‘Women and children first’.
Posted by Big John on June 9, 2007
Are you a nervous traveller ?
Do you always read the emergency instructions and watch the safety demonstration on board an aircraft ? You know, the one where they tell you that your lifejacket is under the seat, (Has anyone ever checked that it’s there?) and then show you how easy it is to put it on.
I must admit that I have never taken much notice of these demonstrations until recently, when my wife and I were told that we had to attend ‘lifeboat drill’ shortly after boarding our cruise ship.
The alarm sounded and we grabbed our lifejackets and proceeded to our lifeboat station, which strangely enough was not on deck near a lifeboat, but in a crowded bar where members of the crew were checking that everyone was present. These crew members were not brawny seamen, but size ’0′ young ladies from the entertainment staff who proceeded to shout at us … “this strap goes here … and around … and under here … and over like this” … I was waiting for … “and then shove the end up your arse” … when I noticed the bemused look on most of my fellow passengers faces.
The ship’s lifejackets were not of the inflatable type, but rather bulky solid things which you had to pull apart and then pull over your head. My wife much appreciated my assistance when I knocked off her glasses and poked her in the eye.
Around me, most people were struggling with the hooks, ties and straps, but I did notice a few cocky bastards strutting about all neatly bundled up in orange as if waiting for the cry to … “Abandon ship !”
The practice seemed to take longer than it took for the ‘Titanic’ to sink, so I was a bit nervous as I stood there looking a tangled mess, with my little emergency light hanging loose, and my whistle dangling, as I wondered as to the whereabouts of my lifeboat. I watched as a young lady held her nose and demonstrated the correct way to jump into the sea. Blimey ! Perhaps there weren’t any lifeboats !
Eventually we were dismissed and we trooped off back to our cabins dragging our lifejackets behind us, and praying that no one would shout …
… “Iceberg off the starboard bow !”