Many years ago I was on a spearfishing trip on the Barrier Reef. We had had a great day, I'd snapped my shooting line on a massive fish and needed to upgrade one of my shooting bands, so that night we all settled down to do some maintenance on our guns, swap stories and sink some cold ones.
At about 9pm the sun was well down, we had the outer lights on so we could see anything that came too close to the boat, and I was ready to test the repairs I'd done to my gun. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was due to having one coldie too many, maybe it was due to inattention when tying the knot, I don't know the full reason... but when I loaded the gun to test it, one rubber let go in a spectacular way and the whole gun jumped off my chest and out the stern of the boat, making a big splash. I could see the gun sinking, and in that split second I made the second mistake of my night. As quick as a flash I had my shirt and shorts off, and I dived into the deep to grab the gun. It only took about ten seconds to retrieve it, swim back onto the duckboard, and get back out of the water.
Obviously, while all this was happening, a boatload of raucous spearfishermen were all voicing their varied opinions as to whether I was making the best possible choice.
Meanwhile the captain, who was down below while all this was happening, raced on deck and had a very funny expression on his face when I emerged dripping from the stern, still clutching my precious gun. He was quick to inform me that just ten minutes earlier, on the other side of the boat, several sizeable sharks had been sighted, and perhaps it wasn't the best idea to go for a dip.
It's moments like that you remember
