We set out early with our new friend Ahmed to board the boat which would take us to the Mnembe Atol snorkelling for the day. Having picked up an assortment of mismatched fins, masks and snorkels we waded out to the wooden dhow, boarded ungracefully, and settled in the bow of the bobbing ship. Our fellow passengers were an interesting pic 'n mix of society and the 90 minute stomach churning passage to the east coast gave us ample opportunity to perform a complete character assassination on all of them.

The misfitting group of patchily facial haired ladsoc try hards, lead by the spitting image of Alan from the hangover, were on the beers immediately, looking at everyone else through squinty rodential eyes for regular confirmation of just how incredibly testosterone pumped they were, and surprised that we hadn't thought to bring a six pack of warm fizzy lager which undoubtably tasted like p1ss. Fortunately we sat mercifully downwind of an ageing, and rather desperate, Miss Gap-Yah as she and her freckle ginger munchkin chain smoked their way through a entire packet of cigarettes in between loud, dramatic and rambling pointless sentences which failed to come to any sort of a conclusion before they were enveloped in another cloud of smoke.

Our large triangular bedsheet of a sail eventually brought the Atol into view and after nearly 2 hours at sea we were swimming around in the warm water, spotting the highlights amongst the myriad of fish which swarmed around the coral just metres below us. It took several salty reminders that the snorkel was not a regulator but after a very satisfactory tour of the coral playground we returned to the boat and motored over to a beach on the mainland for a lunch of rice, tuna and everybody's favourite safari sauce. The beach was idyllic and deserted but the tide was ebbing and so we made the return journey to the awaiting boat soon after lunch, dancing around the lumps of coral which littered the shallows as the waves got higher and higher up our bodies.

Hattie turned an odd shade of green on the return leg which even with the wind behind us was only slightly quicker than the upwind journey had been and the rolling swell did nothing to improve our speed or Hattie's colour.

When we finally landed back in Nungwi we spent the afternoon recuperating on the beach and a followed our standard evening protocol of beer, volleyball and seafood.