Ian Handford: The jockey and novelist who holidayed in Paignton

The renowned jockey Richard (Dick) S. Francis spent his later life as a highly successful writer of best-selling thrillers, living permanently in the Cayman Islands.

Yet, for over fifty-six years, he returned regularly for holidays with family and friends to the Redcliffe Hotel in Paignton. On the last occasion, he brought an amazing party of 34 guests to stay at the hotel. The Torbay Civic Society always welcomed him back and, on two occasions over the years, invited him to an event held at the Redcliffe. I also arranged for him to be the guest star of a book fair held in the main library at Torquay.

Born Richard Stanley Francis on 31 October 1920 in Pembrokeshire, Wales, he was known simply as Dick from childhood. He seemed destined to ride. His grandfather and his great uncle were amateur riders, while his father was a professional steeplechase jockey prior to the First World War and later owned a hunting stable and horse dealership at Maidenhead.

It was in Maidenhead that Dick attended the County Boys’ School and learned to ride — long before he could even read. That was mainly due to his father believing a good day hunting was preferable to another day at school.

Bearing in mind the boy was to have a second career as a writer; these must have been challenging times at home. We know there were family arguments, as Dick adored riding but also liked reading, especially novels by Edgar Wallace, who later in life was a personal friend. On completing his schooling, he finally left with no formal qualifications whatsoever.

As a professional National Hunt jockey, Dick would go on to ride in 2,305 races, winning 345 of them. Sadly, he never won the Grand National, although he came close on "Devon Loch" (the Queen Mother's horse) in the Grand National 1956 at Aintree. It seems Dick was clear of the field, but when 60 yards from the winning post, his horse fell from under him. Commentators were shouting, "Francis will win!" when the front legs of Devon Loch parted, and she sank on her hindquarters and would not get up; the race was lost.

The race became "horse folklore", and experts believed she had pulled a muscle when a blood clot was found later, though she could have had cramp or maybe something occurred at the water jump. Francis thought she had merely "slipped" or maybe "been unnerved by the noise from the stands". Whatever the cause, her fall ensured that the Grand National remained the greatest "sorrow of his life".

Within mere months he was saying "it was this that spurred him on to take up writing" more seriously. In a long riding career Dick experienced more than his fair share of accidents, which again later he recalled with pride mixed with a certain gory relish. He said he had fallen on average every eleventh race and, "I've had a fractured skull, six broken collar bones, five broken noses and no end of broken ribs – you just stop counting."

Having served in the RAF in the Second World War, he had now met Mary Brenchly, his wife to be. It was also the year he received a CBE and admitted, "I was a jockey first, a writer second – continuing – a good review is very nice, but it doesn't beat riding a winner."

Just before he retired from riding, he completed his first book, titled "The Sport of Queens", and now his first thriller novel appeared, "Dead Cert", published in 1962. He would write no less than 38 novels plus a few short stories between 1963 and 2000, making him one of Britain's most prolific writers of that era.

He was married to Mary for 53 years, and she was a researcher. Her death was in 2000, and now Dick Stanley Francis would survive until 89 on 14 February 2010.