An 'emergency' at sea

The emergency alarm sounded just before 1am this morning on the Isle of Wight car ferry from Yarmouth to Lymington. The ferry quickly slowed right down and then turned round through 180 degrees and five crew moved quickly to the rear of the boat and gathered by the derrick holding the rubber rescue craft. A few swift manoeuvres followed to swing the derrick and the suspended rescue boat out over the side, with its two crew members clinging on tightly.

The winch then dropped the orange rubber craft with its outboard engine straight down at least thirty feet into the calm waters of The Solent, as the ferry drifted in the middle of the channel. After a slight tussle when detaching the ropes which had been suspending the craft, the crew immediately started the engine and sped off away from the ferry, and the relative safety of its emergency lights, heading out across the dark waters at high speed.

Neither Helena and I were worried though, as the ship's captain had come up to us and the two other car drivers whilst we were queuing on the quayside at Yarmouth. He wondered if we were in a hurry and whether we minded if they carried out a necessary crew training programme, when halfway across to the mainland. We didn't mind, and Helena and I both immediately knew an unique blip opportunity was looming. We had been playing with our cameras, whilst waiting on the harbourside, so were ready for action.

I was impressed with their unfussy approach to what could be a critical situation. The ropes were left dangling, quite safely I was assured, and the rescue boat was going to make its own way into port, and would then be winched back up while the ferry waited the few hours till its next sailing. I had a chat with one of the crew about what they have to train for, and why, which was enlightening. They even sometimes have to practice bomb alerts, when there may or may not be a 'mocked up bomb' for them to discover.

Finally we landed at about 1-30am and I then drove the hundred miles home without any further incidents.

I've now back-blipped the last four days of our holiday on the island,. As usual, Woodpeckers was, and is, far more organised and up to date, as she had her laptop to blip with.