Every boat needs a day when the boat can rest, and the crew can get caught up on a few things, and have some safety drills.
About 0600, the day began to lighten, and I felt sorry for Mocha, Ellen's chocolate lab, who is still not fully adjusted to the bathroom on the boat. Mercy, my lab, is a fully accomplished deck eliminator, though always enjoys a romp ashore.
Note: Our boat elimination process has been refined with time. I had a platform built of a PVC board, with PVC tapered slats attached to the bottom, making a nice, gently sloped area to drain urine towards the scupper holes. The PVC is covered with dri-deck, to keep things from slippping, and then a loose sheet of synthetic grass, that we cut to match the size of the PVC drainboard. Mercy likes it pretty well, having known our previous attempts at making a "potty place." (This is by far the best!)
Anyhow, I launched the RIB, and insisted to Ellen that she really did have time for coffee before we took the dogs to the nearby boatramp. Mocha was ecstatic, and even Mercy used a little zeal as they jumped into the boat, ready for a pre-breakfast romp. I climbed in the RIB and started the motor and pulled the RIB alongside the swim platform for Ellen.
As Ellen stepped into the boat, trying to dodge one wiggling lab, who is all over the boat, and one who claims her space, and then refuses to move, somehow her feet pushed the RIB away from the MERCY, while she maintained a grasp of the ready hand-hold cleat on the larger vessel. She did, eventually, let go of the MERCY, but not until her center of gravity was over the water, rather than either boat. As she hit the fully inflated RIB on the way down, she sort of bounced into the water. I grabbed the back of her shirt before she was fully submerged, and snatched her glasses off the top of her head, where they had gotten caught up in her hair.
I proudly announced that I had saved her glasses, but, I don't think she responded properly to that. We tried to no avail to pull her into the RIB, and I flatly refused to tow her the 1/4 mile to the boat ramp. (We were still tied to the MERCY, remember.) Ellen experimented with several ways of climbing onto the swim platform before we used our planned, "man overboard recovery" mode, involving a french bowline and the davit we use to pick up the RIB.
No man overboard drill is really a good test unless you have a simultaneous dog-overboard drill. I'm not sure exactly how it happened, as I was distracted with a bedraggled Ellen. I did, however, hear some miscellaneous dog conversation, that I roughly interpreted after the fact.
I think the conversation went,
Mocha: "O no, mom has fallen in the water, and I have to pee."
Mercy: "Don't you dare pee in the little boat, my mom will be mad."
Mocha: "Too late!"
Mercy: "EWWW! Mom, Mocha peed in the little boat, let me out!"
Mocha: "And I really need to take a dump!"
Mercy: "Don't you dare, if mom doesn't beat you, I will!"
Mocha: "But, I can't stand this excitement, I REALLY have to go!"
I wasn't looking, so I don't know if Mercy pushed her, or if Mocha jumped.
Mercy: "Mom, Mocha fell in the water!"
Mocha, the lightest of all crew members was quickly snatched onto the swim platform and put into the cockpit, where she promptly dumped in the "potty place." Being the good dog trainer, I told her what a good dog she was while Mercy was still barking to be released from the pee in the small boat, and Ellen was struggling to get out of the water.
The point to take away from this: have emergency plans. We had talked previously about how to get Ellen out of the water, with the davit and a bowline. As planned, I attached a line to the davit hook, with a french bowline attached to it, a loop to sit in, and one to put under the victim's arms. It worked pretty well. The hardest part was swinging the davit in, being careful not to put out a window with the laughing, struggling Ellen. She probably didn't think that was the hardest part. The water was warm, and all two-legged crew members remained calm. The second thing I'll say, is these plans need to be practiced, though I can think of better times than 0615 in the morning to practice them.
Ellen took a shower, and when I looked again, she was dressed, ready to go back to bed. I wonder if she'd gone back to sleep, if I could have told her the whole thing was a dream when she woke up. No, Mercy would rat me out.
After the morning pre-breakfast dog romp, Mocha and I explored in the small boat, while Ellen and Mercy stayed on the larger vessel and probably plotted our demise. We explored up Steamboat Creek, and down the North Edisto River towards the Atlantic.
We had another gorgeous day.
No comments:
Post a Comment