Children’s Book Launched

December 11, 2017

Dear Gilligan’s Island Blog readers,

Book launch cartoon linked

For the past three years I have been writing and illustrating a children’s book called ‘DRIFTING’ and it is finally done! I thought I should let visitors to my blog know it is now available for download on Kindle books and an interactive version is available on Apple iBooks.

The few hard copies in the first print run are pretty much gone. However, if there is sufficient demand for hard copy versions, I will look into getting more printed. Any positive feedback or comments would be very welcome and may inspire me to write a sequel!

Inspired by real life events during flooding in a small leafy village on the banks of the River Thames just outside London. ‘Drifting’ is an incredible story that should appeal to both children and adults alike. It follows the adventures of an ordinary couple who went to extraordinary lengths to protect their beautiful home.

Recent climate changes and the ever-increasing threat of flooding to us all, makes our unlikely adventurers’ story a truly relevant and enlightening experience. As we are taken on their journey of self-discovery and survival we see friendships, both old and new put to the test, as confidence and belief diminish with the challenges they encounter.

In a light-hearted manner with full colour illustrations, the story will inspire and educate children to recognise the true value of friendship and self-belief. As we see how important and rewarding it can be when we trust one another and never lose hope, no matter how bad things get. Reminding us that sometimes hope will be the only thing we have.

Perhaps you could indulge yourself in some ‘DRIFTING!’ over the festive period.

here’s a taster of the book, just follow this link: ‘Drifting !’ Launch video

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The Great Wraysbury Floods – 2014 (16)

August 1, 2014

(Cont……) Part Sixteen:

“You have two days to move home starting………..now!”

"We don't normally store things here!"

“We don’t normally store things here!”

We knew the flood would impact on our lives for some time to come but we naively hoped as the water subsided and things started to dry out that we could perhaps begin to get back to some sort of normality……how wrong we were!

Despite our determination to stay in our beloved home through the recovery process, we were eventually persuaded by our insurance company to look for temporary accommodation. We were told that drying the house would require many industrial-sized de-humidifiers working 24 hours a day for around six to seven weeks. Even though our ears had pretty much become desensitized to noise as a result of living under the Heathrow flight path for the past 10 years, we knew that the noise itself would be reason enough to move out for a while.

Within a short time of looking for nearby houses to rent we discovered the ‘panic-buyers’ who bought all the wellington boots at the first sign of rain apparently were also ‘panic-renters’. It turned out much to my surprise that some of the insurance companies had received phone-calls from residents in flooding areas requesting re-housing and due to the scale of the flooding the companies were just checking policyholders postcodes and then agreeing to 6 month leases. However, when the floodwater eventually subsided and the surveyors arrived to assess the damage, they discovered that some of the ‘panic-renters’ hadn’t actually been flooded and were able to move back home! This undoubtedly contributed to the scarcity of rental properties we were experiencing. During many visits registering with estate agents we experienced the indignity of being considered undesirable tenants, firstly because we had our dog Bracken (who I have to say is much better behaved than many children I see these days!) and secondly, because we could only agree to a six-month lease at this time.

We soon got disheartened and frustrated, as we had to look further afield. Eventually we found a house in Old Windsor, which had just come onto the market. If we were successful we would be the landlord’s first tenants. Dogs were allowed and a short-term lease was not a problem.

Within ten minutes of viewing the property, we decided to take it. Although it wasn’t within walking distance of our house it did have a large garden and was unfurnished that meant it could accommodate most of our furniture that we had fought so hard to save from the flooding.

Once the insurance company had agreed that the rental price was in line with the value of our own house we had an agonizing wait for contracts to be exchanged and agreed before we were certain of moving. We hoped it would not take long as the drying process could not start until we were out of our house, besides staying there was really taking its toll, the sight of everything in disarray, the compromised electricity and being surrounded with damp, was only adding to our desperation.

Finally, on Tuesday 11th March 2014 we were told we would be moving, on Friday 14th March 2014. Packing should begin the day before that on Thursday 13th March. Ready, steady…..go!

Our kitchen before the floods

Our kitchen before the floods……..

As if the floods themselves hadn’t caused enough stress, we spent the next two days trying to sort out which of our belongings could go with us to our temporary accommodation and what needed to go into storage. I have to say I don’t know anyone who has had to move out of a home they’ve lived in for ten years, with only two days notice, it was horrific!

........and after the floods!

……..and after the floods!

We would never have achieved it after what we had been through, were it not for the excellent service provided by the removal men. We were so impressed with them we booked them for our return trip, although I’m not so sure they were particularly happy at the prospect!

I doubt anyone can really understand and fully appreciate the distress that comes with being forced out of your home and watching everything you have worked so hard for being gradually destroyed. The Environment Agency for one will surely never fully appreciate the suffering they caused that fateful moment they decided to do whatever they did with the Jubilee Relief River. Questions remain unanswered!

(to be continued………..)

Disclaimer: The content in my blog is provided for entertainment purposes only and as such is in no way reflective of any recognized sailing regulations or guidance. Whilst all the stories are factually correct, the identities of the people concerned may have been changed to protect me from any liability. Please consult a sailing book, preferably endorsed by the Royal Yachting Association (RYA), before going anywhere near the River Thames. All content is copyrighted to Bracken


The Great Wraysbury Floods – 2014 (15)

June 7, 2014

(Cont…..) Part Fifteen:

“Picnic Anyone?”

Unlikely flood heroes

Unlikely heroes in a flood!?

Throughout Tuesday 18th February 2014, a number of fire engine crews from all over the country descended on Wraysbury, dropping off large containers and various pieces of equipment. One particular unit of the Chorley and Lancashire Urban Search And Rescue Services called ‘Blue Watch’ arrived late afternoon and began setting up a huge industrial pumping station right outside our house. I watched with intrigue as they began laying hundreds of yards of hoses in and out of the field opposite and all the way down to the River Thames. It didn’t take long for curiosity to get the better of me so I went across to ask them if they would like a cup of tea or coffee. I always assumed firemen must get inundated with offers of tea where ever they go, so I was surprised when they jumped at my offer with immense gratitude ordering, six teas, four white, three with two sugars and one with three sugars, one black and one white with no sugar and two white coffees, both with one sugar!!?

Despite needing my wife to help me manage such a complex and diverse order, for some reason that still escapes me today, I chose to complicate things further and introduce another component into the order. I decided to see if the boys from Chorley fancied some of my bulk-supply of Picnic bars.

As they got stuck into their Picnic bars I was a bit surprised and disappointed to hear that despite coming all the way from Lancashire to help out our little village of Wraysbury, they had not been offered a single cup of tea all day.

Picnic BarHaving broken the ice by demonstrating some good old fashioned hospitality, I asked them “So, just what exactly are you doing here?” Without hesitation, they told me “We’re going to try and empty the water from the field opposite and pump it back into the river” This sounded pretty ambitious to me, “It is a very big field, how long do you think that will take?” I asked. “Difficult to say, probably 2-3 days but we won’t know until we have the pumps up and running.” I left them to their work and told them if they don’t get inundated with offers of tea and coffee from the kind residents of Wraysbury, they should give me a shout, pointing to my house across the road.

Despite the EA’s miraculous ability a few days ago to lower the water levels by 7.5 inches (19cms), many pockets of deep water still surrounded several properties including my own. The water around our house was still about 12 inches (30cms) and had not moved over the past few days. It was clear we were in a low-lying area. I thought about asking my new friends from Chorley to come and look at my property to see if there was anything they could do to help. But decided not to, for fear of yet another refusal to help me.

I soon became familiar with the shift pattern of Blue Watch as I continued to meet their demands of tea, coffee and my precious Picnic bars! They worked tirelessly maintaining their pumps and checking the field opposite to monitor their progress. They worked round the clock with another crew, disappearing after eight hours only to return eight hours later to start another shift. Both teams kept this up for a full 72 hours.

Soon we were supplying both crews with tea, coffee and Picnic bars. One evening, we had seven firemen standing in our flooded kitchen drinking their beverages! One of the firemen commented on how deep the water was in our garden. I agreed and changed the subject saying “It must be a bit strange for you guys to have water as the enemy?” They must have heard that one before because no-one laughed.

The following day after their eight hours of rest Blue Watch returned. Once they had checked on the pumps and had consumed their first tea, coffee and Picnic bar of the shift, they came to look at the garden again.

"It will be a while before anyone wants a picnic on our lawn!"

“It will be a while before anyone wants a picnic on our lawn!”

They told me they would probably finish with the field shortly and would be returning to Chorley. One of them said that they had told their shift supervisor about our hospitality and how deep the water was around our house. “We asked if we could use our big pumps to try and drain your water out but have been told we can’t”.

Despite being disappointed at the news I thanked them for helping our village and wished them well. “We are not going yet”, one of them said, “Not until we have tried to empty your garden!” I wondered how, if they had been told not to. He continued, “I may be confused but I think our supervisor only said we couldn’t use the big pumps.” he smiled “So, we will just have to beg steal and borrow what equipment we need”. I was really touched.

Within 20 minutes all six of them returned with different pieces of machinery and piping. They had borrowed hoses from the London fire crews, a water pump (which took four of them to carry) from the Somerset team, plus a few more bits and pieces that they weren’t sure who owned.

They spent at least two hours pumping out the garden, moving the heavy equipment around as water levels dropped and new low points were revealed. By the time they finished we could see our beautiful lawn again, albeit through a layer of crap from the flood. At last our dog Bracken could go in the garden, which was something he hadn’t been able to do for nearly three weeks.

I thanked the team from Chorley and gave them their last cups of tea and coffee, leaving them to fight over the remaining three picnic bars. Seventy-two picnic bars had gone in less than seventy-two hours!

Sadly, within three hours of waving them goodbye, the water began to fill back up in the garden as high as it was before. It was fun while it lasted, although sadly it would be a long time before anyone fancied having a Picnic on our lawn again!

(to be continued……….)

Disclaimer: The content in my blog is provided for entertainment purposes only and as such is in no way reflective of any recognized sailing regulations or guidance. Whilst all the stories are factually correct, the identities of the people concerned may have been changed to protect me from any liability. Please consult a sailing book, preferably endorsed by the Royal Yachting Association (RYA), before going anywhere near the River Thames. All content is copyrighted to Bracken, in the hope it might eventually pay for his chemo!

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The Great Wraysbury Floods -2014 (11)

April 19, 2014

(Cont……) Part Eleven

I Do Not Believe It!

I knew my theory about my life being like the Truman show was not real, however it did help me cope. After all my wife and I were coping pretty well, all things considered.

"What the F***?!!!!"

“What the F***?!!!!”

On Thursday 13th February 2014, the water levels in the house were pretty static.  Early morning my wife and I set off to move my car from the ‘safe’ car park in the village school where I’d been told to park it three days earlier. I had heard some neighbours saying that command control needed all the vehicles moved. I wasn’t sure where we were supposed to move them to exactly, as the water was still too deep on our road to get anywhere near the house. But compliantly we made our way to the school to do our bit.

As I arrived at the car park I couldn’t believe the sight that met my eyes. The vehicle I had spent years saving up for and the past twelve years looking after lovingly, was now all bashed in at the rear end. I remember thinking about my ‘Truman show’ theory but quickly pulled myself together. At first I thought perhaps it had been broken into but on closer inspection it was clear something very dark and very big had done this. It was in fact one of those children masquerading as the British Army who had driven into it in one of their enormous lorries.

Physically shaking and feeling sick, I went into command control to ask why no one had called me to let me know, despite my contact details being under the windscreen. Not surprisingly I got no explanation as to what had happened or even an apology for not being informed. I gave command control my contact details and ventured back outside to see if I could move my car. To top it all the battery had gone flat, probably because the alarm would have been going off incessantly with the damage that had been caused.

Thank goodness I had listened to my ever-cautious father many years ago and always carried a set of jump leads for this very occasion! Unfortunately though they were in the boot of the car, which was not going to open easily in its current state. After several unsuccessful attempts to get it open I went looking for help despite my many knock-backs when asking for help over the past few days. I decided to aim high and approached two Police officers who were busy enjoying their sandwiches in their 4×4.

My faith in the community services was revitalized as both of them stopped eating, jumped out of their vehicle and commenced trying to get access to the car boot!! Whilst I was delighted at last to get some help, I couldn’t help feeling uneasy about how enthusiastically they were breaking into my car. It was as if they couldn’t resist the opportunity to be the bad guys for a change and break into something!

Tell it how it is man!

Tell it how it is man!

Eventually after some discussion the three of us agreed on the optimum sequence of applying the jump leads (which I’ve already forgotten!) and they got us on our way …… I wasn’t sure where to but we were on our way. In an unfit state to go anywhere, (neither was the car) I drove to the local garage and left the car there until I figured out what to do next.

Despondent but not defeated by the mornings events, we began walking back towards home. The journey consisted mostly of me saying not much more than ‘I don’t believe it!’ over and over again. Of course there was plenty I wanted to say but none of it nice and most of it aimed at our beloved army, the government and the environment agency. Saying what I really thought about the UK, surrounded by British citizens was just asking for trouble. Just then, a reporter from a French radio station rFI (Radio France Internationale) approached us for an interview. I took one look at my wife and I could see her thinking ‘Please don’t’. For a fleeting moment I thought this might be a great opportunity to get things off my chest and say just how crap it was living in rip-off UK and warn the French that if any of them even remotely considered coming here, then don’t …… besides we also have the longest working week in the EU!

I managed to resist the temptation; in fact my wife and I were both very refrained considering what we were going through. I decided not to discuss the driving expertise of the British Army or the Police’s amazing ability to break into anything and the environment agency’s inability to do anything at all! The French reporter seemed happy with what we had to say, so God knows what I said. Anyway, what can you say when your house is shin deep in dirty Thames water other than ‘Je ne pas croire il’ as they say in France.

My wife had obviously had enough of me saying ‘I don’t believe this’ (even in French) and decided after our interview to venture into the village to get some supplies that our daughter had not brought yesterday. I wondered what on earth that could possibly be and if the Wraysbury village Post Office would have it anyway. It was beginning to thunder and rain quite heavily, I was concerned Bracken our dog would be getting upset on his own back at the house so we parted company and I headed home.

"After all, what's a bit of water in your house?!!!!!"

“After all, what’s a bit of water in your house?!!!!!”

Soon after I had left her, my wife spotted our daughter, unexpected and unannounced, driving through the village! My wife had the same emotional reaction to seeing her then, as I had the day before. Not thinking she would see her for perhaps two weeks she was delighted! Not only to see her again but because she had delivered all the essentials yesterday, she had now come back with flowers and treats for us. She also put my wife’s mind at ease telling her our cat was doing fine and hadn’t had any diarrhea at all!!? Unfortunately I didn’t get to see my daughter that day because I had gone home and the water was far too deep for her to come anywhere near the house.

Soon my wife arrived home with the non-essential (but incredibly uplifting) supplies our daughter had just brought. That evening we felt just that little bit more normal with a bottle of wine, tea-lights and flowers. After all, what’s a bit of water in your house? A question the majority of people who thankfully have not experienced their home being flooded could never truly know the answer to. And for all our sakes, let us hope they never will! ………. (to be continued)

Disclaimer: The content in my blog is provided for entertainment purposes only and as such is in no way reflective of any recognized sailing regulations or guidance. Whilst all the stories are factually correct, the identities of the people concerned may have been changed to protect me from any liability. Please consult a sailing book, preferably endorsed by the Royal Yachting Association (RYA), before going anywhere near the River Thames. All content is copyrighted to Bracken, in the hope it might eventually pay for his chemo!

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The Great Wraysbury Floods – 2014 (9)

April 10, 2014

(cont……) Part Nine

I Don’t Like to Complain,……but!

"Time for reflection and reflection and then some more reflection!"

“Time for reflection and reflection and then some more reflection!”

During what seemed like an age waiting for the Army to return and help me with my ecologically-friendly dam, an Emergency Rescue person appeared at my front gate.  He seemed agitated and was obviously desperate to tell someone what had just happened to him. I listened intently. “You’re not going to believe this mate,” he said, “but I’ve just waded here from the Control Centre to assist a person in need of urgent evacuation and you’ll never guess what I found!”

Intrigued and eager to hear more about someone in a possibly worse situation than myself, I urged him to go on.

“I was called to the house next door!”  He said, gesticulating wildly.  I had noticed, a little while earlier, a young chap standing at the top of the metal stairs outside the front door of the said house but had assumed he was out having a cigarette.  Goodness, maybe someone in there was ill! I knew there was a young family with a child in the house but I wasn’t sure who the other occupants were.

“What?” I said, “You mean the house that was built in breach of Building Regulations, that is at least 4’ (1.22m) off the ground and that has probably contributed to the fact that my home is now flooded inside!”

“Yes!” he replied, “and can you believe it, there was a bloke, about thirty or so, standing at the top of the stairs wearing a rucksack and a lovely pair of brogues. I asked him if this was the right address for the emergency evacuation. “Yes!” he said, “Thank God you’re here, my mate is coming to the village to collect me but I can’t get there as I have no Wellingtons boots, can you take me in a boat?”

“Unf****ingbelievable!” exclaimed the Rescue worker, shaking his head.

Actually I could believe it. I could believe anything these days. “You’re joking” I said, just to humour him, “I hope you told him where to go!” “No I didn’t actually” he said and a wicked grin crept across his face, “I told him to sit tight and someone would be along in a boat when we had one available! How long do you think he’s going to wait there in his shiny brogues until he gives up because I’m certainly not going to call for a boat!”  He was giggling to himself as he set off back to Command Control in the village.

For the first time in four weeks I was actually laughing, the stresses and strains of the past few weeks had taken their toll. I wondered just how long our poor Wellington-bootless neighbour would remain patiently waiting for his water taxi to the village…… an hour or two at least I hoped!

"Perhaps he will wait for one or maybe two hours....I do hope so"

“Perhaps he will wait for one or maybe two hours….I do hope so”

By this point I had been waiting over three hours for the Army to turn up with their log-dam experts. The distraction with the goings-on next door had helped pass the time but it was getting late and the water was continuing to steadily rise inside the house. It was dark now and I decided I could wait no longer. I waded back to the front gate to have a look up and down the road to see if there was any sign of the military.

You can imagine my complete sense of joy (not!) when I spotted a team of soldiers meticulously sandbagging the entrance to the drive of the house next door! Yes, the bloody house next door! The one about 4’ (1.22m) off the ground, in breach of Building Regulations and the one where not more than an hour before some selfish numbskull had thought it reasonable to call for an emergency evacuation because he didn’t own a pair of bloody wellies!!!!

As the soldiers built their wall of sandbags the water found itself another path and began to flow gently, reflecting the moonlight as it went, (how lovely, maybe my wife would like to take a few photos), under the fence dividing our properties and into my front driveway. I stood for a while, transfixed with horror. What were they thinking? The water was nowhere near entering the house next door and never would be. I was about to burst a blood vessel!

I was beginning to think that perhaps the lunatics had well and truly taken over the asylum and whilst these guys were only doing what they had been told, clearly neither them nor their superiors had a clue about identifying the most vulnerable and focusing their efforts there. It was time a former Royal Marsden nurse went and educated them about triage!!!

I’d had enough, I was a reasonable man but no more! I set off at a cracking pace to the village, muttering to myself about the injustices of life, the idiot would-be evacuee next door, the ridiculousness of actually being able to fish in my own garden and the fact that my waders were now chafing because I was trying to stomp!

I arrived at the Command Centre and stormed into the midst of the hall. I stood there, hands on hips, legs apart (because of the chafing obviously), glaring. It was like a scene from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly!!

“Who is in charge here?” I exclaimed. There was an immediate hush, I looked around, I was surrounded by burly men, all in various uniforms and all looking at me! I must have looked more distraught than I thought I did because I soon got the reaction I had hoped for. For the first time, someone was listening to my concerns. I explained that I had asked for help over three hours ago and that my property was flooded and the water inside was continuing to rise as soldiers continued to indiscriminately sandbag non-vulnerable properties adding greater threat to those already under water!

Command Control apologized and they told me a team of soldiers would be with me straight away. Excellent. Some help at last! I waited for them outside hoping to get a lift back to my house. Just my luck, in their haste to help they had forgotten about me and had already left and were outside my house sitting in their enormous all-terrain vehicle by the time I had stomped (not quite so aggressively this time!) back home. Still, I was glad of their help, albeit three hours late!

After they had reinforced my eco-friendly dam and helped block the fence between mine and next door’s with their very large, very heavy sandbags, I decided to do the decent thing and gave them the last of my secret stash of Bounty bars (actually they were my wife’s Bounty bars, mine were the Picnic bars and I was keeping them in reserve to throw at any Environment Agency personnel I might see, they are much harder than Bountys). I couldn’t help smiling as I heard a cheer from the back of the vehicle as their Sergeant gave them their reward! I was pleased I’d shown them some appreciation, after all they were just there to help!.………(to be continued!)

Disclaimer: The content in my blog is provided for entertainment purposes only and as such is in no way reflective of any recognized sailing regulations or guidance. Whilst all the stories are factually correct, the identities of the people concerned may have been changed to protect me from any liability. Please consult a sailing book, preferably endorsed by the Royal Yachting Association (RYA), before going anywhere near the River Thames. All content is copyrighted to Bracken, in the hope it might eventually pay for his chemo!

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The Great Wraysbury Floods – 2014 (6)

March 2, 2014

Part Six

“Keep Calm!………. We Know What To Do!”

IMG_0257

‘Not even enough time to implement my ‘flood friendly’ house modification plans’

Overnight the water had continued to rise in the back garden. It was different this time, it was quicker. We hadn’t even had time to implement a few home modifications I had thought of since the last flood. By Saturday afternoon on the 8th February we had positioned the sandbags we had carefully stored from the last flood, around the garage door and had created a polythene and sandbag dam both at the entrance and exit of the garage. I knew from experience that the water would not come up through the concrete floors in the annex, instead the threat would be from water gushing across the road and into the drive if the field opposite flooded again.

Doing something different to the flood just three weeks ago gave us a feeling that maybe this time we’d beat it and perhaps this time there wouldn’t be as much water anyway!

The next job was to build the dam at the entrance to the driveway. I couldn’t handle the prospect of being woken again at some ungodly hour to be told that there was a river where my drive used to be. By evening we were exhausted, let’s face it, we’d not really had time to recover from the last flood and the clear up, let alone being in a fit state to be doing it all again………not at our age anyway!

We collapsed into bed and prepared to see what daylight would bring. Besides, it was a big day tomorrow, there was a village meeting to discuss the last flood.

In the morning our worst fears were confirmed, this was not going to go away any time soon, but we were still hopeful the water levels would not be as high as last time. At 2.00pm on Sunday 9th February, along with our neighbours, we descended on the village school for the flood meeting.

images-10

Councillors, Colin Rayner, Andrew Davies, John Lenton, our head flood warden Dave Francis and Simon Dudley from the RBWM. Click on the following link to hear what we had to hear. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=boU3on_Oif0&sns=em

The school hall was packed, all our Flood Wardens were there along with a representative from the Environment Agency and local councilors.  It was standing room only so we made our way to the back of the hall and waited for proceedings to commence.  The mood was tense but optimistic.  There were jokes about the events of the past few weeks, Brits putting on a brave face, the old “War Spirit” I guess.

The meeting was called to order, a hush weighted with anticipation descended.  We were told that an emergency meeting had been held earlier that day with the powers that be and that we were on the brink of catastrophic flooding. There was a stunned silence around the room, neighbours exchanging glances of disbelief. A few people even left at that point. We were told the Army were being deployed to help with evacuations and were descending on the neighbouring village of Datchet that evening to begin constructing a sandbag wall of defence. The school was going to be utilized in the coming days as a relief centre and then a very nice gentleman took to the stage to give us hints and tips on protecting ourselves and our possessions.

We set off for home in silence.  What was there left to say?  Once in the house we had a stiff drink and began the process of raising everything off the floor, wrapping what we could in bin liners, wrapping up the bottoms of all our doors like Christmas presents and collapsed into bed at about 1.00am after a bowl of soup. Maybe the Environment Agency were being over-cautious after the debacle in January…..let’s face it, they have often been wrong before!!

If you enjoy reading my blogs, any contribution, however small, towards Bracken’s now in excess of £6,000.00 chemotherapy bill, would be greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: The content in my blog is provided for entertainment purposes only and as such is in no way reflective of any recognized sailing regulations or guidance. Whilst all the stories are factually correct, the identities of the people concerned may have been changed to protect me from any liability. Please consult a sailing book, preferably endorsed by the Royal Yachting Association (RYA), before going anywhere near the River Thames. All content is copyrighted to Bracken, in the hope it might eventually pay for his chemo!

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The Great Wraysbury Floods – 2014 (5)

February 28, 2014

Part Five

The aftermath of the January Wraysbury Flood 2014 …………… or just ‘The eye of the storm?’

Following the previous week of distress and anxiety we experienced a few weeks of frustration as we waited for the floodwater to subside from the annexe and the garden. During that time there were numerous telephone calls with our insurance company and the many different players in the flood recovery process. In particular we had to contend with a cyclone of clean up personnel who were a welcome sight to us once the water had subsided. There seemed to be little co-ordination, one company would call us one day and another the next. One team of workers came and ripped up the laminate flooring in the office and the gym. Unfortunately they didn’t pull up the chipboard flooring and insulation layers in the office (which I will expand on the consequences of in a later post). The team left us with one de-humidifier to dry out the office. It took them only a couple of hours, I was left with no evidence of the type of laminate flooring that used to be there and strangely felt as though I’d been burgled.IMG_1126

Office to the right, main house to the left………I think!

A few days later a cyclone hit us, in the form of two burly workmen who turned up a day earlier than they were supposed to. On returning from work I found all the damaged gym equipment dismantled and piled on the garage floor for apparently putting in a skip the next day. Again, I felt as though I’d been burgled, I still had to price up the equipment for the insurance company. Even though I visit the gym regularly, I couldn’t remember exactly what the different machines even looked like, let alone their serial numbers. They assured me they had photographed everything and documented it, which I had to trust them with.

The following day, the skip was duly filled with my beloved damaged goods and swiftly removed two days later. I was impressed with the speed of response but felt a little out of control owing to the lack of co-ordination between the multiple stakeholders in my post-flood clean up.

We thought we had died and gone to heaven when our central heating and hot water was restored thanks to a neighbour who happened to be a wizard electrician and who will forever be a very welcome guest in our house (my wife did say at one point that she wanted to marry him!). It took another three weeks for the water to subside sufficiently to enable us to get our fridge and freezer running again. We had become used to shopping for two to three days maximum at a time and were storing dairy produce in a bucket outside the back door.  We had never eaten so healthily, I have subsequently developed a new requirement for fresh bread every day!

IMG_0112

“Just what has he done to deserve this?”

We began to think we had survived the flood, although not unscathed and the worst was still to come! Bracken (who followers of my blog will know well) had found the flooding difficult, his mood had been down and his lymph nodes were beginning to enlarge rapidly. We decided we could no longer put off a visit to the Queen Mother Hospital at the Royal Veterinary College who had previously treated him (in conjunction with our local vet in Windsor), so on 7th February we embarked on the normal 45 minute drive from our house.  Five hours and numerous blocked flooded roads later our worst fears were confirmed.  After fourteen months in remission Bracken’s Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma had returned, he began CHOP chemotherapy that very day!

We returned home only to find the water was beginning to appear up through the ground in the rear garden. Surely,……..you cannot be serious!!!?

If you enjoy reading my blogs, any contribution, however small, towards Bracken’s now in excess of £6,000.00 chemotherapy bill, would be greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: The content in my blog is provided for entertainment purposes only and as such is in no way reflective of any recognized sailing regulations or guidance. Whilst all the stories are factually correct, the identities of the people concerned may have been changed to protect me from any liability. Please consult a sailing book, preferably endorsed by the Royal Yachting Association (RYA), before going anywhere near the River Thames. All content is copyrighted to Bracken, in the hope it might eventually pay for his chemo!

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