I must apologise for my absence of late, but I’ve been off the rocks completely. I’ve gone down, you see. ‘Real low down,’ to quote Sheryl Crowe. Not through breaking depth records or exploring deep dark sub-aqua cave systems though, but by diving headfirst over the handlebars into a rock at 50. It was a record of some kind I suppose, a personal best, but unfortunately it totally ruined my crash helmet. However, I’m happy to report that I’ve bought a new one and I’m now back On The Rocks again, still sucking and blowing at 51.

A friend of mine got back from one of his wreck hunting trips in the Gulf of Suez a couple of weeks ago. It’s amazing what’s still lying around out there undiscovered, but then this has been a major sailing route and war zone for centuries – if not millennia. I can understand the Carnatic running aground all those years ago, or any other vessel relying on the wind, the stars and Gods Will to navigate, but how a modern ship with radar, sonar and GPS plotter can not only run into the reef, but run into a wreck already sat on top of the reef, will forever amaze me. I guess nobody was looking………………….

What’s 150 feet long and 12 feet wide with a lump in the middle? asked young friend Peter with a smile. He’d been out on safari playing with his side scan sonar for a week and found, amongst other things, a submarine! These waters must be littered with undiscovered wrecks of all kinds. We’ve all seen ships, motorbikes, trucks, trains, tanks, bombs, Wellington boots and torpedoes lying on the sea bed, but there must also be planes, helicopters and pieces of eight out there. It’s simply a matter of finding them. ‘Did I want to know where this submarine was’, he asked. No thanks. I don’t. I’d love to go and see her, film her and photograph her by all means, but those days of publishing GPS co-ordinates are long gone. Time was when you’d tell your mates all about it and take a select, few, respectful guests along to marvel at some sunken time capsule of coral-covered heritage, now home to a plethora of wildlife, completely transformed and absorbed by nature. It’s a different story now. Never mind the Thistle, have you seen what’s happened to the Rosy! If news gets out nowadays, before you know it there’ll be boatloads of bounty hunters pillaging the wreck and within a season she’ll be reduced to a carcass. Then, when it’s all over, they’ll come along and install moorings. Much better to record, document and protect such a legacy from the Bring Spanner And Crowbar brigade for as long as possible. Things just ain’t what they used to be. Or am I just becoming a grumpy old man ?