Over the next few years my husband and I are hoping to do some long-distance cruises on our Dufour 365, so we both agreed that it was useful to have a trained diver on board.

Do you want a body like Ursula Andress as she walks out of the water in all her glory... all you have to do is wear a wetsuit- Deborah Ratcliffe

My other half is not a natural swimmer; he has a tendancy to plummet to the depths at an alarming rate and to drop to the bottom like a brick. Trying to float and stay in one place is impossible; he contiunously has to ‘paddle’ around and always has that ‘sinking’ feeling.

I have the opposite problem – sinking is virtually impossible, as I bob like a cork on the surface. One fine day I drew the short straw and went to learn to dive.

However, all this frivolty has a serious side. We had an incident a while ago which caused us to think seriously about diving again, when we snagged an unmarked fishing pot/line.

By chance, we were due to haul out so were able to check for any damage to the sail drive. Fortunately there was none, but we were worried about future trouble, as unmarked fishing pots appear to be proliferating, and might need to get into the water to do some serious untangling. We have now fitted a rope cutter as an extra precaution.

I have to say I was not a natural at diving. I swim like a fish but with all the diving gear on I felt like a trussed up old hen. However, I found there are some fantastic plus points learning to dive.

Do you too want a body like Ursula Andress as she walks out of the water in all her glory or be a dashing young Sean Connery in the cult Bond films? Then all you have to do is wear a wet suit.

Now everyone must have heard about the ‘living bra’, corsets, girdles and the like to control and contort the body beautiful. Well, pop a wet suit on under your evening dress or tuxedo and you too will have the figure of Ursula or Sean. As a mature lady, I have the confidence of an haute couture model when I don my wetsuit and sashay down the pontoon.

A wet suit should be a number one on all slimmers’ lists. When I slip mine on I feel svelte and oh so trim. When I take it off – well, everything seems to get that ‘gravity’ feeling and things migrate.

So when I started my diving I took on a new lease of life – when I pour myself into my wet suit I feel I have at last beaten ‘gravity’. Everyone should have that ‘wet suit’moment.

After passing my basic PADI dive course I went on a deep dive to a wreck. However, the conditions were not perfect – a large swell made entry from the rocks difficult and the water, even at 10 to15 metres was very murky. As a relative novice, I was not feeling confident, as the deeper I went the murkier the water became.

I also remembered tales told to me of giant eels and the odd shark. By now the vis was barely a body length so I decided I was literally out of my depth and signalled to the leader I wanted to surface.

We did. I explained my reason for aborting the dive and she told me she was in fact waiting to see how long I would hold out. The conditions were not for novices and she was just going to suggest I returned to the shore.

As this was a dive from rocks, you had to wait for the right wave to give you a heave up onto the craggy outcrops. It was easy getting in the water – but a different kettle of fish getting out. The first few waves were too lightweight – I needed a real monster to throw me ashore (with all my extra weights needed to help control my bouyancy).

Then it came – the wave from the deep. It literally flung me ashore and then dragged me back like a Formula One racing car at full throttle. I clung on tenaciously. Afterwards I realised I had lacerated my fingers and hands – blood was generously flowing. However, my wetsuit protected me.

Finally I made it. I glanced back and saw my dive leader give a cheery ‘thumbs up’ when she saw I was safe. She then disappeared into the gloom below.

Gingerly I crept forward a few inches and realised I was stuck… no way could I stand up.

Luckily a kind gentleman out walking saw my predicament and assisted me to the vertical.

I stumbled back to the club house a short walk away – and then had three months of physio to put my back together. Would I dive again? Of course – I miss that ‘wetsuit feeling’.