Last time, Thomas covered the replacement of the brakes and the chance to use Libertine at the 2012 Olympic Games. He continues:
Before my departure from my family at home, I had a little more work to do on the bus to make it Olympics ready. My previous conversion of two sets of Volvo rear and front seats were changed. Volvo seats remained in the front, but the rear had to accommodate a bed again (I had regretted removing it a few years before) and a kitchen box made in haste. This would be a long box behind the bulkheads of the passenger and drivers seats. Handles, so that it could be removed if necessary, sliding doors, food compartment and cooker on top. This was successful for the time of the Games, but I came to miss the ability to walk from the back into the front without the need to get out of the van. Still, it would do for now.
Pre-Games attendance started with me camping in my Bus in the Portland Olympic village itself, and the restricted car parks there. Accommodation was offered far from site, but I had all I needed in my bus. The site had shower and clothes washing facilities to help my stay be more comfortable. That and a little SPAR shop selling food and wine. My shifts alternated between day and night with my Army colleagues. Working hours were long and I was on-call 24/7. My bus became my sanctuary, a place to get away from the hustle and bustle of the long days and nights. Kick off my boots, put the kettle on and some music. Peace and quiet….until my radio squawks my call sign “attendance urgently required…”
Before the Games began, I had an idea to camp in my bus at the heart of the Olympics on Portland. Why not? I’ll never get the chance to do this again. This I did, near the collections of flag poles with flags of all Nations. The local Naval Commander who was in charge was not happy, but reassured that it was for one night only and then I would be gone before the public ever came near.
As I settled down for the night in my bus by the Flag poles. I became aware of Police vans parking really close to me. Very close. Peeking through the curtains they were the Police dog vans. Yes, complete with dogs within them. The vans parked front, back and sides to me. What’s more, the dogs snarled every time I looked at them. Well, they aren’t pets are they. Although such animals don’t normally snarl except when at ‘work’, no one told them they were off duty. They also howled. I’m sure they don’t normally, but they were not happy with me at all. The next morning, I was asked by the Commander and a Senior Police Officer (both grinning from ear to ear) if I had a restful night. I cannot print my reply. Even so, I thought it was very funny and I took it all in good humour.
The weeks went by, and I moved around the old Naval base at Portland. Alternating my location every few days to change the view from my van, and to meet other working groups there. The van became a familiar sight to other ‘work’ groups there. From Police divers, marines, bomb disposal and G4 Security. We got to know each other well. I gave some Marine divers coffee and bacon sandwiches after an early long dive in cold waters. They were very grateful, but expressed surprise that an Officer no less, had greeted them with such a welcome sight as they came ashore. It’s simply a case of looking after the Troops. I don’t care who they belong to. In turn, they invited me to their accommodation for a social gathering with food. Amazing really, as Marines by nature tend to keep to themselves and I was an outsider. The van helped. It was a talking point. They seemed impressed that an Officer preferred to rough it in a van and not hide away in a fancy hotel. For some reason they all thought Officers did and were surprised when I revealed that this was far from the truth. Still, all was good humoured. My van was also used for early morning breakfast with the Police divers in their fully equipped van with changing area and kitchen. Likewise, I returned the favour. Cooking a full breakfast on my vans little two ring burner and grill.
The time had come for me to live aboard a ship for a while. This was moored at the old Naval dock side. The Royal Fleet Auxiliary (RFA) Mounts Bay. Parking my bus as near as allowed (I had my Golden ticket but I was still subject to Harbour control and common sense) and boarded the Ship with a few of my colleagues to find our cabins. The Officers Galley (Kitchen and dining area to you land lubbers) had copies of VW magazines about. Turned out that the crew were VW enthusiasts. Ship life can be noisy. I was on night duties ashore, but your sleep is disturbed by ships constant noise, fire drills and a contingent of Marines using the gym which was next to my Cabin.
I was very glad when the time came for me to leave the RFA Mounts Bay for the quiet sanctuary of my bus. Not to say that I did not enjoy the time there. The Ships Company were friendly and helpful and it was a wonderful experience which I shall never forget.
A Warship was coming into berth, and my colleagues and I were asked if we would like to stay on board. Another great opportunity, but I thought that particular ship was ‘too flighty’ in my opinion and may take off for other duties at a moment’s notice. My colleagues took the offer. I stayed in my van. One day they returned to the dockside to get some sleep after a long shift. It had sailed on other duties without them. “want a coffee in my van while you all sort some other accommodation?” As I went on duty I left my colleagues my spare keys. The van was now somewhere to rest and sort themselves out.
There was one incident I can recall. I was on Duty in my van but up into Weymouth itself. To get from Portland to Weymouth Town you cross a narrow causeway. The road goes down the middle of it. There were heavy winds blowing. As I was halfway returning to Portland there was a loud BANG!! The pop-top roof had half deployed ! The wind was so strong that the two internal clips had snapped, raising the roof but on one side only. This acted as a sail, catching the wind and making control of the van almost impossible. Making an emergency landing I parked and struggled to get it down. Supports slightly bent but in one piece. Roped down, I made my way to the Control room where I was to be on duty. During The Games, Portland to Weymouth was monitored by hundreds of CCTV cameras. I asked the monitoring crew if they had seen my near disaster on screen. Better still, had they recorded it. But no, they had been distracted by something else. I was disappointed that my brave actions and control of my van had only been seen by me and a few terrified road users.
After a few months my time at The Olympic and Paralympic Games came to an end. A Mobilisation can either be a miserable experience or an interesting one. I decided to make it the latter. Regrettably, I am unable to tell other stories of my time there in my bus. The Official Secrets Act is for Life, not duration of Service!
By now, Libertine’s engine seemed to be a little sluggish. Was the exhaust slightly smoking? Was it making noises I have not heard before? On return home, it was time for a holiday with my family (It may have been the Olympics but it was not a holiday for either myself or my family I can assure you). A treat awaited the van. Parts were being gathered for an engine strip down and rebuild. Libertine deserved it after a few months of hard work.
(Editor: Thanks to Thomas for some greats stories of van life. Time to share reminiscences and restorations from other members, next issue is the turn of Matt Sharrock and Wilma)