I turned 37 at the weekend. I had a lovely time glamping in a shepherd's hut in Pembrokeshire. Days were spent swimming (in a pool with slides!), exploring villages, eating seafood, walking on beaches etc. but we hadn't spent any time at all in the sea, so on Tuesday my daughter, my girlfriend and I hired wetsuits and boogie boards.

All sounds good you say. What could possibly go wrong?

I like the sea. I like waves. I can't see a thing without glasses on. I wanted bigger waves.

I knew I'd messed up a little when a huge wave hit me going sideways. I started to swim back to shore but I was in a rip tide and couldn't get back in. I'm not a strong swimmer, so 15 minutes later my girlfriend swam out to get me. She wasn't strong enough to get both of us in (I was like a dead weight, still paddling but going nowhere), but did manage to get us to a surfer who helped us get back in. Very scary especially when we both let go of the board following a huge wave.

I even found myself praying for the first time ever, for Poseidon to deliver us safely to his beach, which he did around 30 minutes after I first washed out.

The moral of the story is be careful in the sea and that a near death experience can make even the hardest atheist into a believer of ancient Greek gods.

Praise be to Poseidon and may you all live long prosperous lives.