To:

Geerttheunisse@yahoo.com

Subject:

Bergers - Werken op Water

Date:

Fri, 16 May 2008 17:39:44 +0200

Geachte heer Theunisse,

Dank zij U zit ik nu met een houten kop en een tekort aan slaap. (Hoe komt het toch dat beide me ook aan vroeger deden denken?). Ik grabbelde dat boek thuis mee voor de reis om op het vliegtuig te lezen en ja, het was de moeite die eerste hoofdstukken. Bekend vaarwater, ook een aantal bekende namen van kennen en horen zeggen. Interessant werd het bij de berging van de twee mijnenvegers.

Ik zat in de bar van het hotel in St. Petersburg nam een bruine Bacardi en verdiepte mij in je wedervaren. 8 Bacardi’s en 4 uur verder was het boek uit, sloot de bar en waren de locale hotelbarhoeren zwaar gefrustreerd omdat ik meer interesse toonde voor je boek dan voor hun tentoongestelde schoonheid. Blijkbaar konden ze mijn lachen niet altijd waarderen. Vandaar ook de houten kop. Het is lang geleden dat ik nog op zulk een manier een boek gelezen heb.

Waarom schrijf ik U?

Ten eerste, er komen verschillende namen in voor die ik ook heb gekend.

Ten tweede, het is een vaargebied dat ik enige malen doorkruist heb, zowel in de beroepsvaart als nu met mijn zeiljacht.

Ten derde, omdat ik een immens respect heb gekregen voor U en uw collega’s, de bergers die met kleinere, zelf goed uitgedachte boten meer werk verzetten dan de grote broers.

De sterkte van een sleepboot zit tussen de oren van de schipper wist me ooit iemand te zeggen. Dhr. Bil D’Hondt, Kapitein van de Onrust, was voor mij de aanzet en het begin van mijn loopbaan en de aanzet om terug naar school te gaan en mijn rangen te halen. Nadien heb ik wereldwijd als stuurman en kapitein gevaren op sleepboten zoals de Union-1, Suhaili, etc. Echter het zeemanschap dat ik in korte tijd op de kustsleep en bergingsboten geleerd heb is voor mij van vitaal belang geweest voor mijn carrière .

Waarom vertel ik U dit?  Wel ik vermoedt dat U niet stil kan zitten en dat er nog wel een boek komt of zo; laat het mij weten, ik heb er nog wel een houten kop voor over.

Ach, misschien lul ik te veel maar ik wou je gewoon toch even de groeten doen en mijn erkenning uitdrukken .

Vriendelijke groeten,

Patrick,

Antwerpen, Belgium

‘Giving assistance’

From “Bergers – Working on Water”, ISBN 9080838640.

It was on a hot Sunday in July and very busy with pleasure-craft on the large rivers Hollandsdiep, Haringvliet and surrounding waters. Later in the afternoon, dark banks of clouds towered high up on the horizon into the blue sky and several hammerhead clouds were rapidly formed, reaching many kilometers high. Something was brewing there… For us, those kind of conditions lead automatically to the stage of Yellow-Alert, and that is how it should be of course. A big thunderstorm bursting out with heavy rainfall and a lot of wind for a few minutes. Yes..! A SOS alert came in on the VHF. A small sailing yacht in big trouble, close to the town of Numansdorp. Quickly to the Hollandsdiep with salvage tug Fury-2!

The Police patrol boat RP-9 was already at the scene and rescued just in time the crew from the completely flooded yacht and taken safely taken on board of the Police-boat. A young man and a girl from around twenty, and very nice to look at. The girl I mean…

The RP-9 called me on the VHF: “Geert, take a look at that boat if you will. The Owner here asks to see if you can bring it up again?”

The small sailing boat was barely floating and drifted nearly submersed slowly to the downwind shore. Okay, at work and an hour later it looked more or less like a boat again. I was busy with picking up some floating stuff being washed out when a big yell sounded from the RP-9: “Geert come quick and take those two people over from us, because we have to go like hell to the Moerdijk-Bridge!” “Okay I’m underway!”

With Fury-2 alongside RP-9, the two rescued occupants stepped over on my boat. Well, stepping over? They were almost carried by airmail on the numerous hands from those guys from the RP-9, so much help was available. For the girl, that is… This really very nice girl moved around a bit clumsily, everything managing with just one hand? Of course they were completely soaked picked up out of the river by the RP-9, and those guys were helpful of course giving them some dry clothing. They gave them both overalls. After all, a Police boat is not exactly a Beauty & Fashion parlor.

But from the overall for that really beautiful girl, they had unbelievable quickly ripped off all buttons before they presented her that sorry piece of humble clothing. So, there walked that gorgeous child, well uh…child, smiling ever so shy and beautifully, with one hand holding her overall somewhat together, being ever so grateful to her rescuers... One sometimes should beat the shit out off them! Shouldn’t one? Ah well, okay, a little laughter now and again won’t hurt either, right?

But beware! The Higher Power punishes evildoers immediately! The RP-9 roared towards the Moerdijk bridge and I transport the two people and their boat to Willemstad were the Harbormaster takes further care of them. I leave the port again to the direction of the Volkerak locks bound for home. Just before I enter the lock another Mayday cries out from the VHF loudspeaker! Yet another sailing yacht, grounded now at the Haringvliet, close to the town of Hellevoetsluis. I push my big Deutz immediately to full power again, turn the boat around between the lock doors, yelling to the suspiciously frowning Lockmaster: “Be back later, maybe!”

Arrived at the scene, quickly at work to refloating the yacht, beached in the big thunderstorm that went over a couple of hours ago. There was still blowing a fresh breeze anyway. Being busy with the job, suddenly I see the RP-9 again, approaching full-speed from the East. I think: “Well, are they busy buddies today, or what?” But they pass by without even taking back the throttle a little, one of the guys yelling something from the wheelhouse-door with “…Stellendam…!” I can’t understand the rest of it and carry on with the job. Taking care of things, after another hour or so the yacht was floating alongside Fury-2, and after we had the paperwork finished could sail back again to her homeport Hellevoetsluis. The weather had improved a little and the Sunday was almost over, which is why I sailed fairly satisfied back home.

The next day, Revelation came on hand…! Sunday had turned out to be Judgments Day for the RP-9! Very close to the Moerdijk-bridge that day, a small motor yacht had gone into trouble with a stalled engine. It drifted slowly and helplessly straight to those big solid bridge foundation pilings… The RP-9 came just on time at the scene and managed to come alongside. But because they were already terribly close to one of these big, blue-stone pilings, they unnoticed hit the underwater rim from the base of the piling with the starboard chine of RP-9. This rim is made from very heavy steel slotted-planks, driven many meters in the river bottom. Ouch! The water tide was rather low at the time also.

So, it didn’t take too long before their bilge-alarm started whining, with a sad and rather panicking kind of sound… Engine hatch open, look…water! “Shit! Bilge-pump on!” They managed to just pump a little faster then the inflow from the water. It was just a small gash in the chine. They bring with appropriate speed the motor yacht into the port of Moerdijk, making an urgent telephone call to the shipyard and in the same move, ordering an emergency haul-out. And that is why they passed by me at the Haringvliet with such an improper speed, and even without making a courtesy visit. See! Be always polite to your customers!

                                                                 ‘Assistance too’

Speaking about assistance. With our smallest boat I made the shortest and also close to most thrilling rescue in my life. That boat was a plastic Pioneer rowboat from nearly 8 ft!

On a morning I was sound asleep at home after an all nights work with the small tug Fury. I was dreaming and I heard screaming for help…and it kept on going and going. Finally I woke up…and the screaming was still there! I looked dizzy as a hibernating bear outside the bedroom window and right in front of my nose floated a small motor-cruiser completely engulfed in blazing flames, with two – screaming- men onboard, standing together as one miserable heap of despair on the outermost front part of the tiny foredeck! Damn…!

I stumble sleep drunk out of the bedroom, into the living room, bumping into every piece of furniture from our insignificant possessions, stuff flying hopelessly scattered thru the room, storm meanwhile limping out of the backdoor, jump into the little rowboat, and start rowing towards the blazing and black smoking motor-cruiser. They were just floating between the pier heads from our harbor when I had reached them. Those two men terribly shaking, - one of them with a completely burned face, all his hair molted like a flat and shiny pancake on his head – climbed into my little Pioneer, very rapidly I might say. They couldn’t swim, which could of course being the reason why they had stayed onboard from that barbecue! They had planned a nice day of fishing and had just topped-up with gasoline at the bunker station.

Three people are in fact too many for such a small boat. We had just 2 inches free board left! Exactly that moment the Manders-sluice had opened up to release water out from the River Dintel. A lot of water! This causes a rather swift current between the pier heads. So, there I sat down… stark naked with just my knickers on. Rowing like a drunken beetle with those pathetic little oars speedy crawling up against the current, trying desperately to creep back into port again, and with indeed very little free board left!

Well, we were just advanced to the inside from the West-pier and the blazing motor- cruiser had just nearly drifted to the outside of the same pier…when it exploded! Kabooom!

Boy! We first went to the wife, the three of us together, for a cup of morning coffee…