Reef Knot Rescue

Reef_knot_2 Have just returned from a round trip of 360 miles to Plymouth and much hilarity in the face of adversity!  Never thought I would have to call on the ‘reef knot’ I learned at Brownies sometime in the last century.

Along the M5 I bombed when, suddenly, something of a failed engineering nature beat the windscreen.  Pulling onto the hard shoulder and coming to a speedy halt from an speed in excess of the 70mph regulation, I flicked on the hazards and alighted from my vehicle, fearless in the face of pounding rain and the heavy traffic approaching from behind.  Soon diagnosed problem . . . even a blind man couldn’t miss it . . . the whole metal section forming the ‘T’ section of the wiper blade was lying, buckled on the windscreen.  Wearing no coat and in a Force 10 (or so it seemed through my thin top), I sought sanctuary back in the warmth of the car.  My friend, Vivian, was panicking like a good ‘un!  I said, "Fear not, we have one blade" and so we progressed to the nearest service station. 

It’s many a long year since I laughed so much I couldn’t stand but it was such an occasion tonight.  Aware that we were on CCTV, we parked adjacent to a petrol pump to shelter and have light to assess damage and carry out the repair.  I went into the shop and explained our predicament, namely that we needed a piece of wire or string for running repairs to the wiper.  Well, the chap behind the counter started me off as he attempted to give me eight feet of twine for a job requiring 6".  Not wishing to be rude, I kept the lid on the exploding mirth within as I asked him to cut me a short length from the veritable extension cable to hand.  Off I went.  By this time, the whole thing was hysterically funny in a black comedy sort of way.  "Stand back", I said "a reef knot is required here".  By this time Vivian was in danger of losing control of her bladder.  I made the repair and switched on.  The whole thing twisted horribly.  Even more hilarity. 

Decided another 6" length of said twine was needed.  Vivian went to ask this time as I knew it was a task too far for me and didn’t wish to appear rude as tears were streaming down my face by this time.  Why was it so funny?  Don’t ask me, just know I thought I was in labour judging by the pain emanating from my stomach muscles by this time.  I was hardly able to breathe and incapable of speech. 

Vivian arrived with second length of twine.  Man shuffled out from garage, not to help as one might expect, but to pick up litter.   More hilarity.  "Don’t have one that big" he muttered as he walked past.  We realised he was referring to the missing clip which was somewhere on the Northbound carriageway of the M5.  Somehow we managed a few more reef knots and I advised Vivian to stand back for the final pre-flight checks.  Wiper thingy secure, white twine knots looking most impressive, if a little inelegant.  We got back into the car and somehow I managed to drive around the corner.  Had to park for a while because by this time seriously short of oxygen and had lost use of legs, a frequent occurrence of mine when engaging in manic laughter.  Took several minutes to regain composure.

Filtered out into the nearside lane of motorway to ensure I was in control of both myself and the vehicle before proceeding to up the speed.  Then, more hilarity as we realised Sod’s Law had kicked in – all rain had stopped and it was crystal clear, not a drop to be seen! 

We sat in the front seats of the Megane, spent forces but satisfied.  "Who needs Men?", we thought.  Then, reality struck.  In all the hilarity I had LOST the competition we had been having to see who could suck their Little Chef lolly the longest without biting it.  In all the laughter, I had not only lost control of most of my faculties, but had bitten through the lolly.  Sod it!

No related posts.

Please Leave A Comment...