Not Quite Twenty Thousand Leagues

Another squeeze into the car, this time with wet but rapidly drying bottoms. The quick journey back to Skala Prinos, where we all pop out (peas and pod spring to mind). Juniors air tank needs a top up before we go - as it's smaller there isn't as much air in it. Then wade out to the boat. This time it's a RIB rather than the solid boat we had a few days ago. And getting in requires some flexibility that, with a combination of age, heat and wetsuit, does not come easily. The thought does cross my mind about how we will get back in later but there isn't much time for that. We bounce off across the waves towards the wreck of a ferry, sunk about 40 years ago. When we get there then we have to moor to a bouy, an exercise that turns out harder than might be expected and we all end up having a go, the waves repeatedly pushing us the wrong way. Finally we succeed.

On with the equipment and into the sea, one at a time. Junior is again the most elegant, but she does have an instructor looking after her personally. Regulators in and time to descend. We sink to the bottom of the sea, where we are surrounded by a field of seaweed, it's like being in long grass. We are all OK, we've made it down. Now we have to go through the safety procedures again. First Junior, who manages to get complete it. Next its J's turn. Not so easy. I know exactly what's going through her head, I had the same when I did this back at uni (before you start to think that this is a life skill for me, I never got out of the uni swimming pool). The brain just can't comprehend that it is possible to be underwater, and taking the regulator out of the mouth is a step too far. Sadly J had to return to the surface, but I still believe that technically she has been SCUBA diving in the sea.

Junior then indicates she would like to go back up but the instructor looks her in the eye and checks everything is OK. I can see her as well and there is no indication of panic so we go ahead with swimming, the instructor keeping one hand on Juniors tank. We swim around the wreck. No sign of octopi but some gigantic shellfish - if these turned up in your Moules Mariniere then you'd have quite a shock - and some beautiful blue fish (I may be colour blind but these were stunning). A wonderful experience and all too soon we are heading back to the surface (when I say all too soon, we paid for a two hour session but by the end of it we had had five hours at no extra cost).

Think back a couple of paragraphs. Remember how I thought briefly about getting back into the boat. Well I rather wished I had thought more about it. For Junior it was simple, light enough in weight to be helped in. Me, not so lightweight. No way anyone was lifting me in. The theory is simple enough, kick like fury and the flippers will spear you out like a flying fish. Hmm. No. I was more like a stranded whale. In all honesty I even sized up the swim back to shore. I am still not sure how I ever got back in. Finally I was in the boat, the instructor got in and we headed back. Waves coming over the side we took on water. Initially the instructor laughed, RIBs don't sink. Suddenly life became less jovial as he realised just how much water we had taken on. He slowed down, we rearranged ourselves to distribute the weight differently, and managed to make it back to the harbour.

An exciting experience with some wonderful people, we were lucky to find CAT and I recommend them to anyone. Junior did ask me, when no one else was around, why they wouldn't let her back up to the surface. I have explained that it was because she looked ok. There is a bit of me that feels guilty that Junior did this and says she was scared. But there is also a bit of me that is incredibly proud of her as she did so well. And when we got home and saw the photographs that they took while we were underwater, then she was also proud of what she had achieved.