It’s also worth mentioning I knew nothing about rip currents. The Baywatch TV rescues of my childhood obviously hadn’t registered and though I’d had a couple of surf lessons in Newquay a few years before if I’d been told anything about rip currents I’d forgotten it.

Or perhaps it had registered somewhere in my subconscious, for while I didn’t swim parallel to the shore, or even at a 45 degree angle to the current to escape it, I let it carry me out beyond the breakers. And then the surge stopped. I felt great! Nothing was crashing on my head, I’d stopped travelling and I was quite happy treading water until my pal got someone to rescue me, which I knew he would.

His experience wasn’t quite so rosy. He’d spluttered his way to shore and ran around like he was on fire trying to raise the alarm. But it was early. The beach was empty and in those days that section of Legian Beach wasn’t lifeguarded at all. Eventually some way down the beach he found a local with a kayak.

Using gestures and pidgin English he asked the guy to come and get me. But the Balinese guy shook his head saying, “No, your friend be dead.” He begged him to go and look anyway, as the sets were rising so high you couldn’t see beyond them and thankfully he did.

I was still weirdly calm treading water and singing Moby “When it’s cold I’d like to die”.  Even though it wasn’t cold and I didn’t want or even think I was going to die. Then a big burst of yellow canoe came into view, I climbed aboard and we rode a massive wave into the beach, where I found my poor buddy retching with the thought of telling my parents I was gone.

The man who’d rescued me was understandably very angry at us both. He pointed to the red flag with a skull and crossbones which we’d skipped past in our rush to get into the ocean. And we felt like the biggest but luckiest idiots alive.

Our thoughts are with the victims’ friends and families, the RNLI and the community of Mawgan Porth. Donate to the RNLI here