We popped in to see our neighbours for lunch. They run the club house at a cable water ski club in Rotherham Country Park, where water skiers are towed around the lake on, as the description suggests, tow-ropes attached to moving cables that circumnavigate part of the lake. I’m not a fan of water activities in the UK – the water is too cold. For many years a group of us camped near to Swanage in Dorset, with the main activity being water skiing in Swanage Bay. No cable pulls for us - the idea was to sort of crouch in the water behind a boat, with the tip of the skis pointing skywards, hanging onto the tow rope, and then, as the boat set off and increased speed, you were supposed to straighten your legs, stand on the skis, and be towed at speed around the bay. I could never stand up on the skis, and so was towed in the foetal position, knees around my ears and spray cascading around me, until I gave up, let go of the rope, and sank gracefully beneath the waves. By now my arms were too tired to haul myself onto the boat, and I had to be dragged over the side like a poorly whale. I had more success on a knee board, being towed at speed while kneeling on what was basically an adapted surfboard. The boat twisted and turned, swinging me wildly sideways over the swell from the boat’s wake, causing me to repeatedly take off from the water and land with a bump, until eventually I was flung off the board, skimming across the water until I came to a halt and once again descended beneath the waves until rescued. Apparently some people call this fun.
The shot is great, but the story is golden. I used to water ski a lot as a kid, and we had a friend who just didn't get it, like you. That was hours of comic relief.
