Australia

As I powered the boat further in towards them, I saw a look on Bjorn's face that I will never forget - that of complete shock and panic, he was swimming in a pool of blood.

SHARK ATTACK was the first thing that sprung to mind, as we had seen several sharks the day before at the exact same spot. As he clambered into the boat, dripping with blood, I soon discovered what had happened:

When we dive, we tend to use what is called a tow line. This is attached to the end of the gun and trails an old water bottle behind it, floating on the surface, to ensure that when you shoot a fish, and want to let go of the gun to deal with it, you don't lose the gun. What had in fact happened was just before that set had come through, Bjorn had been chasing a fish with his finger on the trigger. Once the set was over him, now a full breaking wave, he had to dive under it to avoid getting washed back onto the exposed reef.

However having made it through the first, whilst he was diving through the second, his tag line pulled unexpectedly in the surf, pulling his arm back and up to where his gun was pointing down towards his foot and the tug on the line caused him to clench his hand tightly on the gun, which in turn pulled the trigger!

The spear, with 300 lbs worth of pressure had gone clean through his foot, in just below the ankle and out the other side!! Thankfully he had in the whole shock of the accident managed to pull the spear out without causing any more damage, as we wrapped a t-shirt tightly around his foot to stop the bleeding. The half hour boat trip back to the camp seemed painfully long, especially in the knowledge that civilisation and any kind of medical care was still some 3 hours away! Fortunately the bleeding stopped and with the help of a nurse who happened to be staying at the camp, we managed to clean up the wound enough for him to make the bumpy ride to safety.

The feeling on the camp was one of disbelief that such a freak accident could occur, as we contemplated how bad it could have been and indeed how bad it could still be. However, the trip must go on…

The days that followed saw the reappearance of the wind and a solid swell that gave us some excellent conditions, despite the tides proving somewhat against us (low tide coinciding perfectly with the windy period - not the ideal combination). I decided that my ankle was not going to get any better just sitting there in the desert, but needed some proper attention before it would be right again. Therefore with this in mind, I strapped it up as best I could to make the most out of my last few days and at least get some sailing in this magical place before heading back to the physiotherapists and some serious rehabilitation.