I didn't manage to get in the water this weekend.  I should have been going up to Rosehearty on the Moray Firth on Saturday, but getting up at silly o'clock wasn't appealing after a Friday that started with a 6.30 am meeting and ended with a rehearsal that finished at 9.30 pm.  And on Sunday I had a tree to cut down. 

As I walked along the beach at Carnoustie on Sunday, the water was crystal clear.  You could see every frond of seaweed, every tiny shard of shell in  the coarse sand.  I don't know whether the vis at Catterline would have been as good - it's much more silty, and gets stirred up easily by the resident seals - but I did wish I were underwater.

In the end I nearly was: the dogs swam and then shook themselve all over me so I got nearly as wet as I used to before my drysuit was fixed.  And I had a lovely time beachcombing, which is the next best thing to diving.

It'll be a fortnight before I'm back in the water - I'll be in Gloucestershire next weekend, clearing up my late mother's flat.  I do hope the weather holds.  It's about time we had a decent summer, with good vis, no storms, no days blown out due to easterlies, no constant heavy rain...  If I'd started diving last year I might not have seen it through, conditions were so bad so often; it would be great to show last years' trainees what diving's really all about. 

Now that the clocks have gone forward we should be beginning our Wednesday evening dives soon.  I can't wait to get wet again!