June Newsletter

We’ve had an overwhelmingly positive response from the May newsletter, which is always good, as it was slightly different to the previous ones.  With all of you crawling out of the woodwork, I was surprised to see we actually have a readership of more than 5. How much more I am not at liberty to say or in a condition to hope for.

To be honest, there were negative responses as well.  Exactly two. Obviously the definition of “sense of humour” and “tongue in cheek” is a very subjective one to some.

Just to clarify, I was the unscrupulous author of that newsletter, not Matthew, so he is not to blame. I am of course talking – or should I say writing – to the 2 of you who didn’t like it. I actually don’t know why I am writing this, as after your last unpleasant experience, you won’t even begin to read the newsletter.  If you are reading this sentence right now, then you can colour me confused. What colour that would be, is up to you.

One thing I do realize is that our one overseas reader – yes I am making a huge assumption that the official reader count is now 6 – might not understand some of the South African humour, and for that I have no answer.

Ok, real-time issues: What a wasted month for the diving industry on the Shoal. Never has so many lost out on so much in such a short time. No, no rip off from Winston Churchill.

 The whole of Umkomaas was like a ghost town. Not saying there are ghosts here, although some of the local residents are far advanced enough in years to qualify. And buildings too, for that matter. But I digress.  Those of you that managed to rip yourselves away from your desks will agree.  Not that I am digressing, but about the conditions. Probably one of the best months in years as far as conditions went. We’ve had two weeks straight of no wind (at writing of this, going on week three), flat, glassy sea, and at least 15-20m visibility. Current on a couple of days mid month a bit strong, but mostly light and made for great diving. Temperature still high for this time of year, 22-24 degrees Celsius.

Not boding too well for the Sardine Run at this stage. They need colder water. Which begs the question: Why on earth do they call it the Sardine ‘Run’? How do you run if you have no legs (excluding the recent news headliner athlete off course) AND how do you run on water?? Bit of a silly name for it. Sardine Swim surely sounds better. Wow, all that alliteration in one sentence would have made my English teacher proud. Pity its 30 years too late. And she said I’ll never get it right.. pfft.  I guess we should then call the upcoming Comrades marathon this weekend a “Human Run” to keep it uniform. Sounds like Cuban Rum. Wow, I can talk nonsense.

You can tell my train of thought hasn’t left the station. I feel like I have to tell you something of importance but it is not happening. Maybe next month I’ll remember. Maybe I’m part of the Umkomaas Ghosts already. Residents, not buildings.
Enjoy our Oceans!