Float to Live

 

Float to Live

The summer edition of the RNLI publication ‘Lifeboat’ arrived a few days ago. The magazine contains a selection of articles on subjects related to the sea. There is usually a rescue story, highlighting the incredible work of the RNLI (Royal National Lifeboat Institution)

There is often a reflection on someone’s work with the service, or a glance back to history.

This edition celebrated twenty-five years of RNLI Lifeguards and also emphasised the ‘Float to Live’   water safety advice. The ‘Float to Live’ campaign was launched in 2017 and has saved more than fifty lives in the years since, including children caught in rip currents, and runners falling into canals.

The RNLI has discovered that about half of those who drown every year had no intention of entering the water. Another survey found that one in three people have no idea what to do if they get into difficulty in the water.Everyone can float, even if they are convinced they cannot. Old wives’ tales of people being too heavy to float, or coming from a particular ethnic background which makes it impossible, are responsible for misinformation. One of the first lessons taught by swimming instructors is about floating.

There are five easy steps. The first is to lie on your back and tilt your head back, until your ears are submerged. Secondly, you should relax and try to control your breathing. You should move your arms, hands, and legs to keep you afloat. You may feel your legs sinking and that is fine. There is no one ‘right’ way to float. The last tip is to practice floating in a safe environment, building confidence in your ability. Floating may save your life.

I wrote about the RNLI here, and here, with a fanciful story here.

Pumpkin Mice Tales (5) Stinky and the Gull

 

Pumpkin Mice Tales (5)

Stinky and the Gull

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Big Brown Mouse called the Mousekins together. ‘I have some exciting news,’ he said. ‘I’ve just had a letter from our friend Sergeant Cheeseman of the First Mousehole Artillery. He has invited us to visit him and his family in Mousehole for a weekend on the beach.’ 

Little White twitched her pretty pink nose and squeaked with delight, remembering their last holiday in Mousehole with their cousins the Fishermice. 

White Mouse, with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail (startling green and quite the longest tail ever seen in Mousedom) looked thoughtful.

‘What’s the matter, White Mouse?’ said Big Brown Mouse.

‘I was just trying to remember how to say Mousehole,’ she said, rather embarrassed.

Big Brown Mouse laughed heartily and said, ‘Mow - rhymes with how – zul. Mowzul.’

All the Mousekins giggled and chanted, ‘Mowzul, Mowzul, Mowzul.’

Small Brown said, ‘We won’t forget it now, will we?’

When they arrived the next day, Sergeant Cheeseman of the First Mousehole Artillery greeted them with a big smile and introduced them to his wife and sons, Stilton and Gloucester.

Stilton, in his smart purple trunks, and Gloucester Cheeseman

Stilton Cheeseman showed them where to stow their belongings in the pretty beach hut and then hurried them down to the water’s edge where they spent a long time paddling and building sandcastles with moats. 

Big Brown Mouse and White Mouse, with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail (startling green and quite the longest tail ever seen in Mousedom) sat with Mrs Sergeant Cheeseman and played with Gloucester Cheeseman, who was just a baby.

Stilton Cheeseman asked if they could play with the yellow duck boat.

‘You may, but don’t go out any further than your knees,’ said his mother.

The Mousekins dragged the boat to the water’s edge and were having a splendid game of pirates, when a huge herring gull flew down and attempted to seize the yellow duck boat. Little Grey, the smallest Mousekin, who was sitting in it pretending to be shipwrecked, squealed with fear as she saw the gull’s great yellow beak coming closer. The other Mousekins shouted and screamed at the gull and threw pawfuls of sand at it to frighten it away as it struggled to lift the duck boat.

Suddenly, a huge voice boomed out, ‘Leave the boat, by command of the King.’ Sergeant Cheeseman of the First Mousehole Artillery  resplendent in his scarlet tunic, medals glittering in the sun, stood glaring at the herring gull, which abandoned its efforts to carry off Little Grey and the boat. It flew away, swearing loudly, and all the Mousekins cheered.

Mrs Sergeant Cheeseman, who had run down the beach to her husband’s side, smiled lovingly at him and said, ‘Oh, Stinky, you are brave,’ and Sergeant Cheeseman of the First Mousehole Artillery, blushing to hear his nickname spoken for all to hear, mumbled, ‘It was nothing, my dear, nothing at all.’

The rest of the weekend passed quietly, the Mousekins staying close to the adults, for, though they claimed they had not been at all frightened, they knew that discretion was the better part of valour. Anyway, there was lots of ice cream in the big ice box, and all Mousekins love ice cream.

                                  

The holiday – part three

 

Pumpkin Mice Tales (4)

The holiday – part three

The next morning, the Pumpkin Mice ate their breakfast quickly and set off to the harbour to meet the Fishermice. Although the sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky, there was a brisk breeze and Big Brown Mouse had told them they must wear warm clothes.

‘It can get very cold on the water,’ he said. ‘The sun might be shining now, but the weather can change very quickly.’ The Mousekins grumbled a little, for they felt silly when they saw all the holidaymakers in their shorts and tee shirts, but they knew better than to argue with Big Brown Mouse. They were delighted when Skipper Fishermouse told them he was pleased they were dressed sensibly, and giggled when Big Brown Mouse winked at them.

Once they were on board, they struggled into oilskins and life jackets and had safety lines attached to them. ‘Can’t be too careful on a boat,’ said Skipper Fishermouse.

First Mate Fishermouse started the engine and the Mousekins squealed at the noise and held their noses at the smell of the diesel, but soon forgot such small annoyances as the boat bucketed across the waves. This was an adventure!

After half an hour, First Mate Fishermouse set the engine to idle as Crew Fishermouse One dropped an anchor. There were two other Crew Fishermice, but they had remained at home, for, after all, it was their rest day. Then the engine stopped and the silence was wonderful.

Skipper Fishermouse gave each of the Pumpkin Mice a fishing rod and they were soon watching the floats to see if any fish had taken their bait. Any disappointment they felt at not hauling in nets of silvery fish quickly disappeared as they watched each other’s lines and hoped to be the first to land a catch.

It was Big Brown Mouse who caught the first fish, a fine, shining silver mackerel with green and black tiger stripes on its back. Soon after, there were cries of delight and pride as more wriggling fish were caught. All the fish were returned to the sea, to live another day, to the joy of Little White and White Mouse with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail, (startling green and quite the longest tail ever seen in Mousedom) for they did not want to see the pretty fish knocked on the head.

Skipper Fishermouse said, ‘We’d better be heading back. There’s a storm brewing.’

Sure enough, the once blue sky was now a dirty grey, with looming dark clouds. The Pumpkin Mice had been so busy fishing that they had not noticed the change in the weather. They shivered in the strengthening wind and for the first time realised how far they were from land. A sharp flash of lightning lit up the sky and an ominous clap of thunder sounded almost overhead and then the rain started. It fell like a heavy sheet, and the Pumpkin Mice were glad of their sou’westers and oilskins.

As the boat turned for home, it passed the lighthouse, red and white and standing tall like a guardian of the rocks. ‘Why isn’t it standing up straight?’ Tiny Grey asked, and Skipper Fishermouse said, ‘Never you fret, little man. ‘Tis the famous Leaning Lighthouse and has always been thus.’  Then he added, ‘Not as famous as the Puerto Leaning Lighthouse, mind, in Mexico.’

He was about to tell them more when First Mate Fishermouse shouted, ‘Look to port!’ The Mousekins weren’t sure what he meant, but Big Brown understood and pointed. Out on the rolling waves was a little yellow duck-shaped raft and in it was a small mouse with big black eyes and pretty pink ears. She looked terrified as her raft headed for the rocks surrounding the Leaning Lighthouse. Skipper Fishermouse got on his radio and called the RNLI.

‘Can’t we save the little mouse?’ said Little White, almost in tears.

Skipper Fishermouse shook his head. ‘No, my little maid,’ he said, ‘The tide and the wind’s too strong and even if I could get near, those rocks would tear my boat apart. Besides, I’ve got all you littluns to think about,’ he added.

Just at that moment, they saw a bright orange lifeboat racing towards them. In it were the rest of the Mousekins’ Fishermice cousins. Their day off had turned into a day of work, for, of course, they were always on call for the lifeboat.

When they reached the safety of the beach once more, the Fishermice helped the Pumpkin Mice out of the boat and they all went home for fish and chips.

Their Fishermice cousins from the RNLI lifeboat arrived just in time to join them. They told everyone how they had rescued the small mouse and taken her home. She was very frightened and rather wet, but she was safe. Her little yellow duck-shaped raft, however, had foundered on the vicious rocks and then sunk beneath the towering waves.

‘Coo,’ said Small Brown. ‘That really was an adventure.’

The holiday – part two

 

Pumpkin Mice Tales (4)

The holiday – part two

Sergeant Cheeseman, First Mousehole Artillery, Mousehole born and bred 

The following morning, the small Pumpkin Mice woke early, eager to explore their new surroundings. They were a little disappointed to find that the Fishermice had left late the night before, but cheered up when they heard that they would be back soon to greet their little cousins.

A lovely surprise awaited them, though, for Sergeant Cheeseman, of the First Mousehole Artillery, had arrived after they had all gone to bed. Big Brown Mouse and White Mouse with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail (startling green and quite the longest tail ever seen in Mousedom) had welcomed him and given him a late supper of bread and Mousetrap.

Sergeant Cheeseman, of the First Mousehole Artillery, knew the area well, for he had grown up there, and he offered to take them all to the beach and later to the lifeboat station at Newlyn, just two miles along the coast from Mousehole.

He explained that the lifeboat was crewed by volunteers. Tiny Grey piped up, ‘What does that mean?’ and his jaw dropped when he understood that they offered to go out in dreadful storms and were never paid for their bravery. Sergeant Cheeseman, of the First Mousehole Artillery, said, ‘Your cousins, the Fishermice, all volunteer for the Penlee boat at Newlyn.’

Little White - she's very proud of her pretty pink tail and nose

Little White asked, ‘Is it dangerous?’ and her eyes grew round when she learnt that it could be very, very dangerous, and sometimes crew members lost their lives. 

     Penlee Lifeboat, the Solomon Browne, being launched in calmer waters, before she was destroyed in the storm. 

Image source

Sergeant Cheeseman, of the First Mousehole Artillery, said, ‘Let me tell you a story about a boat called the Solomon Browne.  In December, 1981, on a dark stormy night just before Christmas, the Solomon Browne was launched in a Force 12 hurricane – yes, that’s very strong,’ he said quickly, as he saw Small Brown about to ask a question, ‘and the eight lifeboatmen, from Mousehole and Newlyn, set out to help a ship in distress. The Coxswain of the Solomon Browne chose his seven crew from the twelve volunteers who reported for duty that night, and they all knew the dangers they were facing. The coaster they went to help was called the Union Star and its engines had failed – they’d stopped working - and there were eight people on board, the Captain, his wife, two daughters and four crew. The wind was howling, and the waves were 60 feet high – that’s like six houses one on top of the other.’

‘Wow,’ breathed all the Mousekins, ‘That’s big.’

Sergeant Cheeseman, of the First Mousehole Artillery, nodded and continued, ‘Earlier, a helicopter had tried to rescue them, but the winds were too strong, blowing 100 miles an hour, and so they had to call the lifeboat. The Solomon Browne battled through the heavy seas, and came alongside the Union Star, banging and smashing against it in the mountainous waves. It was hard for the men to keep their balance; the wind was shrieking and the sea was crashing thunderously across the boat’s deck. After several attempts they managed to get four people across onto the Solomon Browne and sent a message by radio, “We’ve got four off.” 

That was the last anyone ever heard from anyone on either boat.’

There was silence as the Mousekins absorbed this information. Sergeant Cheeseman, of the First Mousehole Artillery, said quietly, ‘Lifeboats from three other stations tried to help, but they couldn’t do anything in the treacherous weather. Wreckage from the Solomon Browne washed up later along the shore and the Union Star was found capsized on the rocks. Some of the bodies of the sixteen people were found, but the rest were never recovered, though many search parties went out.’

                     The Union Star was discovered capsized on rocks

Image source

‘Oh, that’s so sad,’ said Little White tremulously and the other Mousekins nodded their heads and wiped their eyes with their paws and tails.

‘But, do you know,’ said Sergeant Cheeseman, of the First Mousehole Artillery, ‘Within a day of this dreadful tragedy, enough volunteers from Mousehole had come forward to form a new lifeboat crew, and more than £3 million was raised for the families of those men who were lost. That’s more than £14 million today.’

Solomon Browne memorial

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Seeing how sombre the Mousekins had become, he said, ‘How about an ice-cream?’ and the Mousekins, being young and not yet in the habit of dwelling on catastrophes, brightened up immediately.

When they returned home, they were greeted by their Fishermice cousins.

‘Tomorrow,’ said the Fishermice, ‘Would you like to come out on the fishing smack with us?’

Tiny Grey asked, 'Why is it called a smack and not just a boat?'

'Well, now,' said Skipper Fishermouse, 'Smack comes from an Old Dutch word, smak, which means a sharp slapping sound. That was the sound the sails made when the wind caught them.'

'Has your smack got sails?' Little White asked.

Skipper Fishermouse guffawed and said, 'No, my little maid. We're all modern now, with an engine. Are you looking forward to some fishing  tomorrow?'

The Mousekins nodded their heads vigorously. They were enjoying their holiday so much, but the fresh, salty air had tired them, and they were happy to go early to their beds.

Pumpkin Mice Tales (4)

 

Pumpkin Mice Tales (4)

The holiday – part one

                                                Big Brown Mouse

It was summer and the Pumpkin Mice were going on holiday to the seaside. The youngest mice had just finished their MATs (Mouse Assessment Tests), and Big Brown Mouse, and White Mouse with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail, (startling green and quite the longest tail ever seen in Mousedom) felt that they deserved a treat after all their hard work.

White Mouse with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail, (startling green and quite the longest tail ever seen in Mousedom)

The Mousekins were very excited, because they were going to stay with their cousins, the Fishermice. They knew they would be spending a lot of time in the water, swimming and sailing. They hoped they would learn how to water-ski and surfboard, too. Big Brown Mouse told them that if they were very good, they might be invited to go out in the fishing smack with their cousins and help to haul in the nets of silvery fish.

There was much noisy chatter as they journeyed to their holiday destination, with Little Grey, the smallest mouse, asking, ‘Are we nearly there?’ so often that Big Brown Mouse simply answered, ‘Yes’, each time.

White Mouse with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail (startling green and quite the longest tail ever seen in Mousedom) handed round some snacks to occupy the Mousekins and when they had finished them, she suggested they sing some songs to pass the time. They started with ‘Hickory dickory dock’ which they sang as a round until they got muddled and had to stop because they were giggling so much. Then they sang ‘Three blind mice’, but Tiny Grey and Small Brown started wailing that they didn’t want to be blind or have their tails cut off.

                                                    Small Brown

Before they became completely hysterical, Big Brown Mouse sang out in his beautiful deep bass voice, ‘A mouse lived in a windmill in old Amsterdam’, and everyone stopped to listen. They liked the song so much that they begged him to sing it again and again, and very soon they all knew the words and could sing along with him.

After a few hours, they arrived in Cornwall and soon came to the signpost for Mousehole, for, of course, that is where all good mice go for their holidays, (though sometimes they might go to East Mouse, or Middle Mouse in Anglesey.)

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

They were tired and it was late, so, after a tasty supper of Mousetrap cheese, they tottered off to bed and, despite their excitement, they soon fell fast asleep, to dream of the wonders they might see. What would the morrow bring?

Pumpkin Mice Tales (3)

 

Pumpkin Mice Tales (3)

When the colder weather came, the Pumpkin Mice decided to move to a warmer shelter. They found a lovely hole deep underground between the roots of an old oak tree.

One morning, White Mouse with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail peeped out of the den. She squeaked with excitement. The other Mousekins scurried across to look.

They saw that visitors had arrived on the Tall Tower. Big Brown Mouse joined them. He had eaten a lot of books in his life and digested a lot of information. He told the Mousekins about the new inhabitants.

‘They have travelled from Antarctica,’ he said. ‘The black and white birds are penguins and the white animals are seals.’

The Mousekins gazed at Big Brown Mouse in awe, wondering if they would ever be as wise as him.    

       Big Brown Mouse continued, ‘Seals and penguins don’t like each other because seals eat penguins.’

 

 In this, though, Big Brown Mouse was mistaken for these particular penguins and seals were great friends. There are exceptions to every rule.

The penguins were brothers. The oldest, the one with the bobble hat, was called Bob Bobble. The first thing he and his brothers did was to build an igloo. They chipped the ice off the puddles and fashioned a rather fine dwelling just big enough for all the penguins to live in.

Mysteriously, the seals created a pond and stocked it with fish. They enjoyed watching Blue Scarf hauling fish from the icy pond. He was generous and shared his catch with them.

His brother, Rufus Red, was the youngest penguin and he was excited every night by the coloured lights that twinkled so brightly on the Tall Tower, lighting up the snowman he had built. ‘They’re better than the Northern Lights,‘ he said.

Little Grey, the smallest Mousekin, asked, ‘How long will they stay?’

Big Brown Mouse smiled kindly at him and answered, ‘I think they will stay until the weather starts to get warmer, then they will return to Antarctica.’ Seeing the disappointment on the Mousekins’ faces he added gently, ‘That will be a long time.’

White Mouse with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail said, ‘How did they get here?’

Big Brown Mouse sighed and said, ‘Nobody knows, ‘Tis a secret never to be told,’ and they all wiggled their whiskers and skittered back into the warmth and safety of their nest.

Pumpkin Mice Tales (2)

 

Pumpkin Mice Tales (2)

The Pumpkin Mice were very excited. They had just had a message from their friend, Sergeant Cheeseman of the First Mousehole Artillery. He was going on church parade on Remembrance Day, when all the Mice and Mousekins of the Land would gather to remember the friends and relatives they had lost in the Mousetrap Wars and the Great Cat and Owl Skirmishes.

It was a great honour to be chosen to represent his regiment and Sergeant Cheeseman had invited the Pumpkin Mice to attend the service.

They squeaked and shivered at the thought of journeying to the churchyard. It wasn’t so very far away but it was hazardous to travel in daylight and they knew the dangers of going at night, but they really wanted to be there.

Little Grey Mouse said, ‘It’s dangerous in the dark.’

White Mouse with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail said, ‘Just the other evening, after dark had fallen, I heard a terrible wailing.’   

Small Brown Mouse whispered, ‘Maybe the Cunning Cat caught someone. Ooh, I’m scared.’

 Big Brown Mouse said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe,’ and the Mousekins huddled together and didn’t feel quite so afraid any more.

The next night, when the black sky was as black as  black could be, they scurried down from their tall tower and, each holding the tail of the mouse in front, they followed Big Brown Mouse through the fallen leaves and the damp grass.

It took a long time to reach the church. They had to stop many times and hide among tree roots when an owl glided above or a fox trotted past. The foxes in these parts were fat and healthy and had no desire for little mice, not even as a midnight snack, but the Pumpkin Mice were cautious folk and took no chances.

They tumbled into a hole under the doorstep of the church and fell into a deep slumber. The bright sun woke them in the morning and they poked their small noses out and sniffed the fresh autumn air, whiskers quivering.

White Mouse with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail said, ‘Look! Look! I can see Sergeant Cheeseman’ and sure enough, there he stood, resplendent in his scarlet tunic, medals gleaming, moleskin hat set at just the right jaunty angle.

Suddenly they heard the ‘oom pah pah’ of a military band and a parade of human soldiers marched up the path to the big stone cross and halted. The Pumpkin Mice were awed at the sight. More people followed, big and small, in all sorts of different uniforms, and stood tidily near the big stone cross, waiting.

The vicar came out of the church with the choir and spoke to them all and then everyone sang a hymn.

Small Brown tugged at Big Brown Mouse’s tail and piped, ‘Why is it called a him and not a her?’ but Big Brown Mouse hushed him because something else was happening. People with wreaths of poppies, shining bright against the green leaves, moved forward and, one by one, placed them gently at the foot of the big stone cross, then stepped back and bowed their heads.

A soldier with a bugle played a haunting tune and Big Brown Mouse whispered to the Mousekins that it was called ‘Last Post‘. Everyone stood absolutely still. Old men and young straightened their backs as if standing to attention, and looked ahead, unmoving. Even the smallest children were caught up in the solemnity of the moment. A soft breeze riffled the remaining leaves on the trees and a robin sang sweetly in the following silence.

The Mousekins had never seen anything like it before and wondered if it would ever end. Then the vicar said a few more words and everybody answered him with, ‘We will remember them.’ The bugler played another tune and Big Brown Mouse told the Mousekins it was called ‘The Rouse’. It was a happier sounding tune and everyone relaxed, as though they had all heaved one big sigh.

Sergeant Cheeseman came over to the Mousekins. ‘Thank you so much for coming,’ he said. ‘It’s important to remember.’

Big Brown Mouse said, ‘We shall never forget.’ Then, taking the tail of the smallest Mousekin, he led them all back to the safety of the tall tower.

Pumpkin Mice Tales

 

Pumpkin Mice Tales

The Pumpkin Mice liked their home on the Tower. They especially liked the little children who passed by every day, chattering with their friends and their mothers. Then, suddenly, the little children stopped coming. The Pumpkin Mice were puzzled and sad and wondered if they had done something wrong. They didn’t think they had but there was no-one they could ask.

One day they saw a mother with a little child and overheard her saying, ‘Half-term’s nearly over. Back to school next week.’ The little child began to cry, saying, ‘I don’t want to. I don’t like school.’ The mother said, ‘You’ll be fine. You’ll like it when you see all your friends again.’ They wandered off, the little child still sniffling.

The Pumpkin Mice were sorry for the little child but there wasn’t anything they could do and then something rather strange happened which drove out all thoughts of grizzling little children. Coming out of their pumpkins one morning they noticed that there was a sort of umbrella over them. That was nice because it kept the rain off but it felt odd. The umbrella, if that’s what it was, moved. It had eight red and black hairy poles and when they skittered outside the shelter of the umbrella and looked up they saw that it was red and black and had a big smiley face, so they weren’t afraid. You can’t be frightened of a smile.

The mothers and children began to walk past again every day. ‘Oh, look,’ said one mother, ‘There’s a big spider on the pumpkins now.’

‘Will it eat the mice?’ asked her little child.

 ‘No, no,' said the mother. It’s a friendly spider. Goodness, look at the time. We must hurry or you’ll be late.’

The Pumpkin Mice looked at each other. ‘Spider,’ they said, trying out the new word. The smallest mouse, Little Grey, asked, ‘Where is the time? The mother told the little child to look at it, but I can’t see it anywhere. What does it look like?’

Big Brown Mouse, the oldest and wisest of the Pumpkin Mice, said, ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s a thing that humans fret over and nothing to concern us.’

Then White Mouse with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail said, ‘I heard one of the mothers telling her little child that the clocks went back on Sunday. Where did the clocks go back to? And why?’

 Big Brown Mouse sighed. ‘The clocks don’t actually go anywhere. They stay right where they are. The humans just reorganise the hours to make the most of the sunlight in the mornings. It means that night falls earlier.’

The Pumpkin Mice had noticed that big orange pumpkins were appearing on the doorsteps and in the windows of the houses nearby. They wondered why and then they saw them all lit up one night and the street around their tower was filled with lots of children, little and big, dressed up in strange clothes and going from house to house. 

In their hands they carried small baskets and some of the bigger children had torches that they shone to show them the path. One or two of them held their torches under their chins and that made them look scary. Tiny Grey, Small Brown and Little White were frightened but Big Brown Mouse told them to be brave. ‘They don’t want to hurt us. They’re trick-or-treating because it’s Hallowe’en’ and before any of them could ask any more questions, Big Brown Mouse said, ‘It’s bed-time, Mousekins. Good night.’