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Lady luck shining on you.


wolfy
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I was working on a moving machine that was on a rail and it was as noisy as hell and I had to walk along with it ,inspecting various things.

 

Normally you have a watchman with you if he can be bothered.

 

I was walking backwards at slow speed , about 2mph when this machine grabbed my rigger boot and started to drag me under.

 

I panicked and screamed for help and luckily the lad who was supposed to be watching over me, came back at the right time and stopped the machine.

 

I asked him if he heard my screams and he said "no, it was just luck that he happened to turn and see me at that time"

 

That's what I get for being a clever bastard walking backwards in front of the machine.

 

Anyone else had any lucky escapes from death ?

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The initial post sounds like an episode of Casualty gone wrong. Fucking sobering to come that close to getting your leg mangled though.

 

Don't think I've ever had anything similar.

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The first stage (the bit on the tank) of my University club regulator froze SHUT when I was diving in cold conditions - at about 20 metres.

 

Absolutely fucking terrifying tbh. They are designed to freeze open should things ever get that bad.

 

My buddy's spare regulator (2nd stage - the mouthpiece) was a completely different design to mine which I was not familiar with, you had to turn your head to the side to purge it otherwise each breath was half full of icy water.

 

There was quite a lot of frantic fucking around and semi choking until I was breathing normally and we ascended 60ft to the surface.

 

I bought my own kit after that.

Edited by trophyshy
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Had a few scrapes.

I was abseiling down to a sea stack in Cornwall when the rope came away and I fell about 30ft. Landed spreadeagled, on a rock protruding from the sand. If I hadn't had a rucksack full of rope on, I reckon I'd probably be in a wheelchair now at best.

As it was I was just winded to fuck.

Got trapped between a rock face and two capsized Canadian Canoes at the side of a rapid once. I was sitting in an eddy, happy as Larry, when this knacker thought I was in trouble, and came piling down the rapid to " rescue" me. He hit me side on, capsized both of us and was washed away downstream, leaving me pinned by my legs between an undercut cliff and two rapidly filling canoes ( full of water, you're looking at a good 300kg each). The weight of water in the canoes, plus the force of the current, meant I was getting dragged down underwater and into the underwater cave I'd been happily sitting above 30 seconds earlier.

I went under and thought ,

" You're fucked here mate unless you do something. "

Dumped my buoyancy aid ( which was trying to pull me to the surface, as the boats were pulling me down) and managed to free my foot, which I then pushed like a bastard against the canoes until I managed to free my other leg. I shot back up to the surface and climbed to a ledge where I could recover.

Barring a pair of skinned shins I was fine.

According to my mates I was under for between 20-30 seconds, felt like a lot longer. The boats didn't come up for another 5 minutes.

 

Lucky?

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Lost control of my car about 15 years ago, ran off the road into some trees and ended up with a huge tree at each corner of the car as if a giant had picked it up and placed it there - got out unhurt and still don't understand how it got like that but I reckon any impact on any of the 4 trees and at best I'd be typing this with a straw a la Hawking.

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Once had a seizure in the middle of a soon to be busy road at 5 am. Luckily an old lady was out with her dog for an early stroll and called an ambulance.

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I've had a few. Last years one was the one that shook me up the most. I'd been to Sunderland Dogs, and was heading back towards Sunderland, well Seaburn station as it happens, CT will know the road it's a dual carriage way, I was drunk but not mortal, anyway there's like a little central reservation I fuckin tripped big time did a proper Klinsmann head first in to the road on a very dark night, there was a car coming towards me, and he slammed the breaks on I thought I was ganna die, and I'm not saying this for effect the car came to a halt 5 feet from my head. I was fucking shaking.

 

Another time I was 14 in Austria with the school, me and this kid who's a good lad but a right charva, been on front of the Chronicle loads of times, we were shot at by this fat cunt Austrian, I think it was an air rifle, but he missed and we reported it to one of the teckers who did fuck all, and thought we were making it up.

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Heard a rumour you once tackled a rogue puma that was roaming the streets of North Shields attacking vagrants. Can you confirm if this is true or is it just another "Gemmill" urban myth.

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Heard a rumour you once tackled a rogue puma that was roaming the streets of North Shields attacking vagrants. Can you confirm if this is true or is it just another "Gemmill" urban myth.

 

Myth.

 

It was a Leopard.

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Heard a rumour you once tackled a rogue puma that was roaming the streets of North Shields attacking vagrants. Can you confirm if this is true or is it just another "Gemmill" urban myth.

 

Yeah but the puma tells that one as his brush with death story. Cos I fucked that shit up yo.

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I've had several kebabs from kebab vans.

That's not luckily avoiding death, that's goosing the Reaper himself!

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Around '89 me and a mate used to work the summer holidays in Hastings for his roofing contrsctor dad who'd moved down there . Was the best of times, but looking back some of the stuff he had us doing it's now apparent he had no love for his son - never mind me !

 

One of the maddes - and my scariest near death scenario - came when we were working on a 5 storey grand terraced seafront property. One of the last jobs on it (having previously dismantled the old fire escape with angle grinders :) ) was to repoint the chimney breast .

 

No scaffold or safety boards and we're up on the roof. Given I was the tallest I was delegated as the man to reach all of this 12' tall chimney breast with cement mix one hand and 'applicator' in other. But in my tar-splattered Diadora Borg Elite I'm not 12 foot tall by this age. A team meeting to determine the working method was quickly conducted and a wooden pair of stepladders were made available to staff. The ladder was put up straddling the ridge with the bottom rung resting on the ridge tile. Steptoe & Son either side of ladder on the slope of the slate roof as support. Up I go with the runny cement and a broom head applicator device to flick this shit into the voids of the joints. Five storeys down to my right - the promenade and sea, to my left a central courtyard. Being right on the front there was a canny breeze too.

 

I was literally on the third top rung of this wooden ladder with me face pressed against the stack (for balance) holding the bucket in one hand and the bastard brush ficking this stuff, stretching out as far as I could. It's going all over and getting in my eyes and allsorts and they're giving it all the 'you've missed a bit' carry-on. . I've fuckin missed a bit ya's ! I'm actually a bit tricky with heights because of that day. And we all lived happily ever after.

Edited by LoveTheBobby
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