while we progress our exciting new plans.’

See also the council’ Sports Facilities Investment Plan 2021-31, and a superb history of King Alfred’s with many old photographs at Judy Middleton’s Hove in the Past website.

Given that the leisure centre is only a pebble’s throw from the pebbles, and taking a lead, perhaps, from Sea Lanes further east, the new building could embrace the idea of large windows to the south, allowing swimmers to feel part of the great salty setup beyond. 

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.

Not the Mary Clarke Park

The Kingsway to the Sea project in West Hove is making significant strides, with the new outdoor sports hub looking good and nearing completion. This ambitious £13.7 million initiative, primarily funded by a £9.5 million grant from the government’s Levelling Up Fund, aims to rejuvenate the beach and seafront zone between the King Alfred Leisure Centre and Hove Lagoon. In 2024, the name Mary Clarke Park only just lost out in a vote to rename the project area.

The outdoor sports hub is set to become a focal point of the whole development. It will feature a new cafe with a terrace, public toilets, changing facilities, and a new home for the bowls club. Beyond the sports hub, the project encompasses a revitalised park stretching from Hove Lagoon to the King Alfred Leisure Centre, offering dedicated spaces for various activities. There will, of course, be new greens for bowling (a sport which dominated the Western Lawns since the Edwardian era). But there will also be a croquet lawn, padel tennis courts, sand courts, a new skate park, and a 150-meter-long pump track. 

Approximately 40,000 square meters of green space will be restored, Morgan Sindell, the constructors say, with new trees and flowers planted to achieve a Biodiversity Net Gain. The design includes new gardens serving as oasis areas, providing tranquil spots for relaxation amidst the bustling seafront. A new, accessible route will run through most of the park, allowing visitors to navigate the area without needing to venture onto Kingsway or the Esplanade. New benches, too, are being installed among the mulch, grass tufts, and young trees. With wooden slats and an orange-painted metal frame they reflect contemporary public seating trends, blending natural materials with vibrant, durable metals.

Local organisations - the West Hove Seafront Action Group and the West Hove Forum for example - have actively participated in shaping the Kingsway to the Sea project. And, early last year, the public were involved in voting for a new name for the area. Hove Beach Park came top with 23% of the votes, beating Mary Clarke Park into second place (19%). Which is a shame, because Mary Clarke Park has such a nice ring to it; moreover, Clarke was a key Brighton figure in suffragette history: she was the younger sister of Emmeline Pankhurst; and she died two days after leaving prison, becoming the first suffragette martyr in history.

The Red Spider

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a pebble-strewn beach, particularly one as lively as Brighton’s, must conceal treasures of singular peculiarity. It was on a brisk and clear morning, with the waves curling gently against the shore, that Miss Cordelia Calder - an accomplished young lady of both artistic disposition and sensible manners - happened upon an object so extraordinary as to defy reason.

There, amidst the dulcet tones of the sea and the chatter of Brighton’s fashionable promenaders, lay a red spider, crafted not of flesh and limb, but of knotted cord. Its crude appearance might, to an untrained eye, have been dismissed as flotsam, but to Miss Calder, it bespoke a story yet untold. With a sense of gentle curiosity, she stooped to retrieve the curious artefact, feeling a slight but distinct chill as her fingers closed around its threads.

It was not long before she perceived that the beach itself seemed altered. The ordinary murmur of the waves grew distant, replaced by an eerie stillness. The pebbles at her feet glimmered faintly, and the horizon shimmered as though the veil of reality had been lifted. Miss Calder, though accustomed to the occasional oddities of seaside leisure, could not but feel a tremor of unease. Yet her natural composure prevailed, and she continued to examine the spider with interest.

Presently, she was startled by the appearance of a figure - an elderly gentleman of dignified yet sea-weathered countenance, his coat stitched with patches that seemed to glisten like the scales of a fish. He regarded Miss Calder with an air of benevolent authority.

‘Madam,’ he began, in a voice that seemed to echo with the cadence of the tide, ‘you have stumbled upon the Red Spider, a keeper of dreams and a weaver of destiny. It is no small thing to hold, for its threads bind those who encounter it to the whims of the sea.’

Miss Calder, though perplexed, replied with characteristic civility. ‘Indeed, sir, I find myself most intrigued by your account. Yet I am at a loss to comprehend how so small and unassuming an object could wield such extraordinary influence.’

The gentleman inclined his head. ‘It is the nature of the sea, Miss Calder, to conceal its grandeur in humble forms. The Spider has lain here for many an age, awaiting one with the vision to perceive its worth. It offers a choice: to remain in your present life, unaltered, or to embrace its power and embark upon a journey of imagination and consequence, one that will forever alter the course of your days.’

Miss Calder, though possessing a practical mind, was not insensible to the allure of adventure. She considered the gentleman’s words with due deliberation, her artist’s soul stirred by the prospect of a destiny intertwined with the fantastical. At length, she spoke.

‘Sir, I am grateful for your counsel, and I confess my heart is moved by the promise of such a journey. Yet I would not take this path without the means to share its wonders with others, for it is my belief that art and imagination must be devoted to the enrichment of society.’

The gentleman’s weathered features softened into a smile. ‘Your wish is wise, and it shall be granted. Take the Spider and, with it, the gift to weave the dreams of the sea into your art. Use it well, and the world shall be all the richer for your vision.’

With a bow, the gentleman vanished, leaving Miss Calder alone once more on the beach. The Red Spider lay in her hand, its cords warm now, as if infused with life. Though she returned to her lodgings that day with no outward sign of adventure, her subsequent works - a series of paintings and tales suffused with the ethereal beauty of the sea - captivated all who beheld them, securing her place among the foremost artists and authors of her time.

And the Red Spider? It remained with her, a silent guardian of a dream once dreamed and a secret now held.

With a nod to ChatGPT, and apologies to Jane.

161, what have you done?

Strolling along the wide Hove esplanade is always a pleasure. This morning, there was a roaring wild sea on the one side, with many a pebbles having been thrown up on the walkway, scattered, and of course the uniformly aligned and very colourful beach huts on the other. It’s hard not to notice that despite a rainbow selection of colours on the doors, there’s little in the way of pattern. All doors are either a single colour or have vertical stripes of varied or less varied colours. 

However, I found one exception this morning - beach hut 161. My immediate thought was - what have you done? Yes, it has stripes, but there’s another pattern going on too. Is that a selection of coloured pebbles scattered across the stripes, trying to organise themselves into vertical lines, trying hard to comply with the rules?

Brighton & Hove Council, of course, has a regulation on the look of beach huts. Pre-2021, they all had to be exactly the same colour, but the rules were changed so that now the roof and upper sides must be painted in a specific turquoise colour, while the Plinth and lower sides must be painted in a specific red colour. Doors, however, can be painted in any single solid colour or vertically striped in multiple colours. Good luck 161, in your endeavours to fit in and yet not fit in.

Meanwhile, it you are thinking of getting your hands on a Hove beach hut, you would probably need to pay upwards of £20,000, that’s if you can find any for sale. Moreover, there’s an annual license fee currently standing at around £500, and a transfer fee which has recently increased to 10% of the sale price or four times the annual licence fee, whichever is higher. Renting could be an option but that would cost you £1,731.89 annually!