Today started out surprisingly windy and we could see the white horses on the Tiran Strait. At the harbour for Tiran, much discussion was had between dive guides and boat captain.

The conclusion emerged that there may be a second dive at Tiran if the wind died down, but otherwise we would be diving the bays. The dives would probably have been lovely at Tiran with virtually no current. But picking us back up would have been extremely dangerous given the height of the waves.

The first dive was from and to Maka, moored in a bay while we explored Ras Bob. This was a lovely gentle dive, the highlight of which was a coral grouper having its teeth cleaned by a little cleaner wrasse.

The second was back as Ras Nasrani which is always beautiful, and this dive had, amongst other things, a giant spotted pufferfish hiding in a hole, a slate-pencil sea urchin hiding in another hole, and a yellow spotted burrfish out on the hunt.

We skipped the third dive, which was just as well given that the returning divers bemoaned the fact that there was nothing to see. Instead, we took a night dive off the Conrad house reef where we’d done our check dive on Monday.

It was spoiled a little bit by a spoilt sixteen year old with a crush on the dive guide. But overall it was a good dive. There was the obscenely long bouncy jetty to contend with on the way out, but as it was the third time I’d managed to walk up it without falling off, and the wind was gentle, I was now an expert and there were no problems.

The featherstars were out in force, displaying a vast range of colours, along with a couple of monochrome sea ferns. A little black and white starfish made its way across the sand, while a sea hare pretended it wasn’t there under some coral. A sea cucumber looked rather like a loaf of bread going for a walk, clearfin lionfish joined the party and a giant moray showed us its teeth.

The day fish were sleeping, so we saw a parrotfish in its protective bubble, and a dozy triggerfish sleeping in a hole that wasn’t quite big enough for it.

The biggest highlight which was so fantastic that I forgot to put it in this missive until Chris pointed out the omission was a vibrant Spanish dancer resting on some coral.

When we surfaced, the wind proved to us that it could go from gentle breeze to howling hurricane in 45 minutes. The mildly bouncing jetty was now writhing all over the place. Have you ever seen an eel squirming? Well, imagine the jetty doing the same thing. There was no way I could walk it normally, let alone with full kit.

After getting out of the water, we sat on a platform at the end of the jetty waiting for everyone to get out. Already quite anxious about this jetty, I was horrified to find that my legs wouldn’t work. I had full feeling, could wiggle my toes and bend my knees, but when I tried to stand up, admittedly always an effort in full kit, I couldn’t. I could not get my bum to lift off that platform.

Then a big burly Egyptian came and hoisted me to my feet, and it transpired that my cylinder had fallen, which meant that I had a much lower centre of gravity, and my knees were quite simply at the wrong angle to lift the changed configuration. Thankful that I wasn’t rapidly losing limbs, the jetty suddenly didn’t seem too bad. Until I stepped on it just as it lurched to the left.

I don’t often turn into a big girly wuss and can take most things thrown at me, but my sense of balance isn’t the best (I habitually fall down stairs without the aid of foreign objects, cats or alcohol), and I just yelled to anyone who would listen that I just. Couldn’t. Do. It.

Chris braved the jetty with the promise that he would go dump his kit and then come back and get me (my hero!).

The dive guide had other ideas though, and took most of the weight of the low riding cylinder, announced that he had got ahold of me and that I should just put one foot in front of the other, and he’d make sure I didn’t fall in.

I was going to object, but since he was already walking into my back, I really didn’t have any option, and I guess that was the idea. It seemed like forever, but we got to the end where Chris was waiting.

Bouncy jetties in a storm? Never. Again. Or at least not without some big burly manservant type to haul all my kit for me.

We returned, shattered back to the hotel, and while showering, the Immodium was reached for. But after a rather horrific episode of de-gassing (wind), it was put back without opening.