Saving lives at sea? Rather them than me
EVER since I tried and failed to get a brick from the bottom of Stockton baths while wearing pyjamas, water has not been my best friend.
I can swim, yes, but only in a sort of powder-puff, breast stroke type way, rather than a manly, powerful front crawl.
But there’s something about open expanses of water which make me long for dry land.
So when, in the dim and distant past, Redcar’s lifeboat crews invited me to go on a training exercise with them, I had the ideal answer.
Send someone else.
I was “in charge” of the Gazette’s old Redcar office. Which wasn’t difficult, really, because I was the only one there, my usual partner in crime having been dragged back to Gazette HQ – presumably to preserve her sanity.
However the bosses – somewhat unwisely – decided that as part of a trainee’s development, they should spent time out in a district office.
And poor Arifa ended up with me.
Arifa has gone on to big things (literary critic for national newspapers etc). I’m still here. Says a lot about both of us.
But back then, Arifa was the bright young thing, eager to try anything the murky waters of journalism could throw at her.
So when the RNLI offer came in, she was my ‘get out of jail’ card. It was the ultimate act of delegation.
“Er, don’t suppose you fancy having a little trip out with the lifeboat lads at the weekend do you?” Her eyes lit up.
Two days later, those same eyes darkened with fear as she was lowered into the water from the inshore lifeboat – and abandoned.
So they could recreate a real rescue situation, the crew left her bobbing around in the North Sea before returning a few minutes later.
Even Arifa’s enthusiasm for life briefly abandoned her until her rescuers came speeding into view.
It was only as she recounted this tale on the Monday morning that I realised my failure to mention it to my bosses in advance was, perhaps, something of a health and safety oversight.
No matter – Arifa survived and has since gone on to make big waves in journalism.
But me and water – still not great. It’s just so... wet. And there’s so much of it.
A pedalo is about my limit when it comes to selfpropelled voyages. And the sight of rowing boats bring me out in a cold sweat, remembering the day I “treated” my then girlfriend, the soonto-be Mrs R, to a spin around a lake in a Scandinavian park.
“Spin” was, indeed, the operative word, given my complete inability to go in any direction other than 360 degrees.
All of which brings me to the excellent BBC2 series Saving Lives At Sea, which spotlights the work of the RNLI and last night featured our own Redcar crew.
Every time I see the Redcar boats head out – often in appalling weather – I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing. The ultimate “rather them than me” scenario.
And whether it’s to fund work here or overseas, I don’t resent the RNLI one penny of the funding it has to fight so hard to obtain.
Er, don’t suppose you fancy having a little trip out with the lifeboat lads at the weekend
do you?