“Merde!” exclaimed Pierre as he slipped effortlessly from Nelson’s Dockyard into dark and fetid waters by the stone quay. As the rain lashed down on this dark and dismal night, I could see nothing but blackness where Pierre had attempted to cross the void and step aboard our chartered yacht, Fil Eau Vent II. I dropped the bags of victuals I myself was carrying and rushed forward to offer assistance. I was dismayed that time seemed to have ground to a halt and that my first attempts at rescue were greeted only by a still and fearful blackness. As I reached towards the waters, I was startled when the first response I detected was the reappearance of four plastic bags full of groceries. Next appeared two hands – still gripping the bags with a fervour well beyond the call of duty. Thankfully, Pierre was unscathed from his total sudden and immersion.