Bubbles…

I thought I’d try my hand at snorkelling today so booked on a boat trip to visit some pristine uninhabited islands with a promise of one of Jaques Cousteau’s famous quotes…

“ The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever”

We got a cheap deal with a kindly local seafarer, Mr Kunabalan, who got us to choose a life vest from the rack and gave us a choice of craft…

   

I’d watched all the episodes of the Blue Planet so had a good idea what to expect and it all looked very promising.

We chose the bigger 06 Happy Island Service boat and climbed aboard just after breakfast.

As we powered into the snorkel zone, I could see the inviting turquoise waters and stood up in anticipation and donned my mask and snorkel in readiness.

As the keen pilot swung the boat round with the powerful ‘Mercury’ outboard, he dramatically applied the brakes and as the boat lurched, I fell backwards sharply and got physically jammed between the rib seats and large American lady tourist from Texas. 

Because I’d lathered on the factor 50 liberally, in anticipation of being submerged for a few hours in the blazing sun, I was now as slick and oily as a seal, so as she jumped up in surprise, I was catapulted into the air like a wet bar of soap. As I landed back onto the slippy PVC vinyl seats, the craft came to a sudden halt and I slid dramatically across three cushions and plopped over the side, head first into the sea like a drunk penguin.

Now with the temperature of the water lower than the air, it was at this point that my mask decided to fog up, causing zero visibility, which impacted on my coordination. It didn’t help that my unsecured, flimsy, orange life jacket had risen up over my head and had snagged itself on my snorkel. 🤿 . Snorkels aren’t designed to work very well underwater and I found this out as I took a deep breath and instantly filled one lung with salty water, this reflex prompted my breakfast bowl of noodle soup to start travelling up the pipe the opposite direction..

At that point my head hit the coral below…

Coughing and spluttering like an old lambretta on a Bank holiday, I emerged once again into the daylight and as I was hauled back into the boat, with snot streaming from my nose, I realised that I was probably more Jack Duckworth than Jaques Cousteau when it came to this particular pastime…

This is what I would have seen…

Instead, enjoy a bit of Biffy Clyro with ‘Bubbles’.