This is a true story written by a good friend of mine, about a very nearly fateful day whilst on holiday in Sicily, for both herself and her husband Lee (also a top lad and good friend) Michelle asked me a few days ago would it be ok for her to write a story and "Hijack my blog" as she put it. Of course, I said "Yes".
Michelle went on to say " The blog I'm writing isn't about bikes or anything but I wanted to write, for my own therapy, and share an example of how humour can be found at some of the most testing times of our lives and the story will be about how I nearly drowned on a holiday to Sicily about 18 months ago".
Hi Glenn, I've finally finished this story and its below. X
I recently watched a video of two men doing the North Coast 500 in Scotland on bikes as well as some people driving around it. Both videos talked of the hairpin bends and it reminded me of a holiday in Sicily in 2018 and I had intended to write a bit of a blog about it for therapeutic reasons, but never got round to it. Well nearly 2 years later, I've just written in. Perhaps not recommended for those who have bad memories out at sea, but I hope gives a bit of insight and at least, to always listen to your instincts.
Back in the Summer of 2018, we were fortunate to be given the opportunity to visit Sicily by a friend, Riccardo or Ricci as we've always referred to him. Ricci is very close to two of my nieces and nephew and knows my son too. He is so kind and easy to get along with and from a family get together the previous New Year's Day at our house, we got on talking about his home in Sicily and before we knew it, he had offered us free use of his family home if we fancied visiting Sicily. Wow-what a lovely offer, demonstrating just what kind of guy Ricci is and who, in their right mind, is going to turn that down! He was brought up in Sicily until a certain age then moved to the UK. However, the family home remained in Sicily where his whole family still use it as a base when visiting. So 6 months later we were at Manchester Airport, ready for the off.
We were travelling to Catania Airport as Ricci's family home was located in a beautiful little village in the Siracusa area. Manchester airport was as expected, busy but wow what a shambles the security process was. There was no 'queue' of sorts and Mary, Lee and I got separated in the throng of people who were desperate to get through. We had the usual, remove coats, shoes, anything in pockets, liquids bag removed from case etc. During the scuffle and pandemonium, Mary, unbeknown to her at the time, had clothes and hair tongs removed from her suitcase. She seemed to take ages to get through but once at the other end we found each other and organised ourselves 'back to normal'. When we arrived in Sicily Mary realised a number of items missing from her case including clothes and hair tongs. I wonder what they do with all of those items not put back in travellers cases.
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| Lee |
The approach to Catania Airport was stunning, as in the distance we saw Mount Etna and it was billowing smoke from its crater. The view was incredible. What an amazing start to our visit. Unboarded, through security and customs, picked up a hired car, all no problems. Fantastic. The drive from Catania to the village was lovely and we found the house very easily. The house is lovely and on 3 or 4 floors with a rooftop view that let you see for miles and miles. The village was called Canicattini Bagni and we observed a funeral procession on our first afternoon there. We were having a few drinks on the street outside the bar and every single person on that street stopped what they were doing, took off their hats and bowed their heads in respect. It was very moving and felt very traditional.
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| Mount Etna |
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| Mmmmmmmm! |
On, what I think it was the third day of our holiday, we decided to head out to the beach and relax. I did all of the driving to keep the insurance costs down, or at least that had been the plan before we left England. Lee and I work best when I drive and he map reads. That suits him well too as it means, he is generally the one who drinks (with his Mam), whilst I remain sober.
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On this day, we used the satnav, as usual, to get us to a beach. I actually have no recollection which beach we went to, but what I do recall is the satnav taking us up a huge mountain pass, I mean really big. I am a very confident driver, but I admit I was very nervous as we started to ascend up a large range of mountains, with thin winding narrow roads. The condition of the roads was poor, with loose rocks in many places especially at the edges of both sides of the road. There were a lot of hairpin bends. Lee immediately likened the drive to a scene from The Italian Job and as I nervously crept around one hairpin bend after another on the edge of huge cliff edges, Lee played that song from the beginning of The Italian Job, having a bit laugh like he does. The weather was beautiful with a blue cloudless sky. The warmth of the sun beating through the car windows was comforting balanced with the air con and the music and views made for a beautifully memorable experience. It was only the knowledge that I held the responsibility for everyone's life by having full control of the car, that gave it a nerving element. We eventually got somewhere near the top, drove on flat but windy roads for a little while, before I saw the descent in front of us. Again my nerves kicked in as I started to slowly descend, foot on the brake the whole way down to control the speed of the car. It was terrifying. Some of the downhill ratio descents felt almost vertical and there were countless hairpin bends. As we reached the bottom I remember saying, with huge relief, that had to be the biggest traumatic experience of our holiday and at least it was over and done with and we would definitely go home a different way. Oh, how wrong I was. We later learned that there was indeed a very straight forward way back, missing out the mountains entirely and it was a shorter journey. 🙄
We arrived at the coastline in no time at all and followed it along heading North I assume, as the coast was on our right-hand side. At some point, we saw a sign for a beach. The parking was to the left of us and about a 5-minute walk away from the beach itself. It was quite busy with cars but we managed to get parked and we followed the signs down to the beach.
When we got there, the view was simply gorgeous. Blue sky, white sand, waves in a beautiful sea. We scanned left and right deciding which way to head and find a nice area to set up and lie down. Lee, I knew would want to go right. This is because there were hardly any people to the right and the beach kind of stopped not too far away to the right, whereas to the left, we could see miles of white sandy coastline and very busy with families and couples and loads of lovely coloured umbrellas flapping in the wind. Lee always prefers the quieter areas, so we turned right. We found a space to sit, as far away from other people as possible but there really weren't many people in this area anyway.
It must have been less than 10 minutes before Lee and I headed into the water. There were a lot of waves and we jumped in them and had fun. After not too long, I had a feeling that the waves were getting stronger. In hindsight, perhaps we were going further out without realising, but whatever instinct kicked in, it told me to get out of there pretty quick. I shouted at Lee, who was further out, that the waves felt too strong and we really should get out now. My memory isn't entirely full here, but I think I may have mentioned having heard of rip tides, and it not feeling right and will he come out., or perhaps that was a memory of a dream some time afterwards. I got out of the water and turned around to ensure he was making his way out too. I instinctively felt that he was, not fully struggling, but equally not finding it easy to make his way out. I waited and watched and a tang of concern overshadowed me as I could now see he was struggling. I shouted out 'You OK ?' but I soon realised he wasn't. I could see him battling against the waves and he got dragged out to the right-hand side where an outcrop of rocks was located, reaching out into the sea. I walked across the sand at the water's edge, following towards where he was being dragged. As he reached the rocks he grabbed onto them, but their formation was quite steep and vertical where he had been dragged to I knew he couldn't pull himself up and climb up the rocks. I shouted again was he, OK but I could see he wasn't.
Instinct rather than preplanned careful consideration led me to get into the water thinking I can help him get out. For those that know Lee and myself, they'll be wondering what on earth was I thinking. I'm a very overweight, 51 (at that time) year old woman with not the best health record and not exactly fit. Lee, on the other hand, is 4 years younger than me and super fit. Despite this, I am (with a smirk on my face) still a better swimmer than him, not that Lee can't swim, he can, very competently. As a child, my brother and sister and myself were joined into a swimming club, Newburn swimming club at West Denton, where we learned to be very good strong swimmers, in every stroke including the physically challenging butterfly. We swam like fish and general swimming (not intense training) was completely effortless. I'm nowhere near that level now but swimming at that level brought great confidence in water and breathing and keeping afloat in a totally relaxed way even being able to lie on the (still) water not moving arms or legs and remain afloat very easily. Even now in my 50's, I can swim 200 lengths of a 20-metre pool with relative ease and not even run out of breath. This isn't because I'm super fit, its because I know my technique of swimming and breathing without using all of my energy and having a high level of feeling confident within the water.
I entered the water until I could no longer feel the sea bed, moving towards him, as I lost my footing on the sea bed, I could feel the strength of waves was even more powerful than I had expected, so powerful that I found I had no strength to fight where the sea wanted to take me. It swept me to the same place as Lee. I was relieved to be close to him but knew we were in trouble and the look on his face re-affirmed that. I reached out and grabbed hold of the rocks and placed my feet on the rocks beneath the water. Lee shouted over towards the beach 'Help, Help' repeatedly. We could see Mary stood up on the beach watching us, but with the wind, I doubt she'd hear us. There really were not many others on the beach - we had certainly chosen the wrong spot. The few that were there, lay completely flat, sleeping in the glorious sun. I hadn't realised until this time just how dangerous those rocks were. Firstly, they were very very slippery, obvious in hindsight, but I hadn't thought of this until I was desperately trying to keep my hands and feet gripped onto them. Secondly, they were razor sharp. So whilst we used strength to keep gripped on, they cut our hands and feet every time we re-gripped. Finally, the other danger was the lashing waves ripping up against us and the rocks moving our bodies to and fro and side to side. It was hard work to stay put. The waves got stronger and I knew it was only a matter of time before I couldn't hold on any longer. I still don't know to this day, if the last wave pulled me off the rocks entirely, or if my energy just depleted so that I couldn't hold on, but either way, a wave smashed in and as the current pulled back with huge power, it took me with it. I recall me looking at Lee direct, as the wave pulled me backwards and him looking at me with all I can describe as absolute pure fear and terror. The wave was so powerful and strong that the speed and strength at which it pulled me back was staggering. Within seconds I was pulled way out to sea. I managed to keep facing forward, knowing I was facing the beach. I was pulled so far out and the waves were now too strong and high, that I couldn't actually see the beach any more. I couldn't see anyone. I tried to remain as calm as possible. Eventually, the waves seemed to pull me back to a point where I wasn't moving anywhere, or at least not the speed it had just taken me, but the water seemed to hold me in the position and I couldn't move out of it. I kept afloat and kept looking back watching for the next wave. The waves were so high, I couldn't swim over them or keep afloat, so I just braced myself, just before each wave hit and held my breath and went with the wave relaxing as much as possible, coming out on top of the water once the wave had passed. Whilst I did this, for what seemed like ages, I was very very aware my energy was draining. I never took in big mouthfuls of water (like the kind you do accidentally and it feels like water fills your lungs) but must have been taking in some water. I found I wasn't able to swim up and reach out of the water after each wave as easily or strongly as I had been doing so and I started to struggle to take in enough air before the next wave came. The waves were relentless. My arms started to feel weak. I kept this going for, well I don't know how long but it really did feel like ages. As each wave felt stronger and I struggled more, this is when panic set in and my strength deteriorated rapidly.
It was some point, within a minute or so, after knowing my energy was draining rapidly that a wave came and I struggled to get my head up out of the water but I did, just, and I truly felt that the next wave and attempt to gasp air, may well be my last. I was still facing the beach direction, though I still couldn't see the beach. All I could see was water, all around me and nothing else. Even my eyes weakened at this point and just as I knew I couldn't keep fighting much more, I saw a person swimming towards me in the water out to my left-hand side. This absolutely and undoubtedly gave me a kick of inner strength to keep my head above water level and as I felt an overwhelming sense of connection with whoever this was, I saw to the right-hand side of me another person swimming out to me. I managed to stay afloat and each man grabbed an arm. They spoke to me but I can't recall anything they said. Whatever it was, I know I didn't answer. I had absolutely no strength whatsoever.
They swam out to the right-hand side of where I had seemed to be stuck and after a short time then swam straight towards the beach. I didn't know why or even wonder why at that time. But I've read about riptides and I now understand that this is the way to get out of a riptide, to swim out of it at the side rather than directly in front of where it's moving. Had I have known this before that fateful day, I may have been able to swim ashore myself.
They dragged me and swam and I recall that as they started to head towards the beach direction they asked me to kick my legs to help swim with them. I couldn't. I really couldn't. My body was drained of everything.
As we got to the point where the seabed was within reach of our feet and they stood up they asked me to stand up to walk the remaining distance to the beach, but again I couldn't. There was no energy, absolutely none. I couldn't even talk. They had to drag me out of the sea (I'm not exactly of feather lightweight) and therefore not easy to simply lift up in their arms to gently place on the sand. I was dragged across the sand and I can't begin to say how grateful I was, for any which way they wanted to drag or handle me.
Once on the beach, they put me in the recovery position. I didn't have the energy to open my eyes but I could hear Lee's voice. So yes, Lee had survived and somehow got back to the beach. I later learned that he had managed to keep hold of those rocks and slowly move his way towards the beach bit by bit until the rocks started to flatten in shape where he could actually climb onto them. Two men, from the beach, had gone out to help him. He shouted at them that his wife was out at sea, pointing in the direction that I had been taken, though none of them could see me. The men headed out to sea as Lee scrambled his way over the rocks and onto the beach.
Back on the beach where I was now in the recovery position, I heard Lee's voice he kept repeating my name over and over telling me I'd be OK. They held me in the recovery position. Inside me, I could feel something big, something big wanting to come up, maybe vomit? water ?. I didn't know what it was but the feeling was overwhelming and very strong. It was painful. I knew I needed to be sat upright. I couldn't speak as I had no energy to even do that. All I could manage to say was 'Up', over and over again between trying to breathe. I could hear Lee tried telling the two men that I wanted to sit up, but they said I needed to remain in the recovery position. They were Italian, but one spoke good English. I repeated again 'Up, Up, Up'. Lee insisted that he needed to get me up. They eventually all helped me sit up, and I let out the biggest loudest burp you could imagine. They then slowly put me back into recovery and I remember feeling relieved that the big ache in my stomach had gone. As I had burped I managed to open my eyes slightly and saw Lee. He looked OK, I mean he was upright and talked and alert but he was covered in blood.
I wasn't there for long at all before I was transported to a helicopter. I remember a lot of people being with me in the helicopter and that there was no room for Lee or Mary. The back of the helicopter was very small and compact. I think there were 3 or 4 people in there with me, but no room for anyone to move anywhere. I had a tube pushed down my throat into my stomach and something pumped into my stomach. I think they were trying to make me vomit or bring up water, and I didn't and I think they couldn't understand why. I do wonder if they thought I would have swallowed lots and lots of water, but I hadn't. Or perhaps I was wrong. I still don't know what that was. I can't remember landing or going into the hospital. I now know I was taken to Catania Hospital.
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| The Helicopter that I was transported in |
I was then moved to a bigger open ward and placed in a cubicle with the curtains left open. My desperation to make contact with someone was growing stronger and stronger. I felt so alone. I hadn't cried at all, but I needed to speak to someone. It must have been visiting time in the ward as people, probably relatives, were entering and visiting people in the ward. As people passed I shouted out to them 'Excuse me, can you help'. Every one of them looked at me like I was nuts. After all, there I was with nothing but a bather on, talking in a foreign language holding my hand out to people.
I needed a better plan. In the middle of the ward was a big circular desk rather than a reception area with staff inside the circular area. Nurses and doctors came and went checking records and asking staff to check computers. I called out to a nurse who came to my bedside. I somehow communicated that I needed a phone. Bingo she understood and brought her phone over. As I couldn't remember anyone's phone number, I needed another way to contact, and I thought of Facebook. I now needed to explain that I needed the Facebook app. I took the phone from her and saw the Facebook app - Thank God. I pointed to it saying I needed to use that. Again she understood, Hallelujah. She opened it up and passed the phone to me. She left me with the phone as she went back to her business. Thank God, as it was going to take me some time to try and make contact.
My knowledge of the specific intricacies of Facebook was not, and still is not, great. Next hurdle, the whole thing is in Italian. FFS ! OK, think this through bit by bit. So I believed that I couldn't send anyone a message unless you were 'friends' with them. So I managed to find, eventually (even that took time) a number of my family members and sent a friend request. I was still logged into the Nurses account. I had considered logging out and relogging in as myself but I knew I couldn't remember my password and the whole app was in Italian, so I didn't even know what the buttons meant! I knew that somewhere in the phone I could change the settings to the English Language from Italian but needed to understand the buttons before I could do that! So I thought the next best option was to friend request my family members on her account. I had hoped they might make the connection with an Italian name, and me being in Italy and may press accept simply to clarify who it was and then I could connect with them.
None of them responded. I later found out that most, like my sister, told me, saw this friend request from a foreign person, assumed it was a nutter and pressed the 'Delete' button. At the time I could have cried, but in hindsight, I now find this hilarious and still have a good laugh at that whole scenario. I am in a desperate situation and very much traumatised. Despite this, I'm looking for ways to connect with family and come up with solutions only to have them dashed by them pressing 'Delete' I have laughed so many times over the past 2 years about this.
I'm usually a fighter and I don't give up. I have a strong life mantra, and that is 'There's always a solution' to achieve what you need and want.' and I wasn't about to give up. As I sat pondering my next move and my breathing had started to improve slightly, I thought of landline numbers. Which ones did I know? Just mine and Mary's. Mary was here in Sicily !!! I didn't even know my Mam's landline number, I'm sure it had recently changed too. Everyone else I contacted by mobile and didn't know their numbers from the top of my head. Grrrrr
As I started to feel disheartened, I heard a familiar voice. 'I'm looking for Michelle Sheridan' and I immediately looked up and saw Lee and Mary. I shouted over to them at the reception area and they turned and came straight to the bed. From nowhere came floods of tears. I couldn't believe it. It just felt like a weight lifted. I then learned how Lee and Mary had spent the last hour in the hospital trying to find me, being passed from one place to another. Lee told me how my arm and lips were blue when I was dragged out of the water. Although he had been covered in blood from cuts all over his hand's arms, legs and feet, nobody had taken any notice of him.
I don't actually have much memory after that at all. What I did later learn was that as I had left in the helicopter, Lee and Mary headed straight back to the car. Lee needed to contact the Insurance Company to get himself put on the insurance. He needed his driving licence number. He didn't have his licence on him. He managed to ring a colleague at work who was able to retrieve his licence from his locker and send him a pic of it. Great. The insurance company did not make things easy from what I understand and in the end, Lee lost his temper with them. Before he could get put on the insurance, he drove without insurance. Eventually, the insurance was sorted. He said that the drive to and from the hospital each day after that was a challenge. It was the driving in Catania City Centre that was a nightmare.
What I do remember is then being settled into a room with two other ladies. It was a much smaller ward than before.
During the course of the next 4 days, I was constantly monitored, my breathing improved to normal. Discussion took place with Doctors who visited me at my bedside. Lee had been in touch with Ricci who spoke to Doctors and acted as an interpreter for us especially concerning medical matters. Ricci was annoyed that no lifeguards had been on the beach or that there had been no warning flags out. Ricci assured us that this was quite unusual in his own experience. On other occasions, we used our phones with Google translate to communicate lots of information to and from Doctors. It was actually very effective.
On the first night, I was in hospital Lee and Mary decided to stay in a local hotel. It would mean they didn't have a long way to go back home and they could go out for a meal and drink to try and chill out. However, they weren't allowed to book into any hotel without their passports, and they didn't have them with them. So they went back home, but I understood they both had more than a skinful of drink on that night when they got home.
A female priest visited our room twice when I was there to give communion to the two ladies I shared the room with. She seemed very pleased to hear I was Roman Catholic and whilst I do not practice, I decided to take Communion anyway. I said the prayers in English whilst they said them in Italian. I think they were all strangely impressed, their nodding smiles of approval were obvious.
Then day 4 (or maybe 5) I was discharged. Ricci, I am sure had been concerned that our holiday had been ruined by this but actually it hadn't. Certainly, it had been traumatic and Lee, still to this day, has flashbacks. Sometimes I can feel a sudden panic if watching rough sea scenes in films etc but on the whole, I'm fine. In fact, when I started to read this out to Lee for his thoughts, he had to stop me at the point when we had been on the rocks. He couldn't listen any more. He has real traumatic memories of it all. The rest of the holiday went really well and I was determined to go back into the sea which I did on a day when the sea was very calm. In fact, I think I recall it was Father's Dad. We both went in but didn't go deeper than our waist but went in fully including heads under. I wanted to be sure I had no fear of the sea, as I love being in the water and I was fine.
Sicily is a beautiful country in every way. I would definitely go back and hope one day I will. For anyone who has read this far, then take from it what you wish but know that heroes come in many shapes and forms and sometimes from nowhere when you most need them. Rarely do they get the thanks and recognition they deserve. When you think the worst is over, sometimes it isn't. One thing that helps us through is people who choose to support and help, sometimes in obvious ways and sometimes in not so obvious ways.
Know that the power of the sea is immense and unpredictable. Sit beside large crowds of people on beaches not in isolation away from the crowds. Note if there are lifeguards and look out for warning flags. Follow your instinct and remember the funny times. I'll never forget how my family clicked on Delete without a second thought when I needed them so badly. LOL
Written by Michelle Sheridan, one of the kindest, strongest and most thoughtful ladies I have the pleasure of knowing.
