I have white hair. I have a white beard. My skin is white. My snot is white. When I sneeze, a small cloud of dust rises off of me. Yes, we’ve finished sanding down the polyfilla’d walls and we’re ready to “size” them before papering (apparently, that’s putting a weak coat of paste over them to help seal them and increase adhesion). We’ve used up a box and a half of polyfilla (or the B&Q equivalent thereof). I haven’t killed my Dad once. We even managed to have a laugh and a few pints down the local last night. Weyhey.
In other news, I apparently offended someone with my language the other night. This surprised me significantly, since there’s a lot of swearing that goes on in that group of people, it’s very testosterone filled, and while I know I tend to use poor language in that group, I didn’t think it was more than usual. Additionally, I’m a little upset that he felt that he couldn’t come to me and tell me, since we’re often teasing each other. Not to worry, a small apology next week I think. Also a concerted effort to swear less.
Anyway, back to the grindstone.
There’s a callout in progress, a search for a woman. Where is it? Cross Hands. Where’s that I hear you ask. I’ll tell you where it is. It’s about 4 miles from the village where I grew up, it’s where the school I attended for 7 years of my life is. So, you ask, why am I here typing instead of on the callout in my home area? Because I’m waiting for my Dad to arrive to help me paper the back bedroom. Lunchtime he was supposed to be here….he won’t actually be here until at least 1800.
Gah.
In between bouts of fixing configurations for a customer, I popped up to base with Mal last night to do some training. Ran through the rigging of a horizontal lower[1][2] followed by a raise[3] and practised it a few times as well as rigging up the back end of the system, something I’ve not had practice at for a while.
While at base we did have a debrief on all of this week’s callouts, including the last one at Clun Gwyn Falls. I have a lot more information now about the casualty, however I stopped and thought this morning about the information that I had.
In the course of our operations, we are regularly placed in a position where it is necessary for us to deal with sensitive and private information about individuals. For example, medical history and treatment, or the presence or lack of mental impairment for searches. Some time ago, we had a discussion in the team about personal blogs and the decision at the time was to let people self-censor. Now that’s a great responsibility, we’ve been given the power to do something very good, and equally something terribly bad. The responsibility, however lies with the individual. It brings to mind a welsh proverb – Ym mhob baich y mae cyfrifoldeb, which roughly translates as With every privilege comes responsibility.
So I pondered this morning about the information that I have. I can’t say why I stopped to think, because that would actually be publishing one of the relevant pieces of information, but I can say that one of the reasons is that the outcome of the medical attention he has and will receive is unknown at the moment. I was in a bit of a quandary, and so I called Mark to ask his advice as a friend, a person with experience of the media (he works for Auntie) and also as Secretary of the team. His response was typical of Mark: “If you’re thinking about whether you should or shouldn’t, then you shouldn’t.”
So I’ll just say this: my thoughts, and I’m sure I’m speaking on behalf of the entire team, are with the casualty and the family and here’s hoping for a full and speedy recovery.
For the rest of you, my apologies for the slightly cryptic writing and distinct lack of “juicy stuff”[4], but the responsibility of correctly dealing with the information that I possess is weighing heavily on my shoulders today.
Footnotes:
[1] We always try to lower rather than have the person who’s going down the rockface in control of their own descent. This is so that you have two hands free, and also if someone (the crag-fast casualty for example) jumps and grabs you, then you have both hands free to help stop them from strangling you accidentally. 🙂
[2] Horizontal – so that the stretcher is lying horizontally so the casualty is lying on it, strapped in. This requires two lowering ropes, one for the head and one for the feet, along with two barrow boys, or “stretcher attendants”. The stretcher can then be used as a working platform for the barrow boys. We can also rig the stretcher vertically, so you’re descending as though you were standing up, but securely attached to the stretcher. A vertical lower is generally not suitable for someone with spinal injuries.
[3] Using a series of pullies and prussics we rig the system to give us a 3:1 mechanical advantage, called a “z-rig”
[4] Bearing in mind the typical injuries we see, that comment could be in terribly bad taste…
Just got back from another callout. Look like summer is starting to get going for us – didn’t school break earlier this week?
Anyway, haven’t got a huge amount of details – the air ambulance was there by the time I arrived, so not much left for me to do. Leg injuries in Clun Gwyn Falls – again. This is rapidly becoming a theme for this year.
So now I have to spend some time tonight catching up, so I’m going to be late for training. Bummer.
Tomorrow night is the Christmas BBQ at Rich’s house. Woot. 🙂
Jon and I both needed to chill out last night, so I dragged Jon up to Senghenydd to slap some of the beef we bought the other day on the BBQ. I have to admit that the “steaks” were so thin it was more like bacon but made of beef. But very nice and with a bit of couscous it went down a treat. So sat there after food, chilling out, watching CSI….and the pager goes off. It’s been quiet recently, but tonight was going to make up for that.
So after doing some quick sums in my head about diesel costs, I call around to see if I can grab a lift, but there isn’t one available. After some discussion I decide to hang on until we know what it is. A few more minutes of CSI and the pager’s off again – it’s an area call for a person with leg injuries on the hill above Cwmbran. Mal and I agree to split the diesel, so I quickly change into my kit, grab Jon and we’re off into Cardiff. Mal’s waiting by the road in his hi-viz jacket and I beep as we approach, pick him up and head off again. Down Eastern Avenue and we’re on to the M4, with Mal and Jon passing OS maps, street maps and a road atlas back and forth trying to work out exactly where the RV is. We make our way up through Cwmbran to the farm where the RV is, spotting a helicopter on the way, and finally find some MR vehicles just short of the farm. I jump out and we quickly find out that Rescue169 is up and coming in. We park up and head up to control to sign in and see if they need anyone else.
Up at the farm, the farmyard is experiencing a traffic jam. Team vehicles, personal vehicles, ambulance officer’s vehicles – they’re all there jostling for space while the IC chats on the radio to the guys on the hill, just visible on the ridge above us. 169 is already in with them and as Mal, Jon an I stand there chatting, we watch as 169 takes off. We potter around for a bit, not really wanting to leave and enjoying the view across the Bristol Channel in they setting sun. A quick hand to sort out the parking situation and we’re about ready to head down.
That is until we hear a phone ring and the immortal words come over the radio “Stand by, stand by, we’re just taking details of another shout from the police.” A few minutes later, and we start heading down the road – it’s a search this time, for a missing 10 year old in Dyffrun. Looks like it’s going to be a long night for Jon. We head off from the briefing with Michael following us in his car, leaving the rest of the guys discussion options for this search. We haven’t even reached the M4 when the pagers go off again with the stand down – looks like the missing child had been found.
After a quick stop at McDonalds to rehydrate a little, we head home, an eventful night over and Jon’s first callout fresh in his mind. He seemed to enjoy it, so we may have a new recruit come January…
Hooray for CardGuard!
I’ve just had a telephone call, apparently someone dropped my keys into a letterbox and they’ve just arrived at their offices. Probably took Royal Mail a while to work out what to do with them…[1]
So the upshot of this is that on Monday, my keys will arrive at the office by Special Delivery. I’ll be back on the road, happy as can be, and about to buy a new keyfob so this doesn’t happen again.
Words cannot describe the relief I’m feeling right now.
[1] The CardGuard keyfob is a little metal thing with words along the lines of “If found, call <number> or when asked drop into any UK letterbox. <CardGuard’s Freepost address> <my reference number>” I think I’ll order some more of these next week along with some stickers.
What is it about a dealership that makes you bad?
To get a set of replacement keys for the ones I lost, I contacted the dealership. They told me that they could sell me a new key along with a “Emergency Key Access” code (EKA code) which would disarm the alarm and immobiliser allowing me to drive the vehicle for a short time for £30. A surprising turn of events for someone who once charged me £50 plus VAT and fitting for a “Genuine Land Rover” LCD clock. All I had to do was turn up with my V5 logbook (as proof of ownership).
So I arranged to have some time off work and a lift down and off we go. After waiting for while for someone to finally be free[1] the chap takes my details, asks me to take a seat and grab a complimentary coffee and he’ll be back in a few miuntes. Nathan is, as usual, entertained by the capsule-based coffee machine for a few minutes while I grab a bottle of water and try and ignore “Chuckle Brothers” on the TV.
The chap comes back with the bad news. Apparently, there is no EKA code for my car. They’ll have to replace the ECU[2]. Probably. Well, maybe. He has no idea of price as he hasn’t priced it up yet. He goes off to find someone else.
So I’m left here a little upset and pissed off now. Eventually he comes back and says that they don’t make the ECU anymore. What?! There is however light at the end of this particularly long tunnel. Apparently if I get the car recovered to them, they may be able to plug a computer in and sort it. Maybe. They can’t guarantee this, but apparently it works 80% of the time.
At this point I thank them and walk out, albeit with a key they’ve cut for the lock. It doesn’t have a chip for the immobiliser, but it will at least let me get into the car.
My next step is not what they expected me to do. I call Ian, of Promec Engineering, an excellent local Land Rover specialist where I take my Discovery to get work done. When I tell Ian what the dealer said his retort was that the dealer was basically talking shit. Ian was incredulous that they suggested it would need a new ECU and said that they cost £275 + VAT plus fitting – if it were really that bad that is, which he seriously doubts. There was some confusion over exactly what needed to be done, as not only do Discovery’s have 3 different types of alarms, but my year was a changeover year between several different revisions of systems. On top of that, last night I went back to http://www.remotekey.co.uk/ who I bought the keyfob from in the first place. Their site suggests that I can get a few bits from them to sort everything out, although I may need to connect it up to a computer to get it all coded up properly. Depending on the system installed I may or may not be able to get a spare key too.
So why was the dealer so crap? They gave me inaccurate if not plain wrong information, would have happily charged me silly money for a job that didn’t need that done…surely they realise that the best method to keep business is customer satisfaction. They know about Promec because if they have an electrical problem they can’t fix, they take them to Mike, the genius electronics guru at Promec who was talking to me about building a CB out of spare parts at home in an hour or two last time I was there.
Gah. Once again I leave the dealer with a bad taste in my mouth and a distrust of the company who made my vehicle and its representatives.
(If anyone from Land Rover manages to find this and wants to comment, feel free, users not on my friends list will be screened)
[1] This is another, separate rant, but 4 people sat at a desk. None are particularly busy, all are chatting with other people as they go by, yet none of them can be bothered to find me someone to get a key sorted. Pathetic. They just sit there “Someone from parts will be here shortly to deal with this gentleman sir, they’ll see to you then.” You only have one person in parts?!
[2] Electronic Control Unit – the computer that runs the car
Yup, Christian is arranging it this year so that people can sponsor us by running a marathon or half-marathon.
If you’re interested, more details on the news article on the team’s website.
I’ve lost my keys today. Car keys, house keys, the whole lot. I hope some responsible person will find them and hand them in. Until then, I’m going to go home, get in using a set of keys I left with a friend (can’t do that with car key unfortunately) and possibly get drunk.
Blah.
Waiting for news
The police, team members, friends and
family all wait anxiously for the casualty
to arrive
Originally uploaded by aledt.
Friday, and a callout.
I’d left the office and picked up the minibus ready for picking up the cadets tomorrow morning. I was already on the way to pick Lynfa up when the pager went off – an area call for a lady with a broken leg – the RV was in Pont ar Daf. So I headed up to Merthyr.
With Lynfa in the minibus we headed up the A470 to the Pont ar Daf lay-by. The lady had fallen on the M4 – the main path up to Corn Du and the one visible in the background of this picture – Sean should recognise that path. With some 40 people responding, we decided to carry her the short distance down the path to the waiting county ambulance. As the pictures on my flickr site show, we only caught the tail end of it. There was an excellent turnout as the pictures show with the vehicles parking in a long line.
The picture itself was taken right at the very end. You can see family and friends, members of the public, team members from the control vehicle and the police all watching as behind them you can see the group bringing the casualty down the footpath.
I am glad that I finally made it to a callout after the last few daytime callouts where I’ve not been able to attend. It’s been very frustrating and it was good to get out again. Hopefully, Jon and I can head out for some bimbling this weekend as well.
Right now, however, Lynfa is handing me a Guinness. Life is peaceful.