They’re Not Just For RECEIVING Calls, You Know

This story happened about a dozen years ago, not long before my dad passed away. That summer, my wife and I decided to go camping at a place right on the Welsh coast with some friends. The site is a stone’s throw from the beach right behind the sand dunes. My wife had been before in the summer and the weather had been lovely, so we were hoping for the same again. My dad said that he could come over from my hometown with his dog (my wife and I live in another city) and join us for the second day and night and maybe get a bit of sea fishing in, too, so I brought my spare tent for him and the dog to stay in.

The first night’s camping was okay, but on the second day, the weather started to get progressively worse. A storm was coming in off the Irish Sea, and we were only about fifty metres or so from the beach. Everyone decided to cut the trip short and go home, and my dad offered to take some of our gear with him in his car to help out. I loaded his car up, and he set off while I started to pack up the main tent. It was then that I realised that I couldn’t find my car keys and that they must have fallen out of my pocket into his car. It didn’t help that access to the campsite was across a causeway that was closed during certain times of the day due to the tide, so we only had a limited window to leave the place.

My dad had only been gone for about half an hour, so he could easily turn around and get back to us, but when I rang his phone, it went straight to voicemail. After ringing him a couple more times, I realised that he must have left his phone switched off! It was more than three hours to drive from the campsite back to his house, so if he didn’t check his phone before he got home, then there was no way he could turn around and come back that night.

My wife continued to try and call him while I packed up in what were now very wet and windy conditions, and we also called my mum to let her know what had happened. If my dad happened to call home during the journey, and it was not too late, at least she could tell him to turn around. 

We told our friends to get home themselves and that we would tough it out if need be. We packed up as much as we could, pegged the tent down as much as we could, and prepared to sleep in it.

After about three hours, we got the call from my dad asking what the problem was. He found the key right away in the passenger footwell and said he would come back first thing in the morning.

That night, the storm got worse, and it was so bad that the tent got damaged. My wife and I moved into the car instead for safety, and looking around the site, we could tell that we were not the only ones sheltering in cars or vans. As you can imagine, we didn’t get much sleep, and the next morning, we salvaged our tent, packed it into the car, and waited for my dad to arrive. He must have set off at first light, because he was there quite early, with a sheepish look on his face. 

Me: “Why on Earth didn’t you have your phone switched on?”

Dad: “Because I didn’t want to waste the battery. And besides, it’s only for emergencies.”

Me: “But Dad, your phone has enough battery to last several days, and you have a charging cable in the car. And this was an emergency!”

I then let him in on the big surprise we had planned on sharing with him that weekend: he was going to have the brand new job title of “Grandad”. After quite some time of trying, we had just found out that we were finally expecting our first child, his first grandchild. This is why we didn’t want to be stuck on a Welsh beach during a major storm, just because he didn’t have his phone switched on!