It hisses. The signal yellow buoyancy chamber of the lifejacket is full to bursting. The pressure gauge shows 100 millibars, but then only 98, 95 ... The pressure drops and Janin Niebank clearly hears the hissing from the automatic release device that she is holding to her ear. "It's letting out air, something's wrong." All around her in the large hall at boat chandler SVB in Bremen are life jackets - packed ready for dispatch, on clothes racks or sorted out for disposal. The new orders are in yellow plastic boxes with incoming data.
It's the end of January and lifejacket maintenance at SVB is picking up speed. "We always recommend sending the waistcoats to us in the autumn," explains team leader Ralf Theilen. Instead, however, the majority of them arrive by Whitsun every year. Niebank and her colleague Jaqueline Weinhold then check them step by step, using precision tools, torque spanners, a good eye and patience. This takes time; customers have to be patient for a few weeks.
About a quarter of an hour ago, Niebank took the lifejacket out of one of the yellow boxes and gave it a number. She meticulously entered the manufacturer, model, serial number and production date in the maintenance log. The latter is written twice on the bladder - conventionally and as a Julian date. "Not all manufacturers do this. The more you look into it, the more it becomes a bottomless pit," she says and laughs.
The various brands differ not only in terms of data, but also in pretty much every single part, from the automatic release mechanism to the folding technology. Janin Niebank and Jaqueline Weinhold therefore had to attend training sessions with each manufacturer.
When she notices the loss of pressure in the lifejacket, Niebank has already completed a large part of the maintenance routine: the first thing she does is carefully open the protective cover. "You never know what's inside." Sometimes emergency transmitters are installed, where one wrong pull is enough to trigger a MOB false alarm in the Bremen industrial estate.
She placed the sealing ring, trigger tablet and valve seal in a small box; they are replaced regularly. She loosened the CO2 cartridge and weighed it. Using delicate tools, she pulled the locking pin out of the machine and replaced the sealing grommet and the tiny compressed gas cylinder seal.
Ralf Theilen explains: "Each manufacturer has its own maintenance manual and various mandatory replacement products." Janin Niebank screwed a dummy cartridge with a tiny test disc into the lifejacket and pulled the manual trigger. With a click, the test plate was perforated and the spike, which is supposed to pierce the cartridge and thus trigger it, was successfully tested.
At least when activated manually. In an emergency, a water-soluble tablet in a small cage should take over this job. It keeps a mechanism in check that is supposed to force the spike through the cartridge. Niebank only had to hold the automatic trigger in a basin of water for a short time before another "click" sounded. She brushed the new sealing rings with silicone oil and then reassembled all the parts. For the leak test, the swim bladder is inflated to 150 millibars, after a few minutes the pressure is reduced to 100. It was supposed to stay like this until the next day, but now it is deflating.
Niebank recapitulates the previous work steps and has a suspicion: "Maybe the valve isn't seated properly." She loosens it and actually finds a tiny remnant of the release tablet that is preventing it from being seated correctly. A minor detail that would not be noticed without the pressure test, but could have fatal consequences in an emergency. After 16 hours, the lifejacket should not have lost more than 40 per cent of its pressure. Otherwise, a spray is used to check whether air bubbles are coming out anywhere. The smallest holes that are not too close to the weld seam can then be sealed. Colleague Weinhold grabs a waistcoat that has passed the leak test. She inserts the cartridge and a new tablet, inspects the weld seams, webbing and reflective strips.
"The folding instructions must be followed exactly, otherwise the waistcoat won't open properly in an emergency," she explains as she folds it up. She demonstrates this with a red waistcoat: "If you fold the buoyancy chamber over the CO2 cartridge and the waistcoat releases, it can tear or burst." Folding becomes even trickier with accessories. A spray cap has to be folded in neatly, a distress signal tested and its thin ribbon attached with a tiny bowline. Float lights can hang from a strap, others can be built in and illuminate the float from the inside. They also need to be replaced from time to time.
The waistcoat is given a new inspection sticker with the maintenance date and personal inspection number. The protocol is ticked off, stamped, signed, scanned and stored digitally. "This allows us to call up every order if a customer has a question," says Jaqueline Weinhold. "Or if an insurance company enquires about a claim." However, this has never happened before.
This is followed by another speciality, a lifejacket with a Hammar trigger. The yellow automatics can also withstand a cresting wave or torrential rain without immediately triggering. However, they are diva-like when it comes to maintenance: Weinhold has to carefully loosen the cartridge with a special spanner, clean the thread, refit it with threadlocker and tighten it with a torque spanner.
Around 5,500 waistcoats are serviced in this way every year at SVB in Bremen and Kiel. That sounds like a lot, but SVB founder and Managing Director Thomas Stamann points out: "In Germany, a mid-five-figure number of automatic waistcoats are sold every year. If you look at the number returned for servicing - it could be significantly higher." In Germany, waistcoats are not compulsory on pleasure craft. Some waistcoats are even returned for servicing in their original sealed packaging - bought but never worn. "It's a different story for commercial shipping," adds Ralf Theilen. "There are requirements from the trade associations. Boat schools, police, fire brigades and harbour companies - they all come regularly."
In the late afternoon, Jaqueline Weinhold folds up the last waistcoat of the day. She adjusts the zip cord and strokes the Velcro fastener, "It has to be closed properly. Don't get the tablet wet." In a few days, the waistcoat will be back with its owner. The season can begin, for sure.

Redakteurin Panorama und Reise