Paparoa 1
Robin Shirtcliffe skidded down the muddy slope, hit the bottom and kept on running. Supplejack plants threatened to throttle him, as the New Zealand Department of Conservation Ranger blundered through their tendrils. Bush Lawyer, it's long thin leaves covered in spines, grabbed his bush shirt, scratched his face and hands, and impeded his progress, but he paid them no mind. He had to keep moving. Birds fled deep into the bush to escape this human projectile.
He rounded a corner in broke into a clearing. Ahead lay a D.o.C. hut. That would have a two-way radio! The door slammed back against the wall as he raced inside. There was the radio! He grabbed the hand piece and without waiting to gather breath, switched it on.
There was no reassuring crackle of static. The machine remained mute. Feverishly he scanned the dials to check the settings were correct and then pulled the table out from the wall to check the connections. It was then that he realised why the radio wasn't working. The power cord that connected it to the solar panel had been gnawed through. A small, recent, pile of droppings identified the culprit as a rat.
Suddenly his pack felt as if it were made of lead and he slid it from his aching shoulders. He was cold and he was wet. He was also hungry. Numb fingers refused to co-operate as he tried to open the pack. Once he had managed to extract an energy bar he sat down on one of the bunks to consider his options.
Point one: He had to get help as soon as possible.
Point two: It was starting to get dark, and the wind and rain would make the track doubly hard to follow and dangerous.
Point three: The cold and wet would be even more debilitating for the injured man he'd left behind.
Point four: He was tired and his aching muscles were beginning to seize up. He was a fit man, but he'd run several miles over rough terrain with a full pack. He didn't think he would have the energy to continue tonight.
The sugar must have reached his brain as he was beginning to feel more in control of the situation. He looked again at the dead radio. If he could mend that cord...
He got to his feet and staggered slightly as his muscles protested, but managed to walk over to the radio.
He turned off the power, removed the cover to the radio and looked inside.
"Damn."
Curled up in a nest of wiring were a family of baby rats. Mother was clearly off gathering food having left her off spring in a nice, warm, sheltered bed. A bed made up of the intricate workings of the now useless radio.
If he'd been stronger, he'd have exterminated them, knowing they were a noxious pest. But now he felt as if he'd lost the last of his strength. He made it back to the bunk and fell onto it. His clothes were wet, but he couldn't be bothered changing them. He dragged his sleeping bag out of the pack, laid it on top of himself and in spite of his worries instantly fell asleep.
He awoke before day-break feeling somewhat refreshed. He made himself a hasty breakfast and readied his pack for the days challenges. He thought of leaving the bag behind, but realised that if he were to have an accident it would be his only chance of survival.
As soon as the morning started to grow light he pushed off again. The weather was no better, but he knew that he should reach the first signs of civilisation before nightfall. He had to. Men's lives depended on it. IF he wasn't already too late....
*****
On Tracy Island the sun was still waiting for its time to make its appearance, Neil however was already up, in the gym. The rest of the household were still sound asleep. They were just starting to stir when he finished his session.
"Morning all." he said cheerfully as they all wondered bleary eyed into the kitchen.
Alan looked at him through eyes still caked with sleep. "How can you be so cheerful at this time of the morning."
"It's the best time of the day, everything seems bright and fresh and new..."
"And you sound like an ad for a laundry detergent." Gordon grumbled.
Whistling softly to himself, Neil helped prepare breakfast. Exchanges like that made him feel like he was finally becoming part of the family, part of the team.
He was ready with his scuba gear almost as soon as he'd finished breakfast. "C'mon Gordon, you promised to introduce me to an octopus today."
Gordon was still in his dressing gown. "Okay," he sighed, "give me a few minutes to get ready and I'll be with you."
"Anyone else want to join us?" Neil asked cheerfully.
"No thanks." Scott told him. "We've all got equipment checks we've got to do."
After Neil had left, Jeff laid down his knife. "He's good value. I'm glad we've hired him."
"Neil? Yeah, and he's fitting in well too." Scott was still finishing his breakfast.
"He's considerate too," Grandma added. "He doesn't just throw his clothes onto the floor instead of putting them in the laundry basket." She looked pointedly at Alan.
"He's a fast learner." Virgil was starting to clear the table. "I only had to show him how to operate the magnetic grabs once and he was using them like an old pro."
"H-he was able to offer me pertinent advice r-regarding the development of our latest f-fire extinguisher." Brains was appreciative of Neil's skills too.
Tin-Tin also felt that Neil was an asset. "He's updated me on some of the latest first aid techniques. I should go on a refresher course..." She looked hopefully at Jeff.
"You're right honey. I'll arrange for you to go on a course and then you can refresh us all."
*****
The dense bush restricted the amount of rain that was able to seep though, but the track was still wet and slippery. He pressed on regardless.
The track suddenly disappeared from under his feet and he slid, out of control, down an avalanche of rock, mud, leaves and branches. He reached out for something to control his descent, but nothing held him. He was slamming into jutting roots and jagged stones. His pack snagged on an outstretched branch and he was jolted to a stop. He found himself dangling above a precipice, the straps from his pack, cutting into his armpits but saving him from falling all the way to the riverbed below. His legs, arms and face stung from the cuts and bruises they'd received, but he was otherwise unhurt.
Now what was he supposed to do? Trying not to shift his weight he looked around him. The heavy rains had clearly weakened the hillside and swept the track away in a landslide. There was no way that they would be able to get a stretcher out this way. To his right was bare loose soil. The rains causing it to continue to wash down the hillside. To his left the hillside was still intact, but out of arms reach. He carefully turned to look behind him, but his pack obliterated his view.
The pelting rain was making it difficult for him to keep his eyes open, so he was working mainly by touch. Moving slowly he inched his way upwards until he was able to sit on a bit of ground that seemed relatively secure. He then removed his arms from his pack straps and turned so that he had hold of the branch that had stopped his fall. Now that he was able to see behind him he realised that the contents of his pack were strewn about. As he watched his first aid kit slid past him and over the edge. It burst on impact and rolled down to the riverbank, festooning a trail of bandages as it went.
He examined his pack. It was now useless, having been ripped wide open, but he had no desire to cause it to follow the first aid kit, as it had saved his life.
He felt inside and was surprised to find a surviving energy bar, a little broken but with it's protective covering still intact. He put it into his pocket.
Now what to do? He manoeuvred himself so that he was straddling the branch that had quite probably saved his life, and examined his pack more closely. The framework was bent but still intact and the straps still strong. If he could lasso a branch he might be able to swing across to the undamaged hillside. He tried several times and failed.
A fraction higher up the hill was an overhanging branch. He couldn't reach it from a sitting position, but if he could stand...
Still working slowly, trying to keep his weight constant and even, he stood up, and got as close to a balanced footing as was possible on a 15 centimetre wide branch. He then took a few experimental swings before aiming for the lifeline.
It was too much for his foot stand. With a loud crack it broke and once again he found himself careering down the cliff face towards the rocks below.
Once again his luck held. His outstretched pack snagged yet another branch and despite complaints from his muscles he managed to keeps his grip on the other strap. His downward momentum forced him to continue moving at a diagonal angle until he slammed into a rock and stopped. He was winded, sore but alive.
He lay still for a while trying to get his breath back, and then crawled into the relative safety of the bush and sat with his back braced against a tree. Reaching into his pocket he retrieved the energy bar and ripped open one end. It's contents had largely been reduced to powder and he poured them into his mouth.
After a few moments he felt strong enough to continue the climb down to the riverbank below. There he knew he would find the continuation of the path that would lead him to civilisation and alert the authorities to the emergency that he had left a day and a half ago. He had all but forgotten the reason for his flight in the terrifying drama that had occurred over the last few minutes. Was he risking his neck in vain?
He continued on his way.
Robin Shirtcliffe skidded down the muddy slope, hit the bottom and kept on running. Supplejack plants threatened to throttle him, as the New Zealand Department of Conservation Ranger blundered through their tendrils. Bush Lawyer, it's long thin leaves covered in spines, grabbed his bush shirt, scratched his face and hands, and impeded his progress, but he paid them no mind. He had to keep moving. Birds fled deep into the bush to escape this human projectile.
He rounded a corner in broke into a clearing. Ahead lay a D.o.C. hut. That would have a two-way radio! The door slammed back against the wall as he raced inside. There was the radio! He grabbed the hand piece and without waiting to gather breath, switched it on.
There was no reassuring crackle of static. The machine remained mute. Feverishly he scanned the dials to check the settings were correct and then pulled the table out from the wall to check the connections. It was then that he realised why the radio wasn't working. The power cord that connected it to the solar panel had been gnawed through. A small, recent, pile of droppings identified the culprit as a rat.
Suddenly his pack felt as if it were made of lead and he slid it from his aching shoulders. He was cold and he was wet. He was also hungry. Numb fingers refused to co-operate as he tried to open the pack. Once he had managed to extract an energy bar he sat down on one of the bunks to consider his options.
Point one: He had to get help as soon as possible.
Point two: It was starting to get dark, and the wind and rain would make the track doubly hard to follow and dangerous.
Point three: The cold and wet would be even more debilitating for the injured man he'd left behind.
Point four: He was tired and his aching muscles were beginning to seize up. He was a fit man, but he'd run several miles over rough terrain with a full pack. He didn't think he would have the energy to continue tonight.
The sugar must have reached his brain as he was beginning to feel more in control of the situation. He looked again at the dead radio. If he could mend that cord...
He got to his feet and staggered slightly as his muscles protested, but managed to walk over to the radio.
He turned off the power, removed the cover to the radio and looked inside.
"Damn."
Curled up in a nest of wiring were a family of baby rats. Mother was clearly off gathering food having left her off spring in a nice, warm, sheltered bed. A bed made up of the intricate workings of the now useless radio.
If he'd been stronger, he'd have exterminated them, knowing they were a noxious pest. But now he felt as if he'd lost the last of his strength. He made it back to the bunk and fell onto it. His clothes were wet, but he couldn't be bothered changing them. He dragged his sleeping bag out of the pack, laid it on top of himself and in spite of his worries instantly fell asleep.
He awoke before day-break feeling somewhat refreshed. He made himself a hasty breakfast and readied his pack for the days challenges. He thought of leaving the bag behind, but realised that if he were to have an accident it would be his only chance of survival.
As soon as the morning started to grow light he pushed off again. The weather was no better, but he knew that he should reach the first signs of civilisation before nightfall. He had to. Men's lives depended on it. IF he wasn't already too late....
*****
On Tracy Island the sun was still waiting for its time to make its appearance, Neil however was already up, in the gym. The rest of the household were still sound asleep. They were just starting to stir when he finished his session.
"Morning all." he said cheerfully as they all wondered bleary eyed into the kitchen.
Alan looked at him through eyes still caked with sleep. "How can you be so cheerful at this time of the morning."
"It's the best time of the day, everything seems bright and fresh and new..."
"And you sound like an ad for a laundry detergent." Gordon grumbled.
Whistling softly to himself, Neil helped prepare breakfast. Exchanges like that made him feel like he was finally becoming part of the family, part of the team.
He was ready with his scuba gear almost as soon as he'd finished breakfast. "C'mon Gordon, you promised to introduce me to an octopus today."
Gordon was still in his dressing gown. "Okay," he sighed, "give me a few minutes to get ready and I'll be with you."
"Anyone else want to join us?" Neil asked cheerfully.
"No thanks." Scott told him. "We've all got equipment checks we've got to do."
After Neil had left, Jeff laid down his knife. "He's good value. I'm glad we've hired him."
"Neil? Yeah, and he's fitting in well too." Scott was still finishing his breakfast.
"He's considerate too," Grandma added. "He doesn't just throw his clothes onto the floor instead of putting them in the laundry basket." She looked pointedly at Alan.
"He's a fast learner." Virgil was starting to clear the table. "I only had to show him how to operate the magnetic grabs once and he was using them like an old pro."
"H-he was able to offer me pertinent advice r-regarding the development of our latest f-fire extinguisher." Brains was appreciative of Neil's skills too.
Tin-Tin also felt that Neil was an asset. "He's updated me on some of the latest first aid techniques. I should go on a refresher course..." She looked hopefully at Jeff.
"You're right honey. I'll arrange for you to go on a course and then you can refresh us all."
*****
The dense bush restricted the amount of rain that was able to seep though, but the track was still wet and slippery. He pressed on regardless.
The track suddenly disappeared from under his feet and he slid, out of control, down an avalanche of rock, mud, leaves and branches. He reached out for something to control his descent, but nothing held him. He was slamming into jutting roots and jagged stones. His pack snagged on an outstretched branch and he was jolted to a stop. He found himself dangling above a precipice, the straps from his pack, cutting into his armpits but saving him from falling all the way to the riverbed below. His legs, arms and face stung from the cuts and bruises they'd received, but he was otherwise unhurt.
Now what was he supposed to do? Trying not to shift his weight he looked around him. The heavy rains had clearly weakened the hillside and swept the track away in a landslide. There was no way that they would be able to get a stretcher out this way. To his right was bare loose soil. The rains causing it to continue to wash down the hillside. To his left the hillside was still intact, but out of arms reach. He carefully turned to look behind him, but his pack obliterated his view.
The pelting rain was making it difficult for him to keep his eyes open, so he was working mainly by touch. Moving slowly he inched his way upwards until he was able to sit on a bit of ground that seemed relatively secure. He then removed his arms from his pack straps and turned so that he had hold of the branch that had stopped his fall. Now that he was able to see behind him he realised that the contents of his pack were strewn about. As he watched his first aid kit slid past him and over the edge. It burst on impact and rolled down to the riverbank, festooning a trail of bandages as it went.
He examined his pack. It was now useless, having been ripped wide open, but he had no desire to cause it to follow the first aid kit, as it had saved his life.
He felt inside and was surprised to find a surviving energy bar, a little broken but with it's protective covering still intact. He put it into his pocket.
Now what to do? He manoeuvred himself so that he was straddling the branch that had quite probably saved his life, and examined his pack more closely. The framework was bent but still intact and the straps still strong. If he could lasso a branch he might be able to swing across to the undamaged hillside. He tried several times and failed.
A fraction higher up the hill was an overhanging branch. He couldn't reach it from a sitting position, but if he could stand...
Still working slowly, trying to keep his weight constant and even, he stood up, and got as close to a balanced footing as was possible on a 15 centimetre wide branch. He then took a few experimental swings before aiming for the lifeline.
It was too much for his foot stand. With a loud crack it broke and once again he found himself careering down the cliff face towards the rocks below.
Once again his luck held. His outstretched pack snagged yet another branch and despite complaints from his muscles he managed to keeps his grip on the other strap. His downward momentum forced him to continue moving at a diagonal angle until he slammed into a rock and stopped. He was winded, sore but alive.
He lay still for a while trying to get his breath back, and then crawled into the relative safety of the bush and sat with his back braced against a tree. Reaching into his pocket he retrieved the energy bar and ripped open one end. It's contents had largely been reduced to powder and he poured them into his mouth.
After a few moments he felt strong enough to continue the climb down to the riverbank below. There he knew he would find the continuation of the path that would lead him to civilisation and alert the authorities to the emergency that he had left a day and a half ago. He had all but forgotten the reason for his flight in the terrifying drama that had occurred over the last few minutes. Was he risking his neck in vain?
He continued on his way.