Growing up by the sea* in Cleethorpes was a magical, formative honour. It shaped the way I saw the world and, even as a long-committed city dweller, if I am away from water for too long, my soul dehydrates.

Cleethorpes beach is flat and inviting, its dunes and creek perfectly placed to delight. Its tide, however, plays dirty, silently double-crossing** you as it slips past your feet, transforming sandbanks to islands and stranding you perilously in the blink of an eye. As a child, respect for this danger was drummed into us by parents, teachers, and coastguards alike. It taught us respect for the conditions, caution while playing, and the confidence to shout authoritatively at people from Yorkshire.

Cleethorpes Rallies

It was why the community pushed so hard to bring back a permanent Inshore Lifeboat station to the town in the 1980s. Led by the indefatigable Chairlady of the Cleethorpes Fundraising Branch, Mary Thomas BEM, a host of local events were organised***, until the required target of £45,000 was successfully met. On 29 June 1987, a call-out to a burning speedboat next to Cleethorpes Pier interrupted the dedication ceremony for the brand-new D-class lifeboat, Tricentrol (D-339), a timely start to its work in the muddy, fast-moving currents of the Humber. Over the years, the crew launched over 1,500 times, earning multiple awards for gallantry and saving over 250 lives.

By 2022, the modern demands of the Humber outmatched the old station, and construction began on a brand-new, £4 million purpose-built home to replace it. As in Mary’s day, a true team effort funded it, central RNLI reserves bolstered by a staggering £200,000 in local fundraising. Opened in 2025, the new station is a stunning architectural upgrade where the trusty D-class has been joined by a B-class Atlantic 85. I won’t go full lifeboat nerd on you, but trust me, it’s a beast. Both are launchable from a direct-to-sea slipway, ensuring the fastest possible response, and the entire station is a thing of beauty.

From the Humber to the Lizard

As fascinating as this all is****, those still with me may be asking what this has to do with an “excellent debut novel full of pace and warmth”. Well, from that 1980s push onwards, I became an enthusiastic supporter of the RNLI. When I wrote Sienna Fitch, with Southern Cornwall’s majestic coast at the heart of the story*****, I knew I wanted to pay tribute to this remarkable institution, highlighting the selfless service of the women and men who go out to sea, and the shore crew and families who support them. Sienna’s uncle, Andy embodies the bravery, resilience and fortitude of these volunteers and I hope my words have done their service justice. Excitingly, I recently met a real-life version of him at the Lizard Lifeboat Station in Cornwall, but more about that here.

ANYWAY, to put my money where my mouth is (well, yours technically, but we’ll get to that) I have created a new page for all things RNLI. Here, you can learn all about my recent visit to the Lizard Station, find links and information on fundraising, and get the chance to receive the e-book version of Sienna Fitch or other bonus content as a thank you for donating directly to the charity.

Come on, you know you want to… CLICK ME. (PLEASE). →

I have always been a big fan of twinning...

First, my nephews are the greatest set ever born. Don’t @ me.

Second, my wonderful hometown of Cleethorpes has been twinned with Königswinter in Germany since 1974. One of the most active and enduring of such partnerships, its roots go back to the youth exchange trips of the 1960s that were so successful the towns made it official.

Put a ring on it, if you will...

Inspiring, some forty-one years later, my beloved German husband to do the same (you see what I did there) after meeting at the wedding of my exchange partner Anne, his dear childhood friend, and despite his controversial decision to take part in the French exchange himself.

It was Cognac, to be fair, but I digress...

And what does all this have to do with Sienna, you ask? Well, her stories began in and around the spectacular landscape of Cornwall’s Lizard Peninsula, the southernmost tip of mainland UK. Unfortunately, this magnificent place was hard enough to get to even when I lived in London. Moving to Berlin added further complexity to the mix, especially in those years when international travel was a little more complicated, shall we say? So, when writing the novelisation, I went on the hunt for the Lizard’s twin, its German exchange partner.

This made for an interesting challenge. Germany is surrounded by nine different countries, or ten, if you count Bavaria*, leaving very little room for coastline (2,389km to the UK’s 12,000km) and narrowing the search to just three northern states. And then, at the very top of the country, I discovered it, a little** island called Rügen.

There, alongside the beautiful towns of Binz, Sellin and Sassnitz, you’ll find Jasmund, Germany's smallest national park and home to some of the most breathtaking coastal scenery in northern Europe. And rocks. And beaches. And crashing waves. And mystery. And that I’ve-been-here-before-even-though-I-haven’t feeling. And my search was over. I had found it.

Now, I return time and again to write, seek inspiration, and, if we’re being very honest, collect some of the best thinking pebbles*** ever. It sates a certain homesickness that never really leaves me.

These two peninsulas: Lizard, forged from the brooding darkness of its ancient serpentine, and Jasmund, risen from the ethereal white chalk of a prehistoric sea floor. Geographic opposites that somehow share a soul, a feeling, a connection. A place for those of us who sometimes need to stand at the edge of the earth to feel at home.

And the closest thing to Porthpenn without a passport...