Well to popular demand here is my fishy tale
During the 1990's I took up the sport of sub aqua diving. I joined an SAA affiliated diving club Appleton Aquanauts. This is a sports diving club with a difference. This was/is a wreck diving club, they dive a lot in the English Channel and North Sea. Pretty deep stuff in cold dark waters. After cutting my teeth I got the bug and scared myself stupid,diving also sorts of sucken debriss.
Anyhow I had got used to the cold but I had been brought up on Jacques Coustou and wanted so much to emulate some of his feats, or recreate them in some way.
The thoughts of diving in warm clear water without a dry suit where such a pipe dream, Truk Lagoon, The Seychelles where in my minds eye as we steamed out of Eastbourne towards the grey murky swell of the Channel.
When the club posted in the news letter that the club was booking a fortnights diving in Sharm El Shiekh, my name was straight down. At last some diving with good visability, well at least better than lucky to see the hand in front of your face vis we got in the Channel.
Supprisingly my instructors name was not on the list? Having completed over 20 open water dives with him I as this bull of a man why he was not coming. His reply was curt. I don't dive anywhere where the inhabitants want to bite me, stab me, sting me, eat me or swallow me!
Sharme was a dream 36 degrees every day. I had completed over a dozen dives, when the night dive arrived. We had dived the Thistlegorm (Liberty ship sunk in WW2), we had fed Giant Groupers boiled eggs, dived with Napoleon Wraas, dived with Turtles and then it was our date with meeting nocturnal fish.
Almost as soon as the dive started I realised something was not right. The curiosity of playing with our torches soon wore off. Almost immediately we were surrounded by dozens of Pterois (Lionfish) forget your sharks, I've dived with great whites, Lion fish at night are far more scary. We were surrounded by the bastards. They were using our torch beams to catch their prey.
luckerly I had chosen to dive wearing a wet suit that night, it offered slight protection. But 2.5 thick neoprene to a Lionfish is like a custard skin to a hungry spoon. The Lionfish can punch his horn throw sheet steel if need be.
There were a dozen of us on the dive, but these bastard fish seemed to enjoy terrifying me more than the others. We were on a 45 minute drft dive in a very fast current, but the Lionfish were masters of using this jet stream. After about 20 minutes I noticed one particular fish swimming under my chest, to start with I wa worried about him impaling himself on my stab jacket, but then I figured he might get to stab me in the chest. Knowing these fish stings can be fatal I was starting to panic, luckerly he dropped out of sight, I just began to think I had out run the brute, when I felt a coursing pain in my right knee, the bastard had stabbed me.
I signalled to my buddy I needed to surface, he had seen the fish attack and feared I had been stung. We were only at 10 metres but by the time I surfaced my leg was paralysed.
The pain was excusiating.
I switched on my emergency light beacon on my stab jacket, but being half way through the dive the dive boat was over half a mile away. Some of the other divers surfaced when they saw the beacon, many of them distressed themselves by the swarming Lionfish.
So there I am laying on my bad in exuciating agony, all the dozens of dives I had done in the North Sea, English Channel, Gildenburgh, Stoney Cove and I end up like this in the warm clear Red Sea! I was not really panicing' just aprehensive of what might happen to me, will the sting kill me? How will I get back on the dive boat?
My dive buddies where all with me, four off us bobbing on the swell beacons flashing surley they would find us?
Eventually the boat appeared, the divers that had finished the drift recognised there had been an issue, the dive was cut short and divers were being picked up along route. But by this time, probably 20 minutes after the attack I'm in a pretty bad way. My leg is really hurting.
Will great difficulty the chaps and girls get me onto the boat, in those days I was well over 15st so it was not easy. I took off my air bottles in the water and let them pull me onboard by my arms. The Eygptian crew knew what to do. They had boiling water at the ready. After begging them not to cut my wet suit, I managed to wriggle out of it. The crew then poured boiling water over my leg on the affected sting site.
The scene was like something out a nautical yarn, the boat was full throttle roaring towards the decompression centre, where the crew had radioed a distress call. There seemed great concern for me on the faces around me, as I lay on the deck doing a Nelson dying impression.
When we arrived at the De Comp centre they were already ready for their casualty. I staggered off the boat with help from my colleages. by now i was in a Tee shirt, shorts and sandles. My mates packed away my gear, my room mate stayed with me at the centre and the dive boat returned to base.
My room mate was a high ranking civil servant, very cool, with a bushy moustache his name was Phil but we called him 'James' as in Bond. Nobody really new what James really did at Whitehall, maybe he was a spy, maybe he was an assasin we liked to fantasize.
Anyhow his diplomacy was very much needed. The Doctors had already diagnosed what was needed for me, a massive dose of antihistamine. They injected me a gave me cream for the sting in the knee.
Within a matter of minutes my head was swimming, I was extremely groggy very unstead on my feet. Anyhow the English speaking Doctors pronouced me fit for business, but no diving for 48 hours. They called James and me a cab, I was given a prescription for some strong pain killers. We were told the cab driver would no the way to the pharmacy after I had picked up the prescription we would be returned to our hotel.
The cab duly arrived I stumbled into the back of it with James help. We drove off into the hot Egyptian evening, we were at the pharmacy in no time, James ran in to collect the prescription. While I was sitting in the back of the cab, my head started to swim it was then while looking around me I noticed the state of the cab, it was a wreck, the windows did not close, the upholstery was hanging off the seats. While I was looking around the cab I noticed the state of the driver, he was looking straight at me he had a toothless grin below his turban, a raggedy beard and the worse of it was a deep scar that started on his forehead across his eye and the length of his chin. It was a cutlass scar, his eye was a glass one.
Christ I thought this antihistamine is strong, at that moment James got back in the cab, the driver grinned showing his one gold tooth at we took off for the hotel.
When we arrived back at our hotel James said Paul can you pay the man, I stood swaying in the Eygptian evening breeze, Ali Babba just grinned a gave him a hand full of notes christ knows how much, he either looked awfully please or really pissed off.
It was hard to determine in this drug induced state anyhow he set off in a cloud of smoke and dust pumping his horn.
By the time I joined the other divers for our evening meal, I was fully away with the faries. I was the source of great entertainment.
After a few days the swelling in my leg went down, I dived the last two day's of the holiday. It was was and is my last ever night dive.
Pictures to be attached