The Firehouse

Browsing through some old photo albums, I came across a set of photos from my years with the Kinder Mountain Rescue Team, based in Hayfield, UK. After going through high school in Southend, near London, I moved to Whaley Bridge, a small town south of Manchester, to pursue my degree in Aeronautical Engineering at the University of Salford. One day, while walking towards the popular Kinder reservoir area for a weekend walk, I noticed a small hut belonging to the KMRT, and basically crashed into one of their meetings. After talking to some people from the exec team, I was accepted as a probie, not without a strange look on some faces (“what’s this guy from Spain who we’ve never seen before doing here?” sort of look). Normal probie period is six months, but, normally probies are introduced by team members, who know them and their capabilities and can make the recommendation. I was coming out of the blue, so I spent about a year as a probie, before being admitted as a full member.

Why, would you ask? Well, a couple of years earlier, I broke an ankle while descending a winter route in the French Pyrenees, and was brought to safety by a mountain rescue team. Ever since, I felt there was something I had to pay back – and this was the chance. During my stay with the KMRT, we performed all sorts of operations, from rescues of people with broken limbs, to searches for lost walkers. We trained a lot, and participated in huge exercises involving many local teams, Police, RAF helicopters and aircraft, K-9 units, and the ambulance service. One of the exercises I keep pictures of is a paper helicopter crash on Kinder plateau (we used the word ‘paper’ to describe anything fictional in the contest of an exercise, for example, “call the paper RAF and request a paper helicopter and a paper ambulance”, just in case anyone listening on the radio thought it was the real thing):

Getting the simulated victim into a heavy Bell stretcher. These things were heavy, so heavy they were carried by two people, one half each!

Bob Whittall, the team leader at the time, in his yellow jacket.

A very realistic victim, with a very realistic amputated limb. The excellent members of the Casualties Union provide the most believable victims you can find, with makeup, real bone fragments (from sheep of course!), and other surprises. Everything you’d need to film a good zombie movie.

Finally, this picture was taken during a winter route in Scotland, the most remarkable fact being that we had perfect weather – which is something to put in your memoirs. As we descended, a single, tiny, white and fluffy cloud passed by, as if saying “yeah, you’re not going to get away -that- easily!”. For the record, Andy was just making fun with the ice pick, he didn’t actually hit anyone!

I miss you guys!

Airport security is doomed to fail in preventing terrorist attacks. Unless they want us to fly naked and possibly even then get an X-ray and proctologist exam before boarding, there is no way they can prevent nasty things happening.

We are currently forced into placing our toiletries (gels, perfume, shaving cream) into a small clear plastic bag, presumably because the small clear plastic bag will contain the brutal force of a liquid explosive going off inside it. Actually, the explosion would not be that spectacular, as The Register explained.

I happened to travel to London from Barcelona on the 20th, but on flight BA477, the early morning one – had I picked the later flight at 11 AM, BA478, I would have been on one of the aircraft contaminated with Polonium-210. On the way back that afternoon, we flew out of Gatwick, as the Heathrow flight was full…which happened to be BA479, also a contaminated flight. Near-miss on both trips.
Polonium-210 is a highly radioactive substance, but which emits alpha particles, which travel slow and cannot even penetrate the human skin. This makes it very difficult to detect, and since a dose of 1 milligram can kill a human, it is very easy to conceal and transport many lethal doses, for example, inside a pen. Delivery to a victim can be through water or food, inhalation, or an open wound. It’s unlikely a terrorist would start placing little pellets of Polonium in the food trays delivered during a flight, but he could empty one of the sub-100cc bottles he conveniently carried onboard in the clear plastic bag in the lavatory, a place likely visited by most passengers during a long flight.

The next obvious question is – how easy is it to obtain Polonium-210? Very easy, actually. Although it is a byproduct of nuclear reactors, United Nuclear sells license-exempt quantities to the general public. How easy is it to obtain Polonium-210 in toxic quantities? Not that easy – a lot of hype has been passed around the media regarding United Nuclear, but as their special note states, you would need to spend $1 million and order 15.000 samples to have a toxic amount of the stuff. Samples ordered are produced on demand at a reactor in Oak Ridge, Tennessee.

We should not worry too much about getting a whiff of Polonium-210 on our next flight, but we should raise against the draconian “security” measures imposed by panels of would-be experts. We are not realizing that the terrorists are winning one battle, which is to make us live in fear and paranoia, when the actual chances of dying in a terrorist attack are smaller than tripping over on the sidewalk and fatally hitting your head on the concrete. Maybe we should outlaw sidewalks…

This Christmas, we should be receiving a gift we have been waiting for over 20 years. Our volunteer Fire Department started with a 4-wheel-drive and a cart-mounted 100 gallon water tank, and has since progressed to become the proud owners of two large all-terrain pumpers and one 4-wheel-drive with a small tank & pump for fast response. For the last seven years, we have been housed in a small portion of the basement of the town’s sports hall, sharing the space with many other organizations and groups, including the Police depot. It was simple, very dusty, no showers, toilets, changing or sleeping facilities, and barely space to sit around and be comfortable during a tour.

Before

These are some pictures of what the old house looked like.

The entrance. Bombers in Catalan can be translated as ‘pumpers’, from the word ‘bomba’ which means pump. As a matter of fact, the French call themselves Pompiers, so it ties in. Nothing to do with bombs, believe me!

This is the “control room”. Yeah, stop laughing. It looks real ugly now, as we have not really used the place much in the last two months, as construction work all around it have made it unbearably dusty.

Truck 202 and the 4-wheel, sleeping in a cold, humid and ugly place. The will soon have a much more comfortable stay.

Our mini-museum, showing some glass beer and perfume bottles, recovered from a house fire a few years ago. The heat was intense enough to deform the bottles into the shape you see, but not intense enough to turn them into glass blobs. Underneath are some very old nozzles.

More photos here.

The new firehouse

Here are some pictures of the construction work going on. It is still rough and unfinished, but it definitely has a shape now. All should be done by Christmas, when we will move in and provide the finishing touches.

Truck 202’s new sleeping quarters. In this space we could actually fit two trucks, it’s really amazing that after so many years, we are getting so much room!

This is the view from where the kitchen will be, towards the entrance, on the left. The Flickr photo has some comment notes. The doors on the left lead to the sleeping quarters and changing rooms & showers. We will keep the high ceiling, it makes the place look roomier.

This is a reverse look, towards the kitchen, which will go against the wall at the back.

In all, we are really happy that finally, after many years of only asking for a decent place to stay during tours, in return for our time spent fighting fires, rescuing cats, horses (don’t ask!) and other animals from the most unlikely places, pumping out water during floods, rescuing people and delivering food during heavy snowfalls, we will get a very decent firehouse.

Last week I had to go to Romania for a meeting with a team of coders, landing at Cluj-Napoca on Tuesday. Scheduled to return on Wednesday, I duly turned up at the airport by 08:00, joining the long line leading to the security checkpoint. Wait. A long line? We’re talking about an airport with a single runway, one transfer bus (you could actually walk the 50 yards to the plane, but hey, if they have it they might aswell put it to some use!), about a dozen flights a day, all of them small turboprops with a capacity for around 60 people – which usually fly half empty.

So, what was the reason for the holdup? An overzealous security guard, who stared at each bag on the x-ray monitor while squinting his eyes as if it would bring more detail to the picture. After the long radioactive scrutiny, he would open the bags, shout a few things to their owners, and sometimes pull things out of them. Dangerous stuff such as sticks of SEMTEX I though.

When my turn arrived, some forty minutes later, I was rather curious apart from annoyed at what was captivating this guard. I should have guessed. Romania must have a healthy black market for….spray deodorants. My tiny Nivea sample spray tin was also taken, with a bad boy stare from the guard.

According to international safety regulations, flammable sprays are not allowed on board aircraft (albeit agencies such as the TSA allow toiletries in small quantities), just as dangerous chemicals, explosives, live ammunition, and a whole bunch of other nasty stuff. This guy had the right to take away my little piece of odour-fighting equipment – but was it really necessary to do so? I had almost calmed down, fearing I would miss my connection at Vienna, when I noticed the also tiny duty-free shop, which looked recently refurbished. On a closer look, they were selling…yep, you guessed it – a truckload of flammable products, from large hair sprays ten times larger than my former deodorant, to cologne with a high alcohol content. I could have just bought one and carried on with my world domination plans just as well, but all I wanted was to get to Vienna.

This got me thinking about the recent hubbub about exploding Dell laptops, basically when their batteries vented with flame and smoke, as it is technically defined. Laptop batteries are made of lithium-cobalt, or more recently, lithium-manganese oxide. This type of chemistry is very efficient at holding charge, and making it available at high rates, without damage or aging to the battery. The drawback is that they are very dangerous. A lithium battery can explode violently, sending chemicals and debris out at high speed and causing a lot of damage. They can also vent with flame and smoke, as seen in Dell’s promotional footage. For a great explanation of battery technologies, visit the Battery University.

The TSA officially allows laptops and their batteries in both checked and cabin luggage, so do we have to worry? If you ever find yourself sitting next to a burning laptop on a flight, take this comforting thought with you: there is nothing on the plane that can put out a lithium chemical fire.

Happy flying!