or those of you who may not have 
seen Ray Beach out and about in the last few months, we’d just like to state, on his behalf, that reports of his death have been greatly exaggerated.
The man was very much alive and well happy, as per usual, when we swung up to his fine Windgates Cottage abode yesterday afternoon.
with my dogs last September – as I often do – when, about, six feet from my front door, a pebble lodged in one of the front wheels of my chair, and I went flying. Tried three times to get up, but, in the end, had to call an ambulance. I had dislocated my shoulder, amongst other things, and ended up being housebound for two months…”
Born to John and Pearl Beach way over in sunny Birmingham, it was in 1979 that Ray’s Cavan-born mum decided that the family should move to Ireland. Alongside the 12-year-old Ray, there was also Judy, Niall and Declan, with Jacqueline following not long after the family settled in Newtownmountkennedy. “Ironically, we chose Wicklow because it was the cheapest place we could find,” laughs Ray. “Today, you couldn’t even pitch a tent without taking out a lifetime mortgage.”
Spending most of his teenage wildlife in Greystones, Ray merrily fell in with the biker crowd, getting his first set of wheels at the age of 18, after having always been inspired by his Uncle Pete’s Honda 750. His years of making very merry with the now-disbanded East Coast Riders Motorcycle Club took a turn in 1986 when an accident left Ray wheelchair-bound. 
“It was really all my friends who pulled me through that,” he explains. “The likes of Jimmy Kelly, John Harmon, Paul McLaughlin and John Connolly – all us long-haired hippies just banded together, and drank. And drank. Got to say, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be here today either without Tom Gray and Dave Chapman just across the road. They went well above and beyond the call of neighbours in getting me back in the saddle.”
not by the accident, not by his doctor telling him “You’ll never drive another one of those again”. He bought a tryke, despite having no clue whatsoever how he was going to drive it. The latest customised beauty is sitting pretty, just outside the front door.
Having given up serious boozing fourteen years ago – “I just needed to get my single vision back” – Ray is happiest now at home, with his missus, and with Bonnie, the last of his four dogs. “I’ve always, always wanted to live up here in these Windgates Cottages – or Windy Gap, as it used to be called, and for good reason. I just can’t think of anything better in this world that being on the upstairs balcony, looking out at the sunrise over the sea, and watching all the cargo ships go back and forth.