next to her children.
Once the figure was alongside the back of the boat, I knew it was a child. I put my hands into the water under its torso and lifted. It was not heavy at all. I angled it around so it faced me. It was a boy, a young boy. There were no signs of breathing but my immediate thought was that he did not look dead, his body was obviously cold and wet, but not decomposed in any way, I thought there was hope. I thought I was going to save him.
“Girls, stay at the front! Deidre, come through. It’s a boy, Deidre. I need you to help me.”
I had done first aid courses when I had been a Cub Scout and done a further course at Pearl, when I had volunteered to be a first aider. I knew how to give mouth to mouth. The videos we had watched always resulted in a happy ending. When I lay him down on the cabin floor though, there was a light white froth that was coming from his mouth and nostrils. I checked there were no ‘foreign objects’ in his mouth, as they told us to at work, tilted his head back, then started breathing into his mouth every few seconds, whilst holding his nose. I could hear Deidre’s footsteps coming through.
“What are you doing, Geoff?”
I didn’t answer, there wasn’t time to. If there had been time, I’d have asked ‘what the bloody hell it looked like I was doing?’
I put my hand on his neck to fee l for a pulse, there wasn’t one. This scared me as I had always been the best at finding a pulse on the course. I checked again, definitely no pulse, I began to administer CPR.
“Geoff, the poor kids dead, love. You aren’t going to save him. There’s no-one around. H e won’t have just fallen in now. He’ll have been there all night. One of us needs to go and call the police.”
“Deidre, I am not leaving this poor lad until we know we have tried everything,” I explained, as I started the chest compressions. I remembered the guidelines about putting your fingers between the nipples and start chest compressions quickly with about thirty compressions to two breaths.
“I’ll rub the souls of his feet and you shout him, Geoff!”
Deidre had remembered me teaching her CPR one evening after doing the course and had remembered bits I had forgotten. She had given up hope, but if I hadn’t, she was still going to support me. She removed his trainers, white and green Dunlop ones and his socks and rubbed his feet. I spoke to him.
“Come on, lad, you’ve got so much to live for, son. You’ve got to pull through this. Come on! Wakey wakey! Don’t give up on us! If you can hear this, don’t give up on us! Please, come on! Come on!”
Deidre spoke softly.
“Geoff, you’ve tried, love. We got here too late. He’s dead.”
I looked at his helpless little wet body on the floor of our narrow little cabin. I put my head in my hands and cried. All I could think about was his family. They were probably out searching for him now or sitting at home, praying for his safe return. They would still be living in hope. Hoping this little fellow would walk in and get a telling off and a grateful, relieved hug. Their worst fears were about to become their reality, they did not know this, but we did.
For those moments, I had forgotten about our children.
“Is everything OK, Dad?”
Sarah had wandered through into the cabin.
“No, Sarah, it’s not. Just keep away.”
“Is he dead?”
“I’m afraid he is. Stay with your sister for now, Sarah. Your Mum will come through in a minute.”
Sarah did as she was told. She did not want to be looking at a dead body, she knew it was the stuff of nightmares. We had no idea what to do with the body, so I just lifted off the floor and put it on one of the settees and then laid a cover over the poor boy’s face. I then left Deidre with the girls and went looking for a local house where I could ring the police from.
An elderly couple
Once the figure was alongside the back of the boat, I knew it was a child. I put my hands into the water under its torso and lifted. It was not heavy at all. I angled it around so it faced me. It was a boy, a young boy. There were no signs of breathing but my immediate thought was that he did not look dead, his body was obviously cold and wet, but not decomposed in any way, I thought there was hope. I thought I was going to save him.
“Girls, stay at the front! Deidre, come through. It’s a boy, Deidre. I need you to help me.”
I had done first aid courses when I had been a Cub Scout and done a further course at Pearl, when I had volunteered to be a first aider. I knew how to give mouth to mouth. The videos we had watched always resulted in a happy ending. When I lay him down on the cabin floor though, there was a light white froth that was coming from his mouth and nostrils. I checked there were no ‘foreign objects’ in his mouth, as they told us to at work, tilted his head back, then started breathing into his mouth every few seconds, whilst holding his nose. I could hear Deidre’s footsteps coming through.
“What are you doing, Geoff?”
I didn’t answer, there wasn’t time to. If there had been time, I’d have asked ‘what the bloody hell it looked like I was doing?’
I put my hand on his neck to fee l for a pulse, there wasn’t one. This scared me as I had always been the best at finding a pulse on the course. I checked again, definitely no pulse, I began to administer CPR.
“Geoff, the poor kids dead, love. You aren’t going to save him. There’s no-one around. H e won’t have just fallen in now. He’ll have been there all night. One of us needs to go and call the police.”
“Deidre, I am not leaving this poor lad until we know we have tried everything,” I explained, as I started the chest compressions. I remembered the guidelines about putting your fingers between the nipples and start chest compressions quickly with about thirty compressions to two breaths.
“I’ll rub the souls of his feet and you shout him, Geoff!”
Deidre had remembered me teaching her CPR one evening after doing the course and had remembered bits I had forgotten. She had given up hope, but if I hadn’t, she was still going to support me. She removed his trainers, white and green Dunlop ones and his socks and rubbed his feet. I spoke to him.
“Come on, lad, you’ve got so much to live for, son. You’ve got to pull through this. Come on! Wakey wakey! Don’t give up on us! If you can hear this, don’t give up on us! Please, come on! Come on!”
Deidre spoke softly.
“Geoff, you’ve tried, love. We got here too late. He’s dead.”
I looked at his helpless little wet body on the floor of our narrow little cabin. I put my head in my hands and cried. All I could think about was his family. They were probably out searching for him now or sitting at home, praying for his safe return. They would still be living in hope. Hoping this little fellow would walk in and get a telling off and a grateful, relieved hug. Their worst fears were about to become their reality, they did not know this, but we did.
For those moments, I had forgotten about our children.
“Is everything OK, Dad?”
Sarah had wandered through into the cabin.
“No, Sarah, it’s not. Just keep away.”
“Is he dead?”
“I’m afraid he is. Stay with your sister for now, Sarah. Your Mum will come through in a minute.”
Sarah did as she was told. She did not want to be looking at a dead body, she knew it was the stuff of nightmares. We had no idea what to do with the body, so I just lifted off the floor and put it on one of the settees and then laid a cover over the poor boy’s face. I then left Deidre with the girls and went looking for a local house where I could ring the police from.
An elderly couple
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