MONTY: Recordbreaking ironing

At last, there is a hint of spring in the air, and like a tired old warhorse that whiffs a hint of cordite, so my body begins to respond to the prospect of regular diving once again. I find myself browsing kit catalogues on the loo, idly stroking the hem of my drysuit as it hangs in the shed, and generally gearing my body for battle.

It’s not as if the winter has been a complete waste, though. There have been a few cracking winter dives around, I’ve been on a very nice liveaboard trip, and even had the opportunity to wrestle the Ashes away from Australia. The latter is significant for any Englishman of course, a rare moment when we can give our antipodean friends the whupping they so richly deserve.

As with so many things in my life, this opportunity did not arise because of my own efforts; rather, it was the kind invitation of others. The inimitable Morag Ward from the Yorkshire Divers internet forum got in touch. And then got in touch again. And again. Then threatened to key my car and burn my house down if I didn’t come along.

After a close member of my family was taken hostage and then returned to me one finger at a time, I decided that I’d probably pop along. For those of you not familiar with the Yorkshire Divers forum, it’s the home of rational, measured debate about all matters pertaining to diving. There is one persistent, scurrilous rumour that abounds on the forums which is unfounded – but as I said to my special friend Dave the other day, I do my best to ignore it. Pillow talk: it’s so comforting.

Anyway, what the good folk at Yorkshire Divers had organised was a mass underwater ironing event. This was to be a world-record attempt at the National Diving and Activity Centre at Chepstow, and involved 128 divers from the length and breadth of Britain who would all be required to iron underwater simultaneously for at least ten minutes.

Getting 128 divers in the water at one time is a serious logistical challenge. Morag and her team charged around like demented collies, nipping at various divers’ heels and herding the entire bovine mass down to the edge of the lake prior to the first splash in. The temperature was frigid, the visibility was poor, and the concept was barking mad. There were some serious bits of dive kit on show, with rebreathers abounding and twin-sets to the fore – a clanking, hissing, lumpen army massed prior to the battle to deprive the Aussies of the true Ashes (there, is apparently, another Ashes involving cricket, but that is widely regarded as a fairly second-division event).

The descent was entertaining when the realisation dawned that ironing boards have some fairly brisk hydrodynamic qualities when underwater, with several divers inadvertently surfing off into the gloom. The scene was remarkably well ordered, although there was a brief moment of crisis when the men involved realised that it wasn’t actually enough just to get to their designated area, they then had to actually put their ironing boards up. Many furrowed brows could be seen by divers sporting the ultimate in hi-tech rebreather gear as they wrestled with legs and clips, but then the training kicked in, the boards were up, and everyone was ironing as though their very lives depended on it.

The record was duly smashed out of sight and the crew at Yorkshire Divers raised more than ten grand for the RNLI. It was a stirring sight to witness, and was accompanied by a rousing thought. We divers number nearly three quarters of a million in the UK, and what this record illustrates vividly is that when mobilised, and when we put our minds to something, we are a force to be reckoned with. Every campaigner for Marine Nature Reserves and every charity trying to stop shark finning would have been heartened to see the squelching mass huffing triumphantly back up the hill to the car park. Divers tend to be fairly robust, single-minded individuals, but when we all sing from the same song sheet, we can change legislation, alter opinion, and iron underwater better than anyone else on Earth.