Saturday, 15 October
Barney had found himself in some strange situations over the years, but watching Nate trying to coax an eight-stone dog into the inflatable rescue boat was right up there. His mate was currently tugging on Bubba’s lead, one leg on the rocks, the other still in the rescue boat, as he tried unsuccessfully to save the animal from drowning. But Bubba wasn’t cooperating.
‘Get his owner in the boat first,’ Tony called, trying to keep the vessel steady as another wave hit, sending a spray of water into the air. The sea was getting choppier now the daylight was fading. ‘The dog might follow.’
‘I’m not leaving him!’ The woman flattened herself against the rocks, her love for Bubba the St Bernard preventing her from cooperating with her rescuers.
‘We need to get you both in the boat,’ Barney shouted across to her, battling to be heard above the crash of waves. ‘The tide is coming in.’ Realising that the woman wasn’t able to climb into the boat unaided, he jumped onto the rock face and held out his hand. ‘Come on, I’ve got you.’
The woman had lived in Penmullion all her life and was used to the rapid changes of tide, she’d told them. She’d always been careful not to get cut off, but Bubba had got carried away chasing seagulls, and had disobeyed numerous orders to ‘heel’ – which was how they’d both ended up getting stranded.
Tony had been right. The moment Mrs Bubba climbed into the boat, her dog followed. He jumped from the rocks, and landed on Nate’s midriff, causing his mate to stagger backwards, his arms full of St Bernard.
Barney wrapped the woman in a foil rescue blanket, trying not to laugh at Nate’s disgruntled expression.
With owner and dog reunited, Tony manoeuvred the inshore rescue boat away from the rocks, and they headed back to dry land. It was the second successful rescue of the day. The first one had called on Barney’s medical skills. The swimmer involved had developed something he now knew as ‘post-rescue collapse’, when a person suffers shock-like symptoms, and needs oxygen to stem a full-blown panic attack. He was certainly learning on his feet. Thankfully, all the boats came equipped with Entonox, so he’d been able to manage her condition with gas and air until the paramedics arrived.
Barney was loving his new life. It was everything he’d hoped it would be … career-wise, at least. His training had included spending two days at the RNLI college in Poole this week, completing his accredited course. He’d learnt all about the equipment and different types of boats in the fleet. They’d also covered safety regulations, lifeguard skills, and tested his fitness levels. He’d had to swim two hundred metres in less than three minutes, and run two hundred metres across the sand in under forty seconds. Thank God surfing had improved his stamina.
It was almost dark by the time they arrived back at base and drew alongside the jetty. The wind had picked up, making the boat unstable. Barney helped the woman onto solid ground, leaving Nate to handle Bubba – who jumped before Nate was ready and ripped the lead from his mate’s hand. An unhappy Nate climbed onto the jetty, rubbing his arm and mouthing obscenities at Barney for laughing.
Yep, being back in Penmullion was definitely good for the soul, even if it hadn’t eased the constant ache in his chest.
Despite his best efforts, he still pined for Charlotte. He’d hoped that keeping busy might help eradicate her from his mind, but it hadn’t worked. There were too many reminders, like seeing her sister all the time. Lauren was a regular at The Mousehole now she and Nate were a couple, and as much as he liked Lauren, it wasn’t helping him to forget Charlotte. But he needed to try. She wasn’t here anymore, and he had to find a way to get over her and move on.
He glanced up at Morholt Castle silhouetted against the inky sky, his mind drifting back to the summer. The fun and laughter they’d shared, the intimacy and sense of closeness that had developed between them, his hope for a future together. How the hell was he supposed to get over that? It wasn’t like you could just decide to stop loving someone.
He helped Tony secure the boat, and made his way up to the boathouse, leaving Nate to deal with the woman and her dog.
Despite only being back in Penmullion for two weeks, it felt like he’d never been away. Nate and Paul had welcomed him like a long-lost brother, and Dusty had coerced him in to playing Mustafa Kit-Kat in the Christmas pantomime. He was probably taking on too much, especially as he started his new job on Monday, but he figured that keeping busy might help him get over Charlotte. Fat chance of that.
He removed his drysuit, and flicked on the kettle. The noticeboard behind was crammed full of photos depicting various rescues over the years. It filled him with a sense of pride to be a part of that tradition now. His love life might be dead in the water, but at least his career was on the up.
No sooner had he poured boiling water into the three mugs than the alarm went off. His first Saturday on the roster was proving to be a busy one.
Tony and Nate hadn’t undressed, so they were ready to go quicker than he was. He tugged his drysuit up over his hips, and followed them down to the jetty. ‘What have we got?’
‘Reports of a woman in a sailing dinghy being dragged out to sea.’ Tony jumped into the rescue boat and started the engine. ‘The caller said the woman didn’t appear to be wearing appropriate sailing gear, and she didn’t look in control of the boat.’
Barney fastened his suit. ‘Is she drunk?’
‘Who knows.’ Tony waited until Barney had secured his helmet. ‘Take the lead on this one, Barney. Then we can sign you off. Okay?’ Without waiting for a reply, Tony gunned the engine and pulled away.
Barney looked across at Nate. ‘Great. My final assessment and I get a joyrider.’
Nate grinned. ‘Welcome to the colourful life of an RNLI helmsman.’
It served him right for laughing at Nate’s attempts to rescue Bubba the dog.
It was now fully dark, the moon providing the only light as they left the bay and ventured into deeper water. The sea was rough, the waves bouncing under the boat, lifting them up and crashing them back down. It wasn’t a nice night for sailing. If the woman had capsized, then she wouldn’t last long in the water. Time was critical, they needed to get to her as quickly as possible. He’d learnt that as part of his training. No one wanted to drag a body from the water.
Lights came into view as they neared where the boats were moored alongside the harbour wall. He switched on his flashlight. ‘You take the port side,’ he shouted to Nate, who gave him a thumbs up.
Both their lights skimmed the water, looking for the stranded boat. Tony slowed the engine as they neared where the vessel was last seen. And then he pointed. ‘Straight ahead.’
Barney flashed his light to where Tony had directed. Bingo. A small sailing dinghy came into view. It was just like the one Tony owned. It was tilting violently from side to side, the boom swinging about untethered, the hull low in the water, indicating it was taking on water. Logic dictated that if the woman didn’t do something soon, the boat was going to capsize.
A gust of wind caught the mainsail, dragging the boat further out to sea. And then Barney spotted the woman. She was clinging hold of the mast, making no attempt to stabilise the boat. What the hell was she doing?
Tony sounded the horn, which made her jump. The dinghy tilted further.
Barney addressed her through the loudspeaker. ‘This is the RNLI. Are you experiencing difficulties, miss? Do you require our assistance?’
Nate’s searchlight landed on her, and he nudged Tony. ‘I think that’s your boat.’
Tony drew closer to the stricken vessel. ‘Bloody hell, it is.’ He peered closer. ‘Is that … my daughter?’
Barney looked again, confusion and shock vying for prime position in his brain.
The woman waved frantically. ‘Help me!’ she yelled, holding onto the mast. ‘I need help!’
Barney nearly fell out of the boat. ‘Shit!’ He staggered to his feet. ‘Charlotte? Is that you?’
And then the boat lurched again, momentum sending her one way and then scrabbling back the other.
What the hell? ‘Stay where you are,’ he called. ‘We’re coming to get you.’
Neither his brain nor the boat would move quickly enough. It seemed to take forever to reach her. Tony had to slow the engine so the swell didn’t tip the sailboat over. Questions filled his brain. Why was she here? What was she doing? But the only words that left his mouth were, ‘I didn’t know she could sail?’ to which Tony responded, ‘She can’t!’