So we were off to a really good start with the rescue, can you read my sarcasm? No? Well let me explain. Frank, he who needed to be rescued, hadn’t started out well by mistaking my brother Matthew who was visiting me and along for the ride, for me. Okay that’s not a huge deal, as I’ve told you before plenty of people mistake the name Dean for a male creature and I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t part of the reason I used the name in all advertising. But it was what happened next that caused the sarcastic comment I started with.
Before Matthew had a chance to correct our new friend, Frank opened his mouth and earned himself a new nickname. Instead of letting Matthew tell him that I was Dean and I would be the one preforming any rescue Frank had to make a comment about my presence being part of some “bring your secretary to work day”.
I’m not a vindictive person, I didn’t take my bat and ball and leave Frank to rescue himself, partly because rescuing was my job but mostly because abandoning someone in the Aussie outback is just not the done thing. I did however make up the nickname Mr. Beckham, figuring that his single digit IQ matched that of the English soccer player who married someone from the spice rack.
The funny, silly funny, not humorous funny, thing about Mr. Beckham’s mistake was that once it was pointed out to him he neither apologised for the mistake or the insult he simply passed it off and started to tell Matthew why it was he got stuck. That’s right despite it being pointed out to him in no uncertain terms that I was Dean and I was performing the rescue he was still talking to Matthew and not to me.
I suppose it was fair enough he was talking to Matthew it’s not like I needed his words to tell me what happened I could see for myself that it was a whole bunch of testosterone and a lack of brain cells that saw the four wheel drive bogged like it was. The initial incident might have been an unavoidable error but despite Mr. Beckham’s claim that the Toyota sunk in the soft sand I could tell the main reason it was stuck where it was was because he’d sat there spinning the wheels and digging himself deeper into the hole.
While Mr. Beckham was entertaining Matthew I set about the rescue, it wasn’t an overly difficult rescue all I had to do was pull the stuck four wheel drive straight out and given the angle it was on straight out from the front was the way it was going to work best.
Once the Beast was in position directly in front of the Toyota I hooked the winch and used the remote to free spool it off the tray.
“Make sure you attach that to the tow hook babe!” Mr. Beckham called out from the sidelines with a hint of laughter in his voice. He then turned to Matthew and said, “Maybe you should get down there and check to make sure she hooks it on properly.”
“I don’t think so.” I heard Matthew reply. Like me he knew there was no point standing up and trying to convince someone like Mr. Beckham that he was acting like a dickhead.
Now there is two main options when it comes to pulling out such a vehicle. Firstly in some cases a ‘snatch’ strap may work, it’s a direct pull with a large bungee like strap that used momentum and the spring of the strap to pull the vehicle out. Although the Beast had more power and pull than the second Toyota I decided against such a pull simply because it was the way Mr. Beckham had buried himself so deep when they had used the snatch strap the first time.
My choice was to use the winch to pull the vehicle out, as I’ve suggested it was an over engineered winch and after digging out some of the sand from the front of the vehicle the pull would happen without issue. The only small issue I had with the pull was the brain of the vehicle’s owner given that I didn’t think he’d let Matthew sit in the driver’s seat while I pulled his vehicle out.
I was taking my gloves off after hooking the winch cable when I heard, “Oh no darlin’, did you break a nail?”
Hearing such comments I could see why Mr. Beckham’s mates chose to stay away from the rescue. I would later find out that they too had given up trying to change his chauvinistic pig headed attitudes.
“If you would like to get in and steer the vehicle out while I pull it up with the winch that would be appreciated.” I said to Mr. Beckham figuring Matthew would be happy for the break from his new friend.
“No worries sweetie pie! Don’t pull me too hard darlin’!”
Honestly not cringing was difficult but I did my best. “First gear, slowly as it goes and no spinning!”
I know Mr. Beckham knew what I was requesting, he only needed to put enough power to his wheels to turn them and assist the winch. The instant they started to lose grip and spin he was digging himself deeper and fighting against the winch. But of course he couldn’t manage such a simple task. Okay maybe I am being a little unfair here because there is very few people in Mr. Beckham’s position who don’t spin the wheels at least once, but there is a huge difference between spinning the wheels as you feather the throttle and sending plumes of sand out from under the tyres like this idiot was doing.
Previous Desert Rescue story here.