Back Onboard

Not only has the weather been getting a lot better this week: I've been getting better, too. So much so that I have started to attend lifeboat exercises again.

Today's lesson was firefighting drill. Fire is the worst possible thing to happen on a boat, as there is nowhere to go to get away from the risk. The fact that boats are full to the brim with inflammable (and sometimes explosive) substances adds a certain spice to the experience. In addition, many modern boats are made out of plastics and resins which are very difficult to extinguish once well alight.

So it was all hands to the pumps, literally, as we followed the water sequence from seacocks in the bilges, through pumping gear in the engine room, through piping, hydrants, connectors, hoses and nozzles, all with terrifying dos and don'ts. Given that the pressure behind a firehose can blow a man clean off the boat, we were all very attentive, and just a little apprehensive, when it came to doing the practice, as opposed to the theory.

First off, the water-cannon, just like the ones for clearing rioters (or more likely legitimate protests) off the streets. Being in charge of one of those when the pressure mounts and the water hisses through a ton at a time gives quite a buzz. We all thought it was for putting out fires, but the fireman training us said its main use was to put up a curtain of spray to protect the crew. So we practiced laying curtains. From a distance, it just looks like a lot of water, a gigantic horizontal shower, but when you are behind it you can see fantastic floral patterns in the spray, along with wonderful sparkle effects from the sunshine diffused through the myriad droplets.

Then came the ordinary, hand-held firehoses with sophisticated nozzle controls for spray shape and number of litres per minute (think in the hundreds, and calculate the weight in kilos). Now I understand why you don't operate one of these on your own. The recoil is tremendous, and having a second, and even a third person, to keep you stable and absorb the kick is no luxury. We were all a bit tempted to souse the expensively tap-water washed yachts in the harbour with grimy, rubbish strewn, oil-contaminated seawater, but for some reason, never explained, we were told not to. Still, laying down a murderous anti-seagull barrage was a good consolation: they didn't like it a bit. We are not very fond of seagulls...

Finally, we profited from water-pressure six times more than a carwash high-pressure hose to blast all the caked seagull dung off the deck. The water turned red as all the fish guts imprisoned in the guano were suddenly liberated. The smell was indescribable but the boat looked a lot better for it.