Wetsuit misadventures…

A friend of mine has just bought a new diving wetsuit online. She thought it looked a little small but decided to try it on to check it out.

She was away, alone, at her holiday home a couple of hours away from all her friends.

So she took off all her clothes, put the wetsuit on, doing the laying down thing that you do when your jeans are a bit tight, to pull up the zip. She was in!!

All was well until she decided she wanted to take it off… She tried for half an hour, getting hotter and more exhausted. Try as she might she couldn’t get the wetsuit off her shoulders.

So with no other options she decided to go to the neighbors and ask for assistance. She had a few to choose from, but decided to go for the elderly couple over the fence.

She hobbles over – unable to bend her knees or elbows, Knock knock on the door. An older man answers the door.
“Ummm I need some assistance… Do you think your wife might be able to help me get out of this wetsuit?”
Goodness only knows what must have been running through his head, however he said
“Yes certainly, however I am not sure that she will be much help…”

So my friend finds herself in a bathroom with this mans wife, when she realizes that the lady has dementia! This poor lady thinks that Vic is a cleaning lady!

“How are you getting on in there?” The man asks from the hallway.

“Ummm not terribly well actually!” My friend answers.

So he comes in to help. He manages to get her shoulders free but then carries on even further… My friend then finds herself standing topless in a bathroom with two elderly strangers!

Problem solved!

One can only begin to imagine what the old boy told his friends at the bowling club that night!!


17 thoughts on “Wetsuit misadventures…

  1. Loved the blog, one of your best yet but then again I have a strange sense of humour. I am sure there is a moral in this story but it is eluding me at the moment.
    I know myself I was trying to repair the anchor solenoid and got stuck around the bow thruster under the forward bunk. I was there for three hours before anyone turned up and pulled me out.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This puts me in mind of my first venture into a wetsuit. It was the last day of a lecture tour in Western Australia. I had spoken at the University of Perth and they kindly gave me a rather nice, although quite rich lunch.
    ‘We have organised a special treat to round off your tour’ the organiser said and they took me down to the Swan River and told me that they were going to take me water skiing. I was beginning to feel the effects of the lunch but, ready to try anything once, I agreed. They zipped me up into a wetsuit. It felt very odd and cumbersome (this was 35 years ago and I expect they are a little more flexible now) and I clambered into the boat. I was beginning to wonder if I had eaten something that didn’t agree with me, but, not wanting to be an ungrateful guest, I put it to the back of my mind.

    The first half an hour was OK. We zipped around on the water, with the guy in charge showing off, going faster and faster and turning in ever-tighter circles – I think he sensed that I was feeling a little queasy and some Aussies can never pass up an opportunity to get show the Limeys what real men are made of.

    I was beginning to feel more than a little ill, but the time arrived when it was my turn to get in the water and have my first water-skiing lesson. Full of foolish bravado, I took up the challenge, mainly because I was not going to let the Aussie alpha-male defeat me. It was not a wise decision.

    I had not appreciated that, when water skiing, one’s body has to counter two opposing forces – the pull of the boat on one’s arms and the drag of the water on one’s feet. These two forces meet in the middle of one’s body, which in my case, was feeling singularly unable to cope. I think it was then that I fully realised how difficult it would be to get out of a wetsuit in a hurry in the middle of the beautiful Swan River. I began to pray that if my digestive system decided to eject the very nice lunch, it would do so through my mouth rather than the other way.

    I am happy to say that I managed to survive but I have never since gone anywhere near wearing a wetsuit.


    Liked by 1 person

  3. I enjoyed that story.!! Maybe I should claim dementia and use that on any unsuspecting young ladies, knocking around the marina, hehee. It reminds me of the days, when dinghy sailing. I’d proudly bought myself and crew matching wetsuits. The sort that zip up the back. Now, I’m damned if I can figure out how to get in and out of those things. I know they supply a little bit of string attached to the zip, but I reckon they deliberately leave it 2 inches short.!! Unless you are some sort of contortionist you have no chance.!!

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