The following question appeared on this years Advanced Instructor theory paper. You are given three divers (of different grades) with three suits and stab jackets, four DV's but no cylinders and only two weight belts. Organise dives for all. Oh, by the way, you are on a small foreign island and none of you speak the lingo.

What actually happened was that Chris and I went to visit Fred over in Athens. As well as Fred and Kay being kind enough to put us up, Fred offered to take us to some of the local dive sites. The first dive was relatively uneventful. We called into the Aegean Dive Centre where Fred introduced us to Ilse, the local Instructor. We quickly collected tanks and weight belts and drove to the dive site at Gliffada.

Perhaps the Greek attitude to driving is summed up by a newspaper report while we were in Athens. The Greeks are introducing a speed limit of 60 km/h for reversing on the motorway.

When we got to the dive site, we found a sheltered rocky inlet. The water at 22 degrees was surprisingly cold in a wet suit (perhaps I'm soft since Chris and Fred had no problem). A quick check of buoyancy and we were off. The viz was about 15 metres, poor by Greek standards. A curious feature of the dive was a well, about 18 metres deep and about three metres across. This brought the total depth from 12 to 30 metres. A gentle current down the well became quite fierce as it was forced into a small hole at the bottom and the local dive shop told us that several divers had been lost down there. There is now a mesh grill at the bottom of the well to stop you getting swept further.

Back at the dive shop, we filled in our log books and drank cold beer from Illse's fridge. As the afternoon drew to a close, Illse locked the shop and drove off, asking us to lock the gate as we left.

We then took a few days off to go sightseeing. This is where we found one or two other features of the Greek highway code. One is "A red traffic light means proceed with caution since there is probably someone coming the other way but go for it anyway". We were also surprised by the number of motorcyclists carrying their helmets. Later Fred told us that Greek law says you must carry a helmet so that’s what they do. The exception is when it is cold or raining when they put the helmet on to keep warm!

On the Saturday we set off for a days hard boat diving. By this time we were used to the laid back attitude of the Greeks so we were not too surprised by the boat. This belonged to a guy who worked as a marine engineer and also liked a bit of sport diving. He was quite happy to take us out to Mouse Island and even let cold divers (i.e. me) use his living space as a changing room. The marshalling was non-existent, no dive sheets etc. The only paperwork was a list of divers and qualifications lodged with the port police, not for safety but to make sure we didn't steal any antiquities or artefacts.

Our last dive was combined with a two day excursion past the Corinth Canal. We found our way to a dive shop which Fred knew of. The only problem was that it was closed! Looking at the RIB parked in the road outside, which looked like it had been a tender for the Ark, we decided to try another dive shop which Fred had used before. It was getting dark as we bumped down a dirt track towards a combined hotel and dive school. This was obviously not going to be our day. Despite the water temperature of 22 degrees, both school and hotel had closed for the winter. As we were about to drive off, a young couple gave us the cryptic advice "ask at the jewellery shop"

We spent the night in a hotel in the nearest town. Chris and I had forgotten that Greek hotels do not include breakfast so we were surprised when Fred knocked on our door in the morning. He had set up a picnic table on his balcony and a kettle on a spirit stove in the bathroom.

After breakfast we set out to look for the jewellers shop. When we found it, it looked very posh and as we were deciding whether to go in or not, a voice behind us said "you want to dive?" It turned out that the owner of the shop was a diver himself and had seen our car full of gear. He took us to the local dive school and unlocked the door. The school was small, a blackboard, a few tanks and a compressor plugged into a 13A socket. He quickly sorted out three tanks and a weightbelt, gave us an SMB and asked where we would like to dive. After pointing out a likely spot on a small scale map of Greece, he waved us off, asking for no money or identification and not even knowing our names.

We followed his directions and turned left at the second green skip. Imagine the road to the Bluey. Now imagine that those are the good bits of a road six miles long. Now add a few hairpin bends and tilt the whole lot at forty-five degrees. About half way down Fred gave in (I would have given up after the first few hundred yards) and said he would find us a different dive site.

Fred's dive site was much better. A flat although rocky shore led to calm water. Dodging the jellyfish we swam about for over an hour (getting through two films between us). We got out and had tea and sandwiches in the sunshine before returning to the dive shop. Despite being two hours late, the owner was not at all worried as he took the gear, stamped our logbooks and worked out what we owed him. As we left, he asked if we had found the dive site. When we told him where we had dived, he went very quiet and advised us not to tell anyone. Apparently if we had been caught, we would have been arrested on quite serious charges. The Greeks take the protection of their antiquities very seriously.

I enjoyed Greek diving but the best part was undoubtedly the trust and lack of fuss (or admin.) shown by the locals. Thanks again to Fred and Kay for putting up with us for ten days and for all the chauffeuring they did during our stay.