Of course! For us, one accident happened when we visited our favourite rock pool... it's a man made rock pool with huge boulders placed on two sides to build a wall against the coming tide and those boats that bring a surf that wipe most from their feet. The boulders are huge, sometimes jagged rocks thrown together side by side now securely set. We clamber over them every time we visit such is our delight when we delve into the quieter sea.

Myriad of fish life await us... electric blue fish, pig-faced fish with bulging eyes that race after each other, large school of small eel-like fish that swim like starlings fly in unison across the Belfast sky at dusk, silver, yellow and black striped fish that glisten when rays of sunshine comes through the sea... then there's ones that hang off the boulders, black bodies with green-yellow heads munching their way. Then there's the shy, long pipe-like, seahorse-headed fish gently gliding through the sea deep down...

To our accident... this time we decided to go further out over the boulders because the tide, though on the turn, we'd be safe and see more. Stepping out into the sea is harder so we'd need to feel our way mostly by our feet as it's hard to see the different depths. I always wear rock shoes. Though gung-ho joe doesn't! So he feels his way through the boulders heel-first... this time onto a sea urchin with spikes at the ready. Too late. Even with the thickness of his heel they penetrate and take root. Excruciating pain. So much so as he glides into the water, he thinks his foot will be covered in blood. Swims to where I am. Expresses concern. Lifts his foot for me to view. No blood. From his face I know something is wrong. Though he swims around regardless not wanting to worry me but after a while, he goes in... not like him. I swim over to see what's wrong.

He's quiet holding his foot. It can only mean it's not good. I ask can I have a look - there's five spikes embedded but not perturbing. It needs something sharp to dig them out. I hunt around my rucksack and only have a nail file. Though he tries to 'shave' them, it's no good.

Remember we're on the top of ragged rocks. No way to get back to shore easily. I tell him I'll let him swim and I'll take the rucksacks. But he's not having it. Oh hum!!!

We wait a half an hour hoping the pain will ease. Nope! The tides coming in. These particular rocks will be submerged soon. I hear the roar of the sea behind me. Time to make a decision. We're packing up. All ready I check if he can stand and walk. I see him trying to tiptoe. He's in pain. We gingerly step through the boulders. I find it tough at the best of times but now unnerved by how he must be feeling.

I stop halfway to the shore at our normal spot and mesmerised by the sea. My gentleman urges me to go in - he'll be OK. I do for a short while and I'm met with my old favourites and a new one... a sea slug that's camouflaged against the sea weed bed... magical! What pleasure!

On shore we've assessed our plan of action. Just like him, he will do some minor surgery with a razor, newly bought scissors, tweezers and antiseptic spray. We get back to the apartment. I leave him to it. Though I google "how to remove spines from a sea urchin". We discuss the actions that aren't that different from what we decided to do.

Before he puts his heel into *very hot* water after the "surgery", I see his heel is badly cut up as he's poked his way into it to remove the spikes. The hot water is supposed to help the body dispel the rest of the spikes that can't be reached.

Boy, is he a brave man?

I'd have just gone to the local pharmacist or hospital and claimed any expense incurred from my insurance.

Thank God for my rock shoes, Amen!

Note: eight weeks later the heel has finally dispelled the last of the spikes. Lesson to us all... wear rock shoes in unfamiliar waters!

p.s. did he bring his new rock shoes to Tenerife the following year? No, takes too much room in his rucksack but... he was extra careful going into the water!