As with each edition of Electrical Connection, Dale West tells an anecdotal story about the risks of working with high voltage, stressing the importance of safety.

Andrew has been working in construction for 15 years, installing switchrooms and HV equipment without ever experiencing any kind of arc flash incident. But then it happened; this is Andrew’s story.

I heard plenty of stories and seen plenty of videos about arc flash, but no one I knew had even been near an arc flash to explain what it was like.

“It’s all over before you know it,” they say. “You don’t feel it; you can be conscious, look fine and even call the partner on the phone, and next week, you can be dead.”

The mind boggles with the idea of what it would be like. What am I doing in this job? Why didn’t I go into a safer field of work? And then you get back to work and although you take precautions, you give it little thought.

Well, that day, was just like any other.

After three months on site, the job was coming to an end with basically only the commissioning work needing to be completed. The switchrooms were open as we were coming and going as needed, barriers were up where live testing was being performed and everything was running along nice and smooth.

At 9:45 am I entered the main switchroom to look at a drawing on a desk at the other end of the room. No one else was in the room. I walked past a panel, maintaining my distance around the barriers.

Just as I walked past, I happened to take a quick glancing look into the panel, and it happened.

It was all over before I even knew anything had happened. Like a camera flash going off in your face, all I could see was this huge green light. And the noise; rather than an explosion sound like I would have expected, it was more like the crack sound of a large wooden rule slapping the top of a desk. Only, so loud, it was like I could actually feel the noise, rather than hear it. The sound of the crack hit me like a physical object smashing into my face and whole body.

I swear it felt like a solid wall of light and noise smashed into me. The next instant, I was on the floor. All I could see was this huge green glow. All I could hear was a long continual ring. And I felt nothing; nothing at all. I knew I was on the floor, but I could not feel it.

After what seemed like minutes, but was no doubt probably a few seconds, the glow finally left me and everything had gone dark, and I mean completely dark. Darker than just no lights in the room. I blinked rapidly and every time I saw the flash.

I tried to listen to what might be happening, but there was nothing there. I knew I was yelling out to someone, my throat was hurting as I called out, but I couldn’t even hear myself.

I started to scream louder as I feverishly began patting myself down to put out the flames on my clothes. I could not feel hands hitting my legs arms and body, but I could feel the burning as I was patting myself down.

Sheer panic started to take over. I tried to remain calm and think about it. Where am I? How do I get out? Where am I in the room? What direction am I facing? Where is the door? Where is the board? Is the board on fire? Is the room on fire? Where the hell do I go? Will I be walking straight into the board? Is it still arcing?

Think Andrew, think! You have to get out now! I started shuffling along the floor on all fours. I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t. I was glued to the floor with fear; afraid I was heading toward the board and would end up walking straight into it.

Something hits me and my shoulder hits the floor hard. I immediately try and get back up but I can’t get traction. My hand made contact with the floor to prop myself up and my arm gives way.

Then I realise, I am being dragged; someone is dragging me along the floor. I start screaming even louder. Yes, yes, yes, like I am cheering them on to go faster. I had no idea you could feel such excitement right in the middle of being “killed”.

We must be outside the room; they have stopped dragging me. There is no fight left in me. I am too exhausted to even try and get up. Opening my eyes is not even something I want to do. I am afraid of what is going to happen. When will the pain kick in? What has happened? How bad is it?

They roll me onto my back. They are not doing anything. Why are they not doing anything? I don’t want to open my eyes. I can feel them touching me. Straightening my arms and legs, putting their hands on my chest, patting me as if to offer some kind of reassurance.

Ever so faint as if a long way away I hear, “Andrew. Andrew. Andrew, can you hear me?” It becomes louder and clearer. “Open your eyes, Andrew.” They said it a few times and although I did not want to open them for fear I would then start to feel pain, I slowly started to open them.

Nothing! Nothing! I can still see nothing. They kept talking to me but, I don’t know why but I did not answer them. All that was on my mind was I could not see. I kept blinking and blinking as if, maybe I could get them to work if I just keep blinking.

I still feel no pain. Nothing at all. My hearing was getting better but this terrible ringing sound was getting louder as my hearing slowly returned.

Purple. I can see purple. A big purple spot, right in the middle. I could not see anything, but I was so grateful that I could at least see a colour.

Over a period of about five minutes, all these colours started appearing and eventually I could see shapes and my vision started to return.

By this time there were about a dozen people hovering over me. Everyone was rushing around and yelling orders and basically just complete chaos. But for some reason, I cannot explain why but it felt calming.

I wanted to see how much damage I had done to myself, while at the same time, I didn’t want to know. But I had to know. So, it seemed like it took forever and all my will to bring my hands up so I could see them; see how they looked.

Fine. They looked fine. How can they be fine? That doesn’t make any sense. I felt it happen. How on earth can they not be burnt? Suddenly, I had all the energy in the world to tilt my head up and look down the rest of my body, my chest arms and legs. Not a single thing was wrong. The feeling of the intense noise along with the light, combined with the fear, made me absolutely feel, without a doubt that I was burnt.

That was nearly a year ago. My hearing has not returned to normal, and my eyes sustained some permanent damage but I can still get around okay. I am still an electrician but couldn’t continue in the same field and sometimes, without warning, I feel that noise hit me and see that green flash.

I can’t describe the incredible feeling of helplessness and fear of standing in a room where you couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel anything and you have no idea if there is a fire or exposed live equipment right in front of you that you are about to walk in to.

And I was only walking past a switchboard.