Actually I set out to film the Trigger fishes that Huba Buba commented to be at the reef. Supposing he meant 'The Donkey', the rocky triangle at the corner of the cliffs that extend from the large parking place and that submerges at high tide.

The wind had been off-shore for over a week, so I expected the water to be even clearer than last Friday. There was quite a swell and the massive wall of adrift seaweed was nearly swiping me off my entangled legs. Oftentimes when you have conquered the sludge the seabed becomes clear enough to evade stumble stones and toe wrenches, but the water retained a dishwater quality that gave little more than zero viz. So I dropped into the shallow and swam away from the murk until I could just see enough to get my feet into the monofin.

The water in the harbour had been fairly placid, but soon gusts of wind blew across the swell, creating the aquatic equivalent of trotting through long grass, uphill. This is where my dorsal fin would have come in handy, if only it was on my back instead of in Willem's stairwell. And I knew this was going to be a character ride.

As I could hardly see the bottom I had to continually adjust my course and the abundant lace weed at the fringe didn't make that any easier. At the drop I followed the edge as well as I could see it. The water slowly gained in clearness but the viz did not extend a meter and a half. At the Donkey the waves were breaking upon the edge of the reef, resulting in micro-bubbled, blind water. When a wave hits a rock wall and washes back you have little to fear if you can see bottom. But when it rolls over a brink you can be grated across that reef, as a helpless play ball of the elements. So there one has to navigate with brinkmanship.

I had the impression that a bit of current was moving me away from the shoreline so I took a tighter course along it. I wasn't too worried about a current. I could always turn around and use it to my advantage. Slowly I got closer to the rocky outline. Any time now I could meet the Donkey's edge. But I didn't and I wondered why. Then I looked behind me. Crab Island was completely out of sight and I realised I had swum around the Donkey way back and now was close to the table rock upon which massive ocean waves heaved themselves to next be dispersed into a roundabout waterfall.

I heard whistling and yelling and saw a highly strung fisherman  gesticulating at me. Was it his line he was worried about, or could it be me? As water mountains were creeping up and seething back from the rock face there was no window to go into the matter. I turned around and swam back as close along the rocks as the white water allowed me to.

My mother-in-law used to say, 'to get there is peanuts, but to return…', while letting her finger slide down her nose and back let it get stuck under the base. I could kick myself for making such an elephantoid misnav. But I'd better kick the water instead. So there was no return-current. I had done a pure distance and now had to go back all the way I'd come. Told you it was a character ride.

So when I finally got back to my access point the tide had rolled in big time and so were the waves. No way I would get out in that turmoil. Of course there was the slipway, but my shoes were at the access and the walk back would cost me my precious 3 mil neoprene socks. I saw the beach to be much more in the wind shade and stumbled across the rock barrier. Stone by stone I made it back to my shoes, which were about to be sucked into the milling weed whirls. At least I could save my second life water shoes.

Dusty was nowhere in sight. Must be her intelligence warding her off. I could use some of that, too.