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Dear Reader, For those of you who know me, you will be familiar with my nose. For those who don't know me its on the 'if air is free, then I'll have lots' sort of proportion. That said, its very handy for many things and I wouldn't be without it. Well there I was last night at the Oak bar around 6pm and the hooter started to get a little chilly. I quickly dispatched staff to all points of the compass to check for open doors and windows, as quite often, even on the coldest days, the guy who controls the light switch for the light at the end of the tunnel opens them in order that we might use our power to warm the wildlife in Southampton. The reports started to come back – no draft (remember I was standing at the bar) here and after the fourth member of staff reported back with an equally lame joke about wind, I turned to a customer for solace only to find that he thought he should join in – something about ‘vicars and tea’. The nose was still not satisfied, so I went to feel a radiator and whilst not hot it certainly wasn’t cold – maybe the nose has caught something and a bout of man flu is making its way towards me. To take my mind off the nose and to get away from the jokes about wind, which were now in full flow at the bar, I went around the building to check the departments. The restaurant was ready for service, candles lit and feeling quite cosy, the nose of course wasn’t convinced, but the simple explanation from the staff that they had just had the door propped open to take the rubbish out seemed to satisfy. Fruit was preparing for a ‘speed dating’ evening as was lovely and warm, cushions plumped up, lighting suitably dimmed (it has the same effect as rose tinted glasses) And so I found myself back at reception, listening to a customer saying that her room was a little chilly and the hot water wasn’t. The nose perceptibly lifted its tip in an expression of ‘I told you so’. I’ll go and check the boilers…………………… On entering the boiler house, which is in the cellars, indeed it is our oldest vault, dating back to 1250 and is inhabited by two ghosts (who are starting to get on my nerves), I immediately noticed that there were no lights on any of the controls. Whilst this discovery was somewhat puzzling, it paled into insignificance when compared with the torrential downpour which was coming through the roof of the vault. The reason for the lack of lights on any of the controls became apparent as the majority of this, as yet, inexplicable water was running along the pipes and cables into the main heating and hot water control panel. This clear logic was confirmed when I opened the door to the panel and a veritable waterfall disgorged itself onto my best Oliver Sweeny shoes. The nose, by now, had gone to the back of the ‘problems in my life’ queue. In the best young man in Holland traditions I realised that my fist course of action was to stop the water and off I ran, squelching a little, to the rooms immediately above – the toilets in fruit bar. The turn the water on and off thingy on the pipe that leads to the cistern in the cubicle of the gents was to say the least a bit wet, as was the floor. Problem solved – turn it off ! The rain forest shower in the cellar started to ease, which left me with the more life threatening problem of electrics – you see I had worked out (all by myself) that water pouring over the electrics had caused a problem and any attempt to fix it could hurt. The fix it without killing yourself part of my brain jumped to attention and suggested that I might consider getting someone who knows what they are doing to come and fix it instead. Unbelievably it was only 7pm, a mere hour since my nose had tried to alert me to the issue at hand. I phoned Alan Crane, a dear friend and an expert in all things dangerous and life threatening. Luckily he hadn’t had his dinner and what’s more he wasn’t all that hungry anyway. I welcomed Alan with gusto and here is where it gets a bit technical. The aforementioned water had run over the cables in the control panel. The control panel had blown the blue and red phases in the main switch (a grey box with a silver handle). So about an hour later, having dried out the control panel with a hot air blower and replaced the phases, all the lights came on, the boilers fired up and the nose started to warm up. I have reflected on the events of last evening and have realised that the sadistic half wit that currently controls the light at the end of the tunnel has heard of my goal of wrestling control from him and has decided to flick it on and off in an attempt to frustrate me. Well my man, your days are numbered, I turn up the tip of my (now warm) nose to you in a well practiced sneer, I wave my fist at you and if only I could find you I would thrash you to within an inch of your life. Bob Tel: 023 8033 9955 Fax: 023 8033 3650 email: enquiries@thedolphin.co.uk |
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