Search and rescue operations were briefly (and somewhat dramatically) deployed at camp this morning after Debbie offered to do the noble deed of emptying the toilet cassette.
Now, some people think I exaggerate when I say Debbie has no sense of direction — that she could get lost in our own garden if given half a chance. But let the record show: I do not exaggerate.
Whenever we head bush, I make absolutely sure she’s equipped with all the essentials — radio, GPS, backup batteries, and even a whistle — because, frankly, the woman could wander off from a straight road.
So, when she cheerfully volunteered to find the dump point (which, I might add, is literally behind the reception building we both visited earlier this week), I figured she’d be fine. What could possibly go wrong?
Ten minutes later, I happened to glance up and saw our bright orange car cruising slowly up and down the complete opposite end of the caravan park, clearly searching for something that was nowhere near there. No phone. No radio. No GPS. Just pure determination and confusion in equal measure.
While it wasn’t exactly a life-or-death situation, I felt morally obligated to initiate a mild search-and-rescue mission. I tracked her down, guided her safely to her destination, and the cassette was successfully emptied without further incident.
I suppose every good expedition needs a navigator. Unfortunately for us, Debbie isn’t it.