False Alarm

Hardly back from the library this afternoon, and just about to have a rest, when the beeper for the lifeboat sounds. So out of town clothes, into birdshit-proof trousers, expendable shoes, and lifeboatman shirt, out with the lifeboathouse keys, a quick kiss goodbye to the BH, and a sprint to the lifeboat.

I was the first there, so I did the engine room routine, got the windscreen protectors down, and started to prepare the boat for sea, covering myself, naturally, with birdshit. By this time, another oldie had come, and he started the port and starboard engines and tuned in the VHF emergency channel on the radio, whilst a third, younger lifeboatman began to cut the umbilical cord which supplies electricity to the boat. We were absolutely ready to go, but minus a cox and two more crew members; and minus instructions on where to go.

Finally, the deputy cox arrived and radioed to the coastguard watch station. Where were we supposed to go? What was the nature of the emergency? How many lives at risk? The usual questions...

The coastguards replied, a little embarrassedly, that there had been no call-out from them. Somebody with access to the secret number, or had had the fluke of punching in by mistake exactly the right code, had activated our beepers and caused all the rush. We were stood down half an hour later; quite relieved all the same that our services hadn't been needed.