It was freezing cold, as I was packing up on the beach, ready for the 200ft trek back to the top. I waited for a while watching Greg making his final approach. A bit close to the groin I thought …and so did Greg. He had misjudged his approach and it was too late to do anything about it. Hit the groin or take a dip, not much of a choice but the dip won.
Not too far out and in about a foot or two of water Greg made a surprising good landing. As you might imagine I was laughing my head off and I could also hear the others hooting and laughing from the top of the cliff. We were an unsympathetic lot.
I walked to the edge of the sea and asked if it was cold, for some unknown reason Greg did not find this funny. The next instance nothing seemed funny as a wave crashed over Greg before he could unclip. The A frame collapsed and Greg was pinned down on one knee unable to move.
Why me, I thought, as I waded in to help. As I got to Greg he unclipped just as another wave rolled over the glider. We tried to drag it back to the beach but with every wave bits of the glider broke off and when we finally did get it beached there was nothing recognisable left.
Over the years I have hinted that I was due a big reward for saving his life, but he just insists that he had the situation under control and that he had had enough of that glider anyway!