Stayin’ Alive

April 14, 2014 at 9:53 pm

Spent Saturday learning CPR and the recovery position on an RYA First Aid Course over in Portishead. Not totally sure how it would work in practice in the cabin, cockpit or narrow decks of my little Duet, especially as I mainly single hand, but it goes without saying that CPR training is undoubtedly useful should you ever need to use it on or off the water.

As part of our training we were shown this video of someone having a heart attack and being saved with CPR and a defibrillator, filmed as part of BBC’s Helicopter Heroes. I last did a St Johns First Aid Course in 1992 and you just had to imagine what it might be like and this is pretty graphic, I warn you. But it does have a happy ending, and for that it’s pretty amazing (and quite emotional to watch). I do think though, if you are ever going to have a heart attack, the best place for that to happen would be with an Air Ambulance Crew…  Apparently they had just started filming for the day when one of the crew started to feel unwell, and literally had a heart attack on camera.

Between that and the rolling about on the floor with 3 somewhat awkward strangers, and practicing mouth to mouth on a dummy, it was quite an intense day.

Got me stificate though… And a new book for the onboard library.

RYA First Aid Course

Wobbly Rudder… Too wobbly?

April 10, 2014 at 9:32 pm

The other week I gave the rudder a little wiggle and was quite surprised how much give there is in the pintle… So I posted this little video to the Hurley Owners Association.

I got replies from 3 other Hurley 22 owners: Apparently this is normal.

I’ll look again next scruboff.

A Wanderer’s Song

April 8, 2014 at 4:06 pm

A WIND’S in the heart of me, a fire’s in my heels,
I am tired of brick and stone and rumbling wagon-wheels;
I hunger for the sea’s edge, the limit of the land,
Where the wild old Atlantic is shouting on the sand.

Oh I’ll be going, leaving the noises of the street,
To where a lifting foresail-foot is yanking at the sheet;
To a windy, tossing anchorage where yawls and ketches ride,
Oh I’ll be going, going, until I meet the tide.

And first I’ll hear the sea-wind, the mewing of the gulls,
The clucking, sucking of the sea about the rusty hulls,
The songs at the capstan at the hooker warping out,
And then the heart of me’ll know I’m there or thereabout.

Oh I am sick of brick and stone, the heart of me is sick,
For windy green, unquiet sea, the realm of Moby Dick;
And I’ll be going, going, from the roaring of the wheels,
For a wind’s in the heart of me, a fire’s in my heels.

                                                                    John Masefield (Of course…)

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