The other day I told you about my sore little bits on my ankles...and other tales of woe regarding over-exerted muscles and the such like. Did I get much sympathy?? Not really ...but you know what? - I've made my bed and now I must lay in it.
However I certainly didn't sign up for serious head injuries. Yesterday I was playing the victim in a rescue scenario involving my colleague Rheinhard, who needs to complete his rescue diver course (you may remember I managed this back in February 2010) along with Fred (a quite annoying Scottish ex -senior policeman who has a story for everything...oh - how interesting you are - please continue talking.....no really...I'm enraptured....honestly). The Oscar winning performance involved thrashing about on the surface as a panicked diver. I was good. Nay, brilliant. I am - in fact - expecting my Damehood in next years honours.
One of the suggestions is to throw a float attached to a rope to the victim (if they're not too far away) so that they can then be pulled to safety.
Our illustrious leader Martin Stanhope decided to demonstrate and coiled the roap in readyness for said throw. He picked up the heavy float and threw it - with vigour. The idea is that you throw it beyond the panicked diver so that the rope is by their side ......however, Martin has an excellent aim - and the float struck me squarely on the head. It was heavy. Very heavy, and - it hurt...a lot. I swore. Loudly...and then laughed out loud. Luckily I was wearing my neoprene balaclava so the resulting cut on my head was smaller and less serious than it could have been.
This morning I have woken up with a huge lump on my head. My eye is half closed and I look like an extra from Star Trek. I look so awful that I have banished to the back of the shop so that no customers can see the outcome of dive accidents.
Martin said it was my fault as I should have moved out of the way!
Revenge - which will be mine - will be swift and devilish.
Well..hello there! Been a bit busy diving of late and not had much chance to post anything :) I would like to tell you about my injuries though. First of all - the bottom of the seam on my wetsuit leg has rubbed a hole in my ankle. It's very sore and I have to grit my teeth every time I get in the water as it stings like hell. Large amounts of sudocreme have been applied to the afflicted area - but so far..because it keeps getting wet..it's not healing. Then -there's the very painful calf muscle. I must be doing something wrong with my finning technique because the calf muscle on my left leg is sooooo sore! I cannot walk normally when I first get out of bed in the morning...but after a few minutes - it eases and I'm okay. Then there's the gammy right ear. It has been blocked now for three days, and must have something stuck in it - because it keeps dispensing the odd drop of water at random times...very odd!
I can however now exit the water at Chirkewaa harbour completely unaided - which is vast improvement on last week when I needed a huge fully grown man to hoist me out.
Yesterday I completed a 50 minute dive - carrying only 4kg and came out with 80bar. What the flipping 'eck does that mean???? - well basically it means that my diving is improving every day.
Well - in case you didn't already know it - I have news for you. Malta is the land of the mysogynist. We'll...perhaps that's a bit strong...they don't actually 'hate' women over here - but they are seriously chauvenistic. Problem?...hmm..not sure yet. I'll let you know. Funnily enough - the worst offenders are the british ex-pats. There is a large ex-pat community over here - and girls - they're at least twenty years behind the guys in the UK. They really really think that women are good for sex, laundry and making the tea. Can you just imagine how that sits with me...?It's hilarious. For the first few days I vocalised my objections quite strongly (you don't say)...and then - after a particularly warm exchange between myself and the man who owns the local pub (fifty-something...divorced...comes from Watford...speaks with squeaky voice) I just decided to shut the hell up - and not bother. It was bit like fighting a massively losing battle. Somewhat akin to trying to teach somebody to play concert standard Beethoven on a piano using two lump hammers instead of ten digits. Pointless - and a tad frustrating :)
The chaps over here regularly involve themselves in their favourite past-time (story telling) - which involves desperately trying to out-do each other with tales of sexual prowess and diving-bravery. It is hilarious. Truly. I have never been so quiet. In my life. Ever.
I honestly don't know if the ex-pats here left the UK because they chose to - or if they were asked to leave :)
Well this is the team that I am working with. So far they seem to be nice people. The tall guy in the yellow t shirt is called John, the girl is called George, and the other young man is called Reinhardt. He's from Germany...you don't say??? He's very nice actually...lovely manners and very helpful.
I've done about 9 dives this week already and assisted George in teaching an open water course. It's a laugh a minute at work - I have to deal with sexist comments all day long and ribald jokes from the men folk...mind you - it's nothing I can't handle - and I've been giving as good as I get :)
It's lots and lots of fun - and I am having a ball. The guys never stop with the jokes and the nonsense - and it is a whole lot of fun.
At night after work we usually go for a drink, and then home for supper and an early night...the work is very demanding and tiring and by eight pm I am so ready for my bed.
I am getting stronger by the day - On Monday I couldn't lift a scuba cylinder off the floor - but today I've been loading them into the back of the flat bed truck. Also I was having real problems getting in and out of the sea whilst wearing all my kit...after a dive my little legs were like jelly and I couldn't walk !!!! Today I managed to climb a quayside ladder with all my kit on all by myself!!! Soon I will be like Garth!
I also managed to send some postcards home today.....