Month: February 2021

In the last post I discussed an accident we had on a job site a couple of weeks ago. Similar to back in 2018 when Florim had his accident, I believe that when things go wrong, in view of the fact that word is going to get around anyway, it is important to provide people with full, complete and correct information – how and whether they read it and what they make of it is then up to them.

After posting on social media there was a wide range of reactions and comments. Many were supportive and positive, others made me pause and think. This is to be expected and is part and parcel when laying oneself open by communicating about situations gone wrong. Yet indulge me, allowing me a couple of observations here…

I was somewhat taken aback by how many people seemed to think this could never happen to them. In our team we cultivate an active safety culture, including safety briefings and training, risk assessments and ensuring an over-all high level of competence. Complacency and cutting corners were not part of this incident. As I already described, it was really due to a compilation of small factors, culminating in a system failure. This could happen to anyone. The other day Chris reminded me that when we used to work together, we would use the image of a traffic light to assess where our form was during the course of a day. While one moment you might be solidly green, the next instance there might be an external factor having a negative impact, resulting in your form reverting to orange or red.

Some external factors are foreseeable: feeling a bit spinny and light-headed late morning after having skipped breakfast? That one is easy to mitigate and should not really come as a surprise: hydrate and keep an eye on an appropriate diet for the work you are performing. Cold or heat are a bit different and more perfidious, they can catch you out, as it is less easy to monitor yourself and recognise the point where your judgement becomes impaired. Monitoring each other, partner checks, seems to me to be one way to nip potential problems in the bud: knowing your work mates, knowing where their strengths and weaknesses lie, anticipating external factors which could be having a negative effect on their form, not working in isolation, in a bubble, checking in with the other members on the team regularly. Communication is part of this, the other part is observational skills, as well as looking ahead, anticipating scenarios. Varying team constellations can make this very challenging. I go into situations like that knowing that in all likelihood I am going to miss points, but trying my very best to make sure that I have the big ones covered off and am not missing the obvious. I do this by taking my time and by being thorough.

A further observation is that a number of peoples’ comments stated how no one touches their lines, that they are their sole responsibility. This had me puzzled. A core concept of how we work revolves around a lowerable access system, allowing for a rapid, efficient ascent, as well as access to the canopy in case of an emergency. So in this instance, these lines are not “private”, on the contrary, they are the responsibility of the whole team, the ground crew as well as climbers. But actually, I suspect the truth of the matter is that teams using SRT for work positioning often will not bother installing an extra access. In case of a canopy-tied anchor point, on top of that, there is no means to lower an injured climber, so I am intrigued as to what the rescue plan is in such a scenario.

In fact I would even go a step further: The mentality that I am the sole person in charge and responsible creates a narrow pyramid of responsibility which could lead to pilot error, a concept from the aviation industry, where checks and balances are put into place to mitigate the risk of a bad call by one person, i.e. the pilot, causing a system failure. This is achieved by spreading responsibility amongst a number of team members. In many ways, this is what I was describing above with the concept of an on-going partner check as an integral part of the work process.

Another couple of weeks down the line, I do not really have any ground-breaking new thoughts to share. One comment that did really resonate with me was by Richard Delaney, a dear friend in Australia who runs Rope Lab, an invaluable resource to all things related to rope and working on it. Richard wrote:

Thank you for sharing this. The more if this rope stuff I do and the more experienced friends share their stories, the more we realise how human we all are. Especially me. I don’t read these reports and think “how could THEY have let that happen, I do this so it would never happen to me”. I read them and realise just how human we all are and how humble and diligent we need to be. I think “wow… that could have been me”.

Diligence and humility are a valuable and rare commodity it pays to cultivate, as well as awareness and meticulous attention to detail. Hopefully this helps to keep us and our team mates safe, in recognition of the fact that sometimes a freak incident, unforeseen event or human error can and will slip through the net, as 100% safety is not possible. But let us spare no effort to mitigate the residual risks down to as low a possible. If this incident drives one lasting message home for me, it is how truly human and fragile we are.

Last week Ninja Treeworks had an accident on a work site.

We were hired by a friend to give him a hand pruning a couple of pollarded London plane trees. The trees are about 20m high, the lower part is covered in ivy. There were three climbers on site, A, B and C, as well as D, who took care of the ground work. A and B are both very experienced arborists, C has some experience in tree work, as well as being a very experienced rope access technician. 

The day started out wet and blustery, with quite heavy snowfall setting in soon after. We got the first tree done by mid-morning, by which time the weather had become decidedly unpleasant, so we decided to take a break in attempt to warm up a bit. While deinstalling our lines from the first tree, C got his cambium saver stuck, so after the break he headed back up again to retrieve it. Meanwhile A and B got a throwline into the second tree, ready for the access line to go in. Prior to ascending, C had had to lower the access line to get his ascent gear he had left there after the first ascent, then he pulled it up again and re-anchored it to the base of the tree, using a Petzl RIG, secured with two half hitches above it – to then commence his ascent.

In the meantime, D started up the chipper on the adjacent pavement to process the brush from the first tree. 

B then proceded to de-rig the access line, not realising C was still on rope in ascent, untied the two half hitches and pulled the lever, dropping C by approximately two meters before realising his mistake, realising there was way too much weight on the line – to then instantly release the lever. By the time his fall was arrested, C had impacted on a large limb hard with his butttock, had tried to grab on to it and in doing so hurt his shoulder.

Luckily C sustained no major injuries a couple of days rest could not sort. Yet the situation was very serious none the less, for conceivably,  if he had been higher up, maybe ascending limb to limb without any weight on the line, B would not have realised his mistake and would have deinstalled the RIG completely. In this scenario, when C reached the top of the ascent and had applied his weight to the line, this would have resulted in a 15m free fall to the ground. 

Obviously such a system failure leads to a great deal of upset, discussion and soul searching. What went wrong, where, why and how did we fail as a team, what factors were in play, how can we ensure this does not happen again.

First off, the use of access lines is a standard operating procedure in our company and is therefore used on a daily basis in a standardised format. All climbers are familiar with its installation, use and emergency procedures.

Without a doubt, at the core of this incident lies operator error on B’s part. Due to the ivy he had no clear line of sight to the access, due to the chipper running close by, he did not hear C ascending. These factors were further compiled by the fact that B was chilled, as well as low on blood sugar. The sum of the factors led to him developing a tunnel vision during the split second when he released the RIG. 

We were all deeply shocked and upset by a scenario none of us had ever envisaged, as visual control prior to any manipulation to the access line is what you might consider to be a no-brainer. 

But in this instance, a number of superficially small factors resulted in a system failure.

One of the things one discusses after such an event is whether a technical fix might have prevented it: had a I’D been used instead of the RIG, would it have mitigated the consequences of B’s tunnel vision? We did not reach a consensus in this matter. Yes, in this scenario, the anti-panic function on the I’D would have prevented C from being dropped as far as he was on the RIG. Having said that, in the alternate scenario, had he been ascending limb to limb, it would not have made a difference. On top of that, my personal opinion is that in certain rescue scenarios, the anti-panic function of the I’D could conceivably prove to be a hindrance over the RIG. So no, no obvious technical fixes.

What this accident does demonstrate clearly is that no one is safe from mistakes and accidents. Obviously, we like to think that competence, experience, as well as procedures and checks offer a degree of protection – while this is certainly true in many instances, external factors, such as cold, noise or heat can have a massive impact on our perception, sometimes without us even realising the degree by which our judgement is impaired.

I am certainly severely shaken by the whole incident, questioning my judgement and why I did not catch it in time, why I failed B and C. But I suppose the answer to that is that you simply cannot foresee every eventuality… and sometimes things simply go wrong. 

As a team our conclusions are, as I mentioned above, that small things can have a large impact, so be attentive to apparently small things: let your team mates know if you do not feel able to perform a task, recognise external factors that are having a negative impact on your form – and act accordingly, communicate with your team mates, put on an extra layer, eat something, hydrate, call it a day – whatever it takes.

This was certainly a humbling, revealing experience. I am deeply grateful the consequences were not more serious, am grateful to B, C and D for taking the time to debrief it thoroughly, as well as my people around me for letting me bend their ears, working through this one.

In that sense, please climb safe – and heed the small things.