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Matt's yacht is wonderful, not only did it easily sleep the seven of us, we were able to stow away 6 full sets of dive kit and an amazing 24 diving cylinders - mind you, there was a certain amount of calculation about the extra weight on board bearing in mind that the clearance depth to leave Christchurch harbour can be down to 30 cm. Following an excellent meal prepared by Captain Matt it was decreed that I, as the only female on board, was to be made an honorary boy for the duration of the trip - this meant that I wasn't allowed to complain if the loo seat was left up! We were all given the instructions for the use of the toilets (yes, there are two on board) which included the words, "whatever you do, don't touch the big red knob" - This caused much hilarity and I quickly realised that this trip was not going to be for the blushing sensitive type.
Pete felt the need to commune with nature and became friendly with the local swans. To this day I'm not sure quite how friendly that entailed, but there may be a few Simblett like Cygnets floating around Christchurch, smoking cigarettes and drinking whisky.
Our first dive was the following day and our surface cover was provided by Captain Matt rowing the yachts RIB and following our bubbles. As I watched him following Matt and Fletch, the image I had was of Arnold Schwartzenegger in the film "Twins" as he rowed away from his deserted island. I have to confess that when Matt D provided the surface cover on a later dive, he was slightly less impressive as he used the outboard engine, not the oars!
The yacht is very well equipped but it is lacking one essential item - a shower hook. After a dive and a sunbathe, there is nothing better than a shower. Understanding how difficult that could be with no where to hang it, I offered to hold the shower for Dave (Dave, my husband, not DJ!) Again, after much hilarity my nickname was born - "The Shower Hooker".
Dave ferried us ashore for our beach BBQ on the rib under instruction from DJ - "...go left, go right, watch that rock, lift the engine!" As an honorary boy, I entered that male bastion - cooking on the BBQ. I think the others were quite impressed until I kept dropping everything off the grill into the coals. Matt D, as a more experienced male than myself, quickly took over and I was most disgruntled that nothing took a dive into the coals under his experienced hand. This was a five star BBQ with sausages, chicken, spare ribs, salad and potatoes followed by bananas with chocolate and maple syrup then BBQ'd marshmallows (just how many of those little critters did DJ eat!). The return to the yacht would have been uneventful except that DJ sat on the salad bowl, hence no more salad for us!
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I must now move on to the report of the dive of the year. Poor Pete was talked into making his one and only dive in UK waters from "Duodecimal". He chose his buddy - Captain Matt, and they started to kit up. First he had no weight belt, then Fletch tried to reconfigure his first stage, declaring that Pete really ought to get it serviced before he went to the Red Sea. They were just about ready to go when, in full kit, Captain Matt had to take a phone call. Somehow things didn't bode well for Pete's one and only dive in UK waters this year. They did the dive and returned to the boat (so at least something went well) but Pete was grumbling about not seeing anything but a few pollocks and complaining that his cuff dump was leaking. That was a bit of an understatement as there was more sea water inside his dry-suit than in the sea - perhaps this was a new kind of semi-dry. If you look at the picture overleaf, Pete is wringing out his socks!
Matt D and Dave decided to try some fishing to see if the could catch dinner. After much complaining about the line getting tangled (I'll not mention anything about a bad workman always blaming his tools) they returned defeated with an empty red bucket. It's a good job Captain Matt had been to Sainsbury's before the trip.
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Our last night degenerated, as all last nights on dive trips do, into a drunken fog. I think we got through three bottles of Port that night but lost count as Fletch found the guitar and he, Pete and Captain Matt sang at the tops of their voices with not a care in the world. We didn't realise that Fletch could play the guitar, otherwise Captain Matt could have hidden it better!
The morning after all ideas for diving had been abandoned, partly due to the drunken state of the crew, but also due to the Force 8 gale we were about to experience. Force 8 gales or no force 8 gales, a hearty breakfast was eaten by all. If I managed to hold onto my breakfast on the journey back, they agreed I could be promoted from an honorary boy to an honorary man.
The way Captain Matt handled that yacht in those conditions was nothing less than impressive. He is now my Star - (sorry Jerry, you are but a twinkle!).
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Sarah The Honorary Man!!!!!! |