Look after your battery!

After a couple of summer holidays spent in the UK, we decided that we would venture to France.  Our plan was to cross over to Calais and work our way down the west side of France to the Bordeaux area.  Not having caravanned abroad before, we threw ourselves on the mercy of the club and made the ferry booking through the overseas service.  This turned out to be an excellent choice as we were also given a bundle of Camping Cheques to use while in France.

We hitched up the caravan and set off with an air of great excitement - yes, even those of us who qualify for Saga can get excited about the prospect of new experiences.  The journey to the ferry and the voyage were both uneventful, but it was when we returned to the car that the adventure really began.

I pressed the magic zapper to open the doors and nothing happened.  I pressed and pressed, but still nothing happened.  Thinking that the zapper battery was flat I opened the doors with the key and got in.  I then noticed that my other half was still outside and realized that when I had turned the key I had not heard the buzz and click of the little motors that were supposed to open all the other doors.  The central locking had gone.  I opened her door and she got in. 

When I tried to start the car, nothing happened.  Then I noticed that the ignition light hadn't illuminated and that the clock wasn't displayed.  We had a dead car and would soon be called upon to drive it off the ferry.  I went off in search of assistance, armed only with nearly forty-year-old O-level French.  I found a pretty French girl in a smart Brittany Ferries uniform standing on duty near one of the doors into the car deck.  Summoning up words and phrases from years earlier I began to explain my problem.

“Nous voudrons… help... s’il vous plaît,” I began.  “Le… battery… est mort.  L’auto… will not start.”

Fortunately she was able to speak English and was able to understand my poor attempts at French.  She told us that she would find someone and asked me to return to the car.

Our deck then began slowly emptying and our car and little caravan, fortunately the last in their particular row, became increasingly visible.  Although we were on one side of the deck, up against the wall, I felt as prominent as if we had been centre stage.  After several minutes’ wait a chap in the distance walked straight towards us pulling a little trolley behind him.  On the trolley was a large car battery and draped around the handle of the trolley were some industrial grade jump leads.

With an air of great confidence he attached the two leads to his battery and attached the other ends to ours.  He then waved towards the car door and spoke some rapid French which I was unable to understand but guessed must have been an instruction to start the car.  However, nothing happened. 

More men were called and all offered further advice to each other.  This was not very productive as they all spoke at once and no one seemed to be listening to the others.  Unable to follow any of the rapid French spilling around me I just stood and smiled apologetically or, as the casual observer might have said, inanely.  One word however stood out - Sebastien. 

Suddenly at the far end of the deck a small, white, Citroën van that had definitely seen better days appeared.  It drove the length of the deck and stopped nose to nose with our car.  The driver - Sebastien, according to his name badge - leapt out of the van, threw open its bonnet and attached new leads to the two batteries.  I turned the key and the engine sprang into life.

As we drove off the ferry we were painfully aware of the rows of waiting cars whose occupants had been sitting in the sun for quite long enough and had probably been wondering why they had not been allowed on the ferry although the last vehicle, apparently, had left some time ago.  Carefully avoiding their collective and, it seemed to us, accusing, gaze we drove out of the ferry terminal into France.

Later we worked out that while we had been enjoying our trip across the Channel the relay that was meant to cut the electricity to the refrigerator in the caravan hadn't, and the refrigerator had been slowly draining the car battery of all power.  We had lovely cold food, but a dead car!

We now always remove both caravan plugs from the car whenever we leave it for more than a few minutes.