For 50 years, ever since I was a baby, I’ve been paddling and swimming by the glorious beaches of Pembrokeshire in south-west Wales.
I smugly thought I knew those beaches - and the sea - like the back of my hand. Until, in summer 2022, I came the closest I’ve ever come to dying - through sheer stupidity and crazed risk-taking.
It was a dazzling sunny day. The sea was a bit choppy at Freshwater West, a shimmering stretch of golden sand.
The waves are often high - that’s why the Welsh National Surfing Championships are held here. It’s also why, ever since I was a child, Fresh West, as it’s nicknamed, has been renowned for strong currents and offshore swells.
But I thought I knew better about those dangers, as over the decades I regularly charged into the soaring waves. A few
