This is an authorized translation in English of a post in French by Vincent Le Roy (@vincentleroy): Mon premier sauvetage à la SNSM!!!!

Note that the person that speaks here is NOT me, Vincent Celier (@vcelier), but Vincent Le Roy (@vincentleroy).

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The story, OK, but from the beginning!

In September 2017, I was asked to go and take photos for the local SNSM station.

[Note: the SNSM is the "Société Nationale de Sauvetage en Mer" (National Society of Sea Rescue). It is the French equivalent of the British Royal National Lifeboat Institution]

On the occasion of an exercise, I spent three hours among them to photograph what they were doing. And I cannot explain why but I wanted to drop my gear and be with them. When I returned, I took a week of reflection. To be a member of the SNSM, there are constraints. As the President told me, training people for a year to stop seeing them, that does not interest us. Eight days later, I came back with my medical certificate ... and started my training. Every Saturday morning. Without exception. I applied myself, I learned the basic gestures, the available equipment and how to use it ... and of course I had a ton of training in progress (first aid, various permits ...) ... In short, I am a Volunteer boater in training since September and thoroughly in it. At the end of December, our big boss, responsible for the training, taught us, my eight congeners and myself, that we were now "7th man". So our training was far from over but now we were going out on real interventions; the 7th man, he helps as he can, he observes and he continues to learn. Second consequence, we had to register on the schedule and it means to be on call a minimum of 6 times a week! In short, the adrenaline and impatience would begin then because I expected my first real outing at sea ... and that's what I'll describe now.

Now?

This week, Thursday to be exact, I take the car for some errands to do in the vicinity. I'm on call but OK, except for the bag in the car, I have the head completely elsewhere. And of course the phone rings. A number that I do not know. I pick up and I hear the boss's voice: "It's Cyril, we need you at the harbor, there is an inter!" [an intervention]. Surprised or even disarmed, I answer stupidly: "Now?" There the tone is very dry: "No, tomorrow, stupid, at 10:00 with the croissants! Bring your ass, I want you in ten minutes" and he hangs up. It is true that it is very stupid, what I have just answered him. And as I'm already in the car, in six minutes I'm in the locker room. Equipped in five minutes, I join the crew on the big boat. Complete crew, the engines were waiting for us: hop, we go to sea.

Everything seems quiet

Outside, the weather is nice. We are in a period of big tide. The boaters therefore went right across the coast in the middle of the islands to fish. We could call this area the thousand islands ... there are a thousand reefs. No need to tell you that it is 90% of our interventions because inevitably, if you do not know the area, without a GPS and and a good map, you end up stuck on a rock! That's exactly what happened. A fishing tourist boat has impaled itself on a rock with the rising tide and our Zodiac [a small inflatable boat] is already on site with three men to assist, to assess the situation and to try to get them and their boat out of there. The zodiac is handy, ultra powerful, but there is very little equipment on it. The big boat however cannot go too close, there is not enough depth. So we are only there to assist, ready to jump in the second zodiac (which is in the big boat) to bring the necessary equipment and if necessary launch a tow line from the big boat!

On the VHF, the situation is critical

It's hard to spot shipwrecked people, so the boat is communicating with the Zodiac and the news is not good: "waterway on the boat and waterway on the zodiac ... manageable for the moment. Prepare motor pump and and tow line, not sure they can be rescued ... recall in ten minutes for evaluation. At worst, we get the two guys (understand that we let the boat sink)" ... Ah yes ... we are no longer laughing. So, we do as in training, we prepare everything on deck: motor pump, tow line (the rope that will serve to pull the boat) and a team of two jump in a zodiac to lend a hand with all the equipment ...

Action, anxiety and Olympian calm

The second zodiac is on the spot and the boat was unhooked from its rock. It is sinking inevitably. Motor pump on board. Working. The VHF tells us it's good: "boat sealed". Clearly, the motor pump is able to evacuate the water what comes in. The boat is not repaired as much and even this good news can evolve. The second good news is that the big SNSM zodiac has started towing and that the power is sufficient despite the water they also have on board. It must be said that on this zodiac, it is the big big boss who is in command. Former captain in the Merchant Navy, a boat below 400 meters in length, he calls it a rowboat. Before he panics, he would need a lot more. In the binoculars, I begin to see them approaching us.

Rescuers, but not heroes!

An hour later, the disemboweled ship is in the harbor. It is immediately lifted with a crane (otherwise it would sink in less than ten minutes). Our mission is over and we can start tidying up, rinsing, cleaning everything ... ready to do it again. The two guys we went to rescue were really scared. Where they were, the currents are very violent, there was wind ... so why? Stupidly, an engine that stops working ... and they ended up on the rock calling us urgently. More fear than harm finally. The rescuers have fulfilled their mission and we return to the station. There are no heroes at SNSM. And for good reason. We have priorities. In order, it's our own skin, then the people we save and finally, when possible, towing their boats. We are trained for that and perfectly disciplined. My first mission ends like this. I knew that I had the virus. It's confirmed!!!! I am eagerly waiting for the next rescue!

All photos are property of @vincentleroy and under copyright