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Retired lighthouse keeper Harold Taylor continues his memoirs:-
Eventually I had to get a taxi, and although I was really late for the train and had prepared to catch a later one to London, I was in a certain amount of luck, for there had been a derailment at Shoreham and I was able to catch the delayed Cardiff to Brighton steamer, which was faster and I picked up my original connection.
Another was quite weird. The winter timetable had come into force before I was due to catch the bus to Lancing Station. This was a circular route that went all around and back to Worthing. When the bus got as far as North Lancing Church it turned left, which was new to me, but I presumed it was part of the new service.
When it continued to go straight on I got bit worried, as did the driver when he ran out of road and met a grass track leading up to Lancing Ring. He had to back until he could turn in a side road before continuing on his way. I now became aware that the driver had been drinking and was a relief driver on a strange route.
The conductor was only a young fellow who did not know the route, both having been brought in at short notice. There were only three passengers on the bus, one whom soon got off, I myself who was getting off at Lancing, and a now agitated young lady who wanted to get to Worthing Hospital. When I left I gave them both; that is the conductor and her, directions for getting to where they wanted in case the driver got lost again.
Since the occasion that Marks the fisherman had come out to the 'stone' with the milk we had worked out a good rapport with him and from then on we had our mail addressed to his house. As he passed by, we would exchange mail by line, but some people are never satisfied. We would have some who complained if he did not call when it was rough.
Whilst I was on the 'stone' I still continued to have pretensions that I would continue with my walking athleticism. I had continued practising on Bardsey, and on the Breakwater. I had twice competed in the Hastings to Brighton race, a distance of 38 miles, the second time I had to withdraw after 25. On the 'stone' I would walk round and round the base, in fine weather, the distance was 42yards.
Whilst on leave, three of the four week-ends I used to turn out for training, although latterly I used to escort the blind walkers from St Dunstan's. Whether it was from this or someone passing in a boat, but around this time a cartoon appeared in a paper which showed some similar action
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