We all know how expensive diving equipment is, and how upset we get when we lose anything. So you can imagine how I felt recently after a snorkel at the clubhouse. I was taking off my fins at the steps at high tide and meticulously placing them safely on the step when my attention shifted to helping Anne, one of our new trainees, who had just arrived back after her first snorkel. Being the chivalrous guy that I am I felt it was more important to help a lady to get her fins off than to look after my own! When Anne was safely in the clubhouse with her fins under her arm, I went to pick up my fins off the step. There they were, gone! The water was lapping around the step, like a dog licking its lips after devouring your dinner!
The rescue plan was called into action immediately, a search party was formed, and the search began.
Jean, Remis and I spread out to cover as wide an area as we could. We carried out an exhaustive search of the whole area. Over and across we went covering every square centimetre. One fin was found straight away, trapped against the wall by the current at the bottom of the murky water. This was now placed safely on the step, well away from the lapping water. Surely the other one couldn’t be too far away? Not a sign. How could one fin disappear out into the open sea, while the other one was safely cornered by the current?
I could see that Jean and Remis were getting anxious to enjoy the pleasure of a warm shower after a March snorkel, so I suggested that we abandon the search. After all I had a spare fin at home - I lost its match last year during the course of a fairly fraught rescue test! Ok, to lose one fin is unfortunate, to lose two – very careless!
While Jean continued to search over by the rocks, I was standing near the wall feeling sorry for myself, and Remis was half-way between Jean and I. I noticed that Remis was looking at me in a puzzled sort of way. And he kept counting to two, and pointing to the retrieved fin on the step (one), then to the water (two). The more I scratched my head wondering what Remis was on about, the more animated he became … ONE (pointing at the step), TWO (pointing at the water)…. ONE (step), TWO (water)…! What is he on about? I know that there’s one fin safely on the step, and that the other one is somewhere in the water!
I went to walk a bit closer to Remis so he could explain what all the counting was about, when I got that sinking feeling – you know the one you get when you realise that you’ve just done something very foolish. Except in my case it was more of a ‘rising’ feeling … starting at the foot and rising up to the brain (half-brain, that is!). The fin was found! It was exactly where I had put it with great care and attention … no, not on the step when the snorkel was over, but an hour previously, at the beginning of the snorkel … firmly strapped to my left foot!
It seems that since taking up this diving lark, I have become so much at one with the water that I can’t tell whether I have a fin on or not! That’s my excuse anyway!
Thanks to Jean and Remis for all their efforts, and apologies for the wild goose chase … the worst part was that all the hot water was gone by the time we got to the showers!
Now I wonder … what are the chances that the ‘lost’ fin from last year is still on the other foot??!
Anon
