LSSAU

            Over the welsh border we went and it wasn’t long before an accident had occurred. Fortunately for us, it was on the opposite side of the dual carriageway, but that didn’t prevent is queuing for half an hour, due to the muppets in front of us insisting to slow down to get a better look. When we got to the accident site it became apparent that a sporty type car thought it wise to bury itself in the boot of a saloon. Everyone was on their feet, with the exception of the unfortunate soul being cut out of the rear of the saloon.

            We progressed (and by this point I had not seen a single sheep) into another queue of traffic getting a look at another accident. It was being put over the radio that a lorry had jack knifed, however as we crawled past the scene, it was clearly not a lorry, but a Land Rover towing a boat! Judging by the stares we got driving past the queue in the opposite direction, they had also heard it was a Land Rover towing a boat involved in the accident…

            As we approached Fishguard, I asked James, being the local by comparison to myself, if he knew of any chip shops. He informed me that he only new Fishguard, we were going to Goodwick. After dropping the car and boat off and assessing priorities we headed to the pub. The others went ahead whilst I made the most of the Tesco Express, divulging in a Ginster’s something or other. Upon tucking into my pasty and walking up the hill, I found the others in fits of laughter, pointing excitedly across the road to a fish and chip “restaurant”.

            Ian King joined us shortly after our arrival, as did Uncle Jimmy Duggan. A couple of rounds later, insistently paid for by Jimmy; Matt W, Matt D, Andy and Dan arrived. Leaving them our considerably warmed seats, the earlier arrivals headed back to the scout hut. Having unloaded the car and the boat, made the Gin and Tonics and laid out the biscuits, Kingy did his bit for the Navy Careers people, whilst myself, Kelly and James listened intently. After the wise words and more cheese and biscuits, bedtime was welcome.

            Breakfast on Saturday was comical also. Dan’s fried eggs tasted alright “in a sandwich”, but these eggs won no beauty awards for sure. Unsurprisingly, the workman blamed his tools.

            Diving: Saturday AM. Chris + Andy, Matt D + Dan, Si + Geoff + Matt W (correct me if I’m wrong, which is more than likely). Myself and Andy were the first to enter and descend onto the ‘wreck’. Despite the fact that Andy had 2 compasses on him, we failed to navigate at all and hit a small current. We blobbed off as soon as, and before we knew it, we were drifting at some speed. Whizzing past rocks and some seriously huge crabs, we surfaced after 20 mins. We could see the boat from here, but divers were still being entered. The current soon took us around two headlands. After realising I was shit scared and the releasing of some serious chemical warfare (methane – no silly ideas please) in my suit, I decided we should swim ashore. Andy was all up for a pint of Guinness in Ireland but he thought that my idea was probably wiser. It was a bastard of a surface swim to say the least. With the current and the waves, it was easily as bad as, if not worse than from the furthest corner of the ‘Cove to the bus stop. When we reached the land, the thought occurred to me: how the hell to mermaids, whales and dolphins, manage to flop graciously onto rocks?!?! A combination of lucky waves, ripped gloves and sheer determination pulled us onto those rocks. Good dives were had elsewhere, with the exception of Dan, who, clearly as a result of his very own fried eggs, decided to be sick through his regs. Nice… Having said this, that incident may have been in the afternoon, I forget. The afternoons dive was on the ‘Cow and the Calf’, a pair of rocks which were sized relative to each other as a cow and her calf. It turned out to also be a wreck dive. Some divers found the wreck itself, whereas others, myself and Andy for example saw tonnes of slates and various items of boating type equipment (one of which contained a very tasty looking lobster but it managed to evade us). Upon reaching the slip to take the boat out of the water, a small queue had formed. Those remaining on the boat flung themselves foolishly into the water, this turned into a competition which Matt W won (-I was unable to catch all of my legs into the summersault, I hate it when that happens…)

            We weren’t out the water ‘til quite late, however Geoff and James produced a great dinner for us all – leaving the carrots skins on keeps the flavour in! Remember that! Three remained behind to do the washing up as the others piled into the two cars to meet Uncle Jimmy at the pub.

            Up early again to launch the boat on Sunday, the weather slightly worse than Saturday. There was a stronger wind and larger waves but it remained sunny. Breakfast was once again a laughing affair as James burnt the beans! Scooping his own unburnt ones from the top, he then mixed it round so it was “fair” and everybody else had to put up with it. The ‘burnt’ jokes remained throughout the day…

            The days dive was on a wreck a short ride out from the harbour. The first pair went down without a problem. One burst “o” ring and a set of regs later, Matt D and me, descended onto the wreck. After returning Andy’s regs, he and his buddies dived. Apologies go out at this point – I haven’t got a clue who dived with who on the Sunday.

            After queuing again for the slip, the boat was taken out of the water and taken back to the scout hut. Having realised our priorities, the boat and all the kit was abandoned and lunch was declared. After checking whether James had managed to avoid burning the sandwiches, crisps, chocolate, pickle and the dive cake, they were consumed.

            Everybody mucked in as per norm to clean the boats and, as usual, get soaked by the man with the hose. “Whoops!” Simon said every now and again in response to cries from other keen cleaners.