head over heels
A
fter analysing the
event, I wondered
what I could have
done differently.
In the first instance,
I had assumed that having used
the rope three times already
for a handhold that it would
be okay again, but we all know
what assuming leads to – and
next time, I’ll check before use.
Also, I guess that lowering the
bag of provisions down to the
pontoon with a rope would have
left both hands free for my own
descent, and I might have been
able to grab the ladder had I not
been hindered by the weight
of the bag. Apart from that, I’ll
just keep quiet about making
such a silly mistake that
fortunately didn’t cause more
than a bruised ego and body!LESSONS LEArNEd
making a glancing blow on the pontoon
with my right thigh. Still holding on to
the rope, I managed to limit my immersion
to about 3ft. There was a convenient
cross member between the quay supports
which I used to climb out of the water and,
still holding on to the rope, I swung across
to the safety of the pontoon that only a few
seconds earlier had been such a threat to
my wellbeing.
Like a cat that’s fallen off a roof, I looked
around to see if anyone had noticed my
performance – but there was nobody
around that I needed to reassure of my
health. Unlike a cat, though, I did not start
cleaning myself, my first thought being
to climb back up the ladder and re-secure
the rope. After a few seconds further
thought, I decided that would be tempting
fate. And so, realising I was actually in
a fair bit of shock, I sat down to let my
heart rate slow and my head clear while
I carried out a damage assessment.
The water had only come up to the lower
pockets of my jacket, and as I was
wearing shorts and sandals, my clothes
would rinse out easily. I had sensibly put
my mobile phone in a waterproof cover
so that would be okay, and as my VHFradio was splashproof, it also looked
fine. Luckily, the water had only touched
the bottom of my lifejacket, so the
auto-inflate had remained dry and not
initiated. The bag of supplies looked
mainly undamaged, but the cabbage,
looking a little bruised, prompted
me to check my thigh.
The cold water had slightly numbed
my leg but as my hand couldn’t feel
any cuts and didn’t come away red,
I guessed that I hadn’t broken the
skin – although, from the tenderness,
I was pretty certain my thigh would hurt
come the morning.
I decided the hanging rope wasn’t going
to be a hazard and the best thing would
be to get back to my boat and make like
a cat, rinsing myself (and my immersed
clothes) in the shower. Carefully untying
the dinghy, I motored back and stripped
off in the cockpit, seeing an impact mark
on the sleeve of my jacket that set off
a pain in my left arm. It seemed funny how
my mind could ignore pain until prompted.
Using the miracle of the mobile phone,
I took some pictures of the damage on
the back of my leg – I’ll spare you those –
which proved I was going to hurt for a few
days, but at least there were no wounds
that required attention. After a shower,
I had a hot sweet tea and opted for a
snooze to let the adrenalin work its way
out of my system. Two hours later, I awoke
feeling a whole lot better but rather foolish
about making such an error. At least there
was no permanent damage, other than
to my previous feeling of invincibility.
I had boiled cabbage that night,
otherwise it would have been off the
following morning. Shame the bruising
on my leg took a lot longer to remedy.*Send us your boating experience story and if it’s published, you’ll receive the original Dick Everitt-
signed watercolour which is printed with the article. You’ll find PBO’s contact details on page 5