‘It’s rare to say you have actually saved a life’ - meet Dartmoor’s life-saving volunteers

On a wet October night, when most of us are settling in with a cuppa, a small group of men and women may be checking their alarms, pulling on red jackets, and heading out into the moors. 

There’s no pay, no rota, and no guarantee they’ll be home before dawn, but when the call comes, a missing walker, an injured climber, a worried parent, Dartmoor Search and Rescue volunteers drop everything and go.

ABOVE: Volunteers on the moor for an evening rescue (Credit: DSRT)

A calling, not a hobby

For Ian Bishop, a nuclear engineer, volunteering with the team isn’t a pastime, it’s a commitment that’s become a second life. 

A former military man with 25 years of service, Mr Bishop joined the trainee programme last January after an assessment day the previous autumn. 

“It’s a big commitment,” he says. “Every Wednesday we’re training, first aid, ropes, navigation. You’re learning to move safely in some of the toughest terrain in Britain.”

Ian’s a probationary hill party member, working toward his assessment, but already on the call-out list. “It’s massively welcoming,” he says. “We’ve got six trainees, all completely different backgrounds, but everyone’s there for the same reason.”

The team is 100 per cent voluntary, every rope, boot and waterproof is self-funded. “Everything in the bag for the hill, we pay for ourselves,” Mr Bishop said.

ABOVE: The team at training Wednesday 15 October (Credit: Jamie Townsend)

The alarm goes, and everything stops

When the alarm sounds, life stops. Dale Kendrick, a carpenter and former military, knows that feeling well. 

“A few times I’ve been at home with my daughter, the alarm goes off, my mum comes round to babysit, and I’m straight out to the moor,” he said.

He recalled one of the most poignant rescues, a 10-year-old boy who’d run off from his parents near Morwellham Quay as darkness fell. “He was found safe in the woods by one of our members,” Dale said. “That one stuck with me. You think, that could’ve gone another way.”

Dale trained throughout 2024, earned his badge this January, and says the process, led by senior “badge holders,” was rigorous but deeply supportive. “It’s a really good training process, very helpful. In this team, everyone is your cup of tea.”

A chance to give back

Steve Ayres, a software developer from Exeter who joined during the pandemic, says the role has given him a chance to give back. 

“I was doing endless Teams calls, not really making a difference,” he says. “I needed to do some good.” 

His training was delayed for 18 months because of COVID restrictions. “Online navigation training, rain outside, sitting on Teams,” he laughed. “Not exactly a mountain rescue.”

Five years on, he’s part of the core team, often heading straight from a night on the hills to work at 9am.. 

“My employer’s brilliant about it. Sometimes I leave at a moment’s notice. It definitely impacts family life, I’ll be getting the kids ready for bed and the alarm goes off. Off I go.”

He smiles at the chaos that sometimes follows. “I should’ve brought my wife with me, she has to sit the kids down and explain why daddy can’t be at home.”

He says the experience has changed him. “I used to manage a team at work, you’d spend all your energy getting people to do stuff. Here, it’s 3am., freezing, and everyone’s just willing. No one shies away.”

One cohesive unit

For Guy Balmer, a semi-retired former Royal Marine, joining the team seven years ago felt like coming home. “I’ve never met a more collegiate, team-oriented group outside the military,” he says. “The team becomes a major part of your social life.”

Guy said the team averages more than 30 call-outs a year, some minor, others unforgettable. 

He recalled one summer afternoon when a climber fell and broke his arm and wrist. “My role was to stand as a sunshade over him while the medics worked. You realise you’ve done something to make someone’s life better, even if it's a small thing."

The family behind the rescues

Rescue work doesn’t happen in isolation. Christine, a teacher, joined in 2018 alongside her husband Nathan, who is now head of the ropes team and search dog handler. 

Between them they juggle two children and the two search dogs. “Our parents often step in for childcare,” she says. “The kids think they’re part of the team, they’ve grown up with it and know our rescue centre inside and out.”

Christine also organises the annual 11 Tors fundraiser, one of the team’s biggest events. “We’re very present in the community,” she says. “People see the red jackets at events as well as rescues.”

Andy, a retired teacher and one of the longest-serving members, joined in 1994, before GPS, when navigation meant paper maps and being dropped by helicopters to grid references. 

“I’ve done this longer than anything besides being married,” he laughed. “It’s just what we do. A huge part of who we are.

“It does impact our children, partners, everyone. We couldn’t do it without them. They’re an unsung part of the team too” he added.

Support from the ground

Not everyone on the Dartmoor team goes out on the hills. Helena, who joined nine months ago, is a Bid manager by day and leads the supporters’ team in her spare time. 

“People assume you have to be a badge holder, but there’s loads to do,” she said. 

“There is so much more that goes on; organising fundraising events, trade stands, and merchandise, even bringing the group to the regional (European) finals of the Defender Awards. 

“We need more people like that, people who can’t climb a tor at midnight but still want to do their bit.”

ABOVE: Volunteers (including Christine, family and a search dog) at a fundraising event (Credit: DSRT)

Evolution and resilience

John Abey, a former Royal Navy officer, has been part of the team for a decade. “We’ve had to become more professional,” he says. “We have to demonstrate competency, medical, technical, and navigational skills.” 

During COVID, when insurance rules tightened, the team had to prove their safety protocols before being allowed to deploy. “It’s flexible, you do it when you can, but the commitment is big. Training, fundraising, and goodwill from family members keep it going.”

More than a team

Collectively, Dartmoor Search and Rescue’s four teams, Ashburton, Plymouth, Tavistock and North Dartmoor (Okehampton), answer dozens of call-outs each year across one of the UK’s wildest landscapes.

The work is demanding, sometimes dangerous, and always unpaid, yet none of the volunteers would swap it.

“It’s rare to say you have actually saved a life,” says Emily, a freelance writer and long-standing member. “But you make a difference, you bring someone home, you help when it matters.”

When the alarm goes off, even mid-shower, she drops everything. “It wakes everyone in the house,” she said, laughing. “But that’s part of the deal.”

ABOVE: The team out on a call on the moor (Credit: DSRT)

Back on the moors, under rain and mist, the red jackets move quietly through the darkness, engineers, teachers, developers, parents - ordinary people doing something extraordinary.

As Guy puts it simply: “It’s very rewarding. At the end of the day you’re doing something to make someone’s life better.”