They say that all roads lead to Rome, but for an unlucky car transport driver, the road led to a dead end on Sunderland Point, a tidal island close to Heysham Port.
There was an accident blocking the Trumacar roundabout. George Gardin looked for a route that went around it. He steered down narrow lanes, around the tight bends in the village of Overton, over a cattle grate, down another even narrower lane, over a causeway (luckily or unluckily the tide was out) ,over a shingle beach, past the houses on First Terrace, down a ramp onto another beach and along Second Terrace until he saw a gate. George then realized that he was lost and tried to turn around, but it was impossible.
Gladys Porter, aged 69, was watching ‘The Last Night of the Proms’ in her 17th century stone barn conversion on Second Terrace. Even though she detested the flag waving morons who bopped up and down to the ‘Sailor’s Hornpipe’, she enjoyed the Proms, perhaps because her mother had loved them even though she was a staunch Irish nationalist. The TV audio was turned to the maximum, but Gladys heard something outside. She opened her front door and tried to make sense of what she was seeing. A car transport, loaded with at least ten cars and vans, was tearing up the commons in an attempt to reverse into the tiny alley between the barn and the flats. The driver gave up and came down from his cab while “Land of Hope and Glory” blasted through Gladys’ door.
George tried to sleep in his cab. In the morning, Gladys brought him a bacon and egg sandwich and a cup of tea. She felt sorry for him. To Gladys, he looked like a nervous twelve-year-old. When George finished eating, he called for a rescue.
The rescuers laughed at George and called him an idiot. They told him to unload the cars and to make it snappy before the tide covered the causeway. George tried his best, but his nerves were shot. He got half the cars off before he had to grab his things and leave with the rescuers.
The residents of Sunderland Point had something to talk about. How had it happened? How could it be turned around? Everybody had an idea. An American visitor suggested Chinook helicopters and a pontoon roadway. Of course, there was talk of salvage like in the old days when foundering ships were easy pickings.
The transporter sat there for days until a loose plan was conceived. A giant tow truck and a tractor arrived. The transporter reversed to the ramp where it was pulled up by the tow truck. It reversed to the causeway where there was room to turn around and then it drove off. The loose plan worked.
