After sailing our yacht around the Bay of Islands, our feet didn’t get to stay on terra firma for long. The next day we were being bounced up and down on a RIB speedboat towards the underwater wreck of Greenpeace’s Rainbow Warrior, which was bombed by the French back in the Eighties. The boat was then floated to the Bay of Islands where it was deliberately sunk as a monument for the pleasure of divers. Twenty-two years later and the wreck is now home to a plentiful sea life and colourful reefs. Claire and I dived separately for our first dive as she had already undertaken a deep dive in Zanzibar as part of her training, whereas I had not and so had to display my proficiency to my instructor.

It wasn’t my first wreck dive–I swam alongside and over one in Fujairah–but it was the first time I had been allowed to swim into one, which was great. I’m pleased to tell you that the dive went really well for both Squiffy and I (rarely do we have a dive where everything ‘just works’). The second dive for me didn’t go so well however. It was closer to the shore and I was being examined on my buoyancy control. Improper weighting, strong currents and tiredness made this dive one of my least enjoyable. It didn’t help that I vomited into my mouthpiece and had to spend thirty minutes breathing sick-flavoured air. The smell of which actually made me vomit again — there’s nothing quite like the smell of puke to make you puke…

Claire told me afterwards that the best thing to have done in this situation would have been to remove the mouthpiece and let the fish eat the bits–they love it–although I wasn’t sure whether my instructor would have marked me down for this. It’s a bit gross: like discovering the ‘warm patch’ of water only to find out that the diver ahead has just peed in his or her wetsuit…

Breathing vomit aside, a most enjoyable day — looking forward to diving the much bigger ex-HMS Canterbury wreck next week. I’m off to brush my furry teeth. Again.