Sometimes we get ourselves in trouble, and sometimes all it takes is a few good men or women to help us get out.
Our friends from Cleveland came East for a visit last weekend. The nine of us decided to go on a booze cruise around Casco Bay. Booze and music, that is. I confirmed over the phone that the ship was wheelchair accessible, including an elevator between the two decks.
At 7:30, after a nice dinner at Sebago Brewing Company, we boarded the Bay Mist, one of the ships operated by Casco Bay Lines. We decided the best place to hang out would be on the upper deck. One of the crewmembers came by and said he would operate the wheelchair lift for me. He opened the door, and I drove in. My Permobil wheelchair barely fit. There was no room for another passenger.
I started inching up. About two feet shy of the top floor, the lift stopped. Oh crap.
The crew and Kim communicated with me through the glass window at the top door and via cell phone. Not to worry, they were working on the problem. It started to get warm in the elevator. I didn’t feel claustrophobic, per se, but I did want some fresh air.
After about ten minutes, the elevator began moving again, and I exited onto the top floor, no worse for the wear.
We had fun on the top deck — watching the sunset, sipping on cocktails, and enjoying one another’s company. Then I heard my phone ring. Who was calling? Nature, of course.
“Kim, I need to use the bathroom.”
“The only bathrooms are on the lower deck.”
We decided that, because of potential problems with the lift, when we reached the lower deck we would stay there for the rest of the three-hour cruise.
The ship’s crew helped me down to the lower deck. The lift performed well with gravity on its side. I used the bathroom, and then we surveyed our surroundings. We didn’t want to be there. I decided to take a chance with the lift and go back upstairs.
Again, things worked well until I was about two feet shy of the upper deck, at which time the lift came to a stop. On this occasion, however, the crew couldn’t get it going again. After about 20 minutes, I told Kim over the phone, “It’s getting hot in here. Let’s just have them take me back down to the lower deck.”
Nice plan Mitch, but this time the lift wouldn’t go up or down. I was stuck.
Fortunately, the crew figured out how to open the elevator door at the top and let fresh air in. I was comfortable, and not panicked at all, but I was still stuck in an elevator. My friend, Dawn, kept me lubricated with rum and cokes, and I made the best of it.
The crew was pleasant and helpful. While they kept troubleshooting the electronics, we discussed plan B. A group of four men, a.k.a. a few good men, with experience in the Armed Forces and the fire department, had volunteered to lift me out by hand if necessary. I didn’t want to be lifted out. It would probably hurt. I’m a big guy.
So, I encouraged the team to keep troubleshooting the motor and switches. After having been in the elevator for about an hour, I said, “Okay, give this one more try, and then call in the extraction team.”
My people found the few good men and asked if they were still willing to help out. “Hell yes,” they responded, ready for action.
On one of the earlier attempts, a crewmember had been able to pull up on a handle inside the elevator as we tried to run the motor, and we gained an inch or so of elevation. But this crewmember wasn’t a big man. With the few good men standing in front of the elevator waiting for their chance, I asked the strongest looking one if he would pull up on the elevator as we made this final attempt. He did, and all we gained was another inch.
“Let me try one more time,” the big guy said.
Again, we slowly gained an inch and then something happened. The muscles in his forearm rippled. His face turned red. The elevator began moving upward again, completely under his power. I rolled out onto the upper deck to the applause of my friends, the crew members, and the few good men.
Because of the change in tides, we disembarked from the top deck, and the rest of the evening was uneventful.
On Monday, when I spoke to the people at Casco Bay Lines they were very apologetic and explained that this was an old “screw type” lift, whereas all their other boats were equipped with hydraulic lifts. I will not go on the Bay Mist again unless they upgrade it. Casco Bay Lines agreed to refund the money for our entire group of nine people.
Sure, if I had been in my iBOT wheelchair, we would have used the stairs, but I certainly should have been able to enjoy this evening in my Permobil. Situations like this are completely avoidable. Lifts need to operate up to capacity, in a reliable way. That said, everyone who assisted me remained cool and calm. No tempers flared. We all worked toward the common goal of getting me out of the elevator. Thanks to a few good men, and one in particular, we succeeded.
I keep getting into trouble when I leave the safe confines of my home, but I’m not going to stop quite yet. There’s too much to see, too many fine people to meet, and too many adventures to experience.
12 Replies to “A Few Good Men”
MITCH, YOU continue to be an inspiration to so many of us.
Thank YOU for putting into perspective some of the issues / challenges we face each day~~~~
Please continue to share how you are"Enjoying the Ride".
Kathy
Kathy, I have no intention of stopping!
Glad everyone kept their cool (except for you, overheating in the elevator!) Also pleased to hear that Casco Bay Lines responded appropriately. Here's hoping that you won't need an extraction team again any time soon.
Lisa, I get a feeling this was not my last predicament requiring an extraction team!
A Three Hour Tour never bodes well. Kudos to you and your adventuring spirit, and all the helpful hands. I am constantly amazed at the kindness of strangers. https://youtu.be/yfSLuEj99d0
Gilligan’s Island was one of my favorite shows as a kid. My favorite character was the Prof., and I preferred Mary Ann over Ginger.
I was just there two weeks ago! I had inquired, and I got an email saying their boats were wheelchair-accessible. I called to verify that included power wheelchairs, and the young lady who spoke to me dissuaded me — she said the "elevators" were not made with heavy chairs in mind and they have had problems, and also that depending on the tide, I may have an uncomfortable/difficult time getting to the boat. And that was BEFORE your adventure!
Glad I dodged that bullet! (I also took a Duck Tour a couple of weeks ago, so… no lottery tickets for me this month. Used up all my luck.)
Isn’t that something. You were lucky to get an honest employee to respond to you.
Glad to hear that you still enjoyed your evening, Mitch. With no stairs or lifts to worry about, how do you rate the Permobil?
The permobil F5 VS is an awesome machine.
I knew there was something about those wheelchair lifts that I don't trust. It seems that they are not used enough for the people operating them to really know what they are doing, and also not used enough for anybody to know whether or not they are in proper working order.
It's amazing that that "good man" was able to lift the elevator on his own. Wouldn't want to get on his bad side.
Oh well, all's well that ends well, I guess. Glad that the cruise company do the right thing and paid for your entire group's trip. Things like that seem to be increasingly rare these days…
So true — these lifts are forgotten because they are so infrequently used. Then, when it’s time for them to perform, they come up short. Perhaps it’s my purpose in life to go around town and give these lifts a little exercise!
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