I began snorkelling when I entered my teens, back in the early 1960s. In the 1970s, I spent my summers away from the UK in Mediterranean seaside resorts, where I had ample opportunity to combine a little beach snorkelling with some cultural sightseeing.
A few years ago I decided to resume snorkelling for some much-needed exercise. This time the venue would be the coast of the North East of England where I live. I went window-shopping at my local dive store to find out what modern snorkelling gear was like. I hated every mask, fin and snorkel I saw, not only the "space-age" designs but also the oil-derived synthetics everything appeared to be made from. So I decided to do some online research to find out whether the 1960s-style sub-aqua gear I grew up with was still around. Indeed it was, but it wasn't available locally. Using various online retailers and eBay, I eventually purchased a pair of black full-foot fins, a blue-skirted oval mask and a simple J-shaped snorkel. I completed the outfit with a reproduction 1950s-style valve-less two-piece drysuit.
I drove to the coast around 5.30 one summer weekend morning and donned my gear on the sandy beach near the water's edge. It was still quite dark and the beach was deserted except for one dog walker. The sea itself was calm and I strode into the waves until I reached chest-level. As I began to swim, the drysuit kept the chill at bay, but the air inside made it difficult to do anything but float on the water. I soon mastered the art of venting the suit using the seal around the face and the wrists. The suit proved ideal for swimming, providing both warmth and flexibility. In the past, I have found wetuits very movement-constricting.
I spent about half an hour snorkelling this way, enjoying the tranquillity and the view of the sun slowly rising over the horizon. I then glanced beachwards and spotted two uniformed policemen standing at the water's edge. They were waving at me. Many thoughts went through my head. Had I infringed some local law? I began trudging towards the shore, mask and snorkel on my forehead Mike Nelson-style, and removed my fins before I reached the sand. "Is anything the matter?" I asked the first policeman. "We were just wondering what you were doing" said his partner. "When we spotted a black figure in the sea, we thought you could have been a North Korean spy or perhaps somebody trying to commit suicide. There's nothing to see under the water hereabouts, which made us suspicious". I explained how my snorkelling expedition was only designed to give me a little exercise and bring back some childhood memories, which seemed to satisfy them and they walked away.
So snorkelling can arouse the suspicions of the guardians of the law. Does that qualify as one of the dangers of snorkelling? At the time I did think so. I've been back to my favourite stretch of beach many times since then, once losing a fin, another time losing my blue-skirted mask and J-shaped snorkel irretrievably to the waves. How this happened is a tale for another occasion. I've since replaced the losses, like with like, by scouring eBay and online retailers abroad. Vintage snorkelling gear is perfect for the gentle underwater swimming I currently enjoy and nothing will persuade me otherwise!