So nearly a disasterBMJ 1994; 308 doi: https://doi.org/10.1136/bmj.308.6935.1047 (Published 16 April 1994) Cite this as: BMJ 1994;308:1047
- T R Wiggin
My African houseboy, Linus, and I were due some annual leave, and what better place to go than the number one tourist spot in Cameroon - Kribi- “on-sea.” My sister in law had thoughtfully sent us both new swimming trunks so that we would be well dressed for the beach, and we had been practising for the rigours of the ocean by swimming regularly in the numerous rivers that flow through the hills and grasslands of the north west province, where we work.
Kribi was all we had heard it to be. Hot sun, cool breezes, golden sands, swaying palm trees, tarred roads to get there - a complete difference from the quagmire tracks we were used to. It did not take us long to find our digs and get down to the beach for Linus's first Atlantic swim.
The beach was packed with local people, enjoying cooling off after a busy day at the Kribi harbour and market, making for a tremendous community atmosphere with all the laughing and shouting, splashing and other tomfoolery that goes with the seaside. The sea was perfect: waves just strong enough to ride in up the beach, but never too high, and with no undercurrent to pull you down. Linus stuck to our rule of always keeping the water lower than his chest.
So went the first two days of our holiday. Swimming, relaxing, and investigating the many rock pools; …