My memories of television in the 70’s are a mixed bag. Eurovision, Morecombe and Wise, Doctor Who and Star Trek all spring immediately to mind, along with those curious programme intermissions about a piston engine and a strange exhibition featuring odd noises and lots of lights.
The latter, I later discovered, was filmed at the Philips hands-on science exhibition at Evoluon, in Eindhoven, the Netherlands. I’ve been there and literally got the tee-shirt (although it’s a bit small now; I was about 8 at the time).
Another memorable highlight of early 70’s viewing were the underwater adventures of Jacques Cousteau. I watched enthralled as our small screen TV took me, in glorious black and white, into a mysterious world beneath the waves.
I was a little too young to appreciate the Apollo missions to the moon. I have dim recollections of joining my father for the occasional early morning viewing of something to do with rockets and space travel. But these giant leaps for mankind did not leave me with any enduring memories.
No, it was Monsieur Cousteau who grabbed my attention back then. He was also exploring the unknown but with the advantage that it was much more exciting visually. I remember watching as wetsuited figures with a tank of air strapped to their backs poked around in reefs and on the seabed. They encountered exotic creatures, natural wonders and, another fascination of mine, historic wrecks.
Of course they made it look easy. There was no talk of dive tables, pressure changes, safety checks or dive planning. At least, if there was I don’t remember it. My recollection is that scuba diving was about going places and seeing things that most ordinary people would never go to or see.
My drive to follow in Cousteau’s footsteps was never strong enough for me to do much about it. At University I dabbled in pot-holing, which doesn’t involve much water but was another experience that I wanted to collect. I don’t recall ever actively choosing not to pursue scuba diving – it simply remained on my ‘to do one day’ list, along with golf and visiting Peru.
Last year one of my daughters acquired a game for the Wii which is effectively a scuba diving simulation although, along with Cousteau, it overlooks all the technical issues associated with the sport. Inspired, she booked herself onto a diving course with the local sub aqua club. I went to watch her first dive, in 1.25 metres of chlorinated water at the local pool, and that was enough to whet my appetite.
I was faced with the prospect of accompanying her to more dives as a spectator, in the pool and later in open water. The alternative was to literally take the plunge (poor pun intended) and join her. When the other four on the course dropped out after the first lesson I decided that I’d keep her company.
But I know who’s really to blame for getting me into scuba gear - the late Monsieur Jacques Cousteau.
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