A Whole New World

I’ve always loved the sea, its otherness, vastness and restlessness. One day benign and inviting, the next, turbulent and forbidding. I adore swimming in it, especially stretching straight out towards the horizon, nothing ahead but the endless blue or floating on my back, buoyed by its saltiness, undulating with its tidal breath.

Staffin Bay, Skye

My first tentative forays into snorkelling have opened up the wonders beneath the restless surface. I’m very much a beginner and definitely not a natural, but in between the coughing and sputtering are moments of pure enchantment. Firstly the seaweed – not dowdy heaps on the sand but gorgeous varieties of green, brown and red; vibrant and elegant, swaying gently with the ebb and flow. Even if you see no animal life (highly unlikely) the plant life is worth the effort of mastering the technique and venturing into that alien world. And so is the soundscape, which surrounds you like an audio blanket.

So far, I’ve only seen a crab or two and a good number of different fish – brown, blue, silver, whitish and tawny orange, none of which I can identify. It's mesmerising and humbling to observe creatures wholly at home in this subaquatic landscape that we can only glimpse as visitors. There’s a lot to learn, which is great, as learning is one of the things that gets me out of bed in the morning.

Sadly we live 80 miles from the coast, but both our daughters live by the sea, so hopefully many opportunities for underwater exploration lie ahead.