underwater with the air tank strapped to my

back. There was someone with me all the way,

but I quite enjoyed drifting around under

water in the pool. It was quiet and peaceful,

any sounds being muffled by the water, and

I was far more relaxed than I expected to be.

You can’t talk underwater with a mouthpiece

in place, so I had to learn the hand signals –

making a circle with your thumb and forefinger

to signal ‘OK’, for example. A thumbs-up signal

doesn’t mean ‘good’ or ‘OK’, it means, ‘I want to

go up,’ and thumbs down means the opposite.

It was all quite logical, and by the time we had

to leave the scuba stage behind I was starting to

enjoy being a diver. Now, however, it was time

for the torture rig.

They say that drowning is a peaceful way to

go, but that doesn’t seem right to my way of

thinking. Panic and fear don’t really sit well

alongside peaceful, do they? The test rig was

designed to teach powerboat drivers their

escape drill should their boat capsize in the

water, and if there’s anything that can take the

edge off panic, it’s good training. These boats,

you see, have enclosed cockpits. From the

outside they look as much like spaceships as

they do boats, with the driver sealed inside his

cockpit. The test rig holds a powerboat cockpit

in a framework that allows it to be tipped

upside down in the water, simulating a crash

where the boat has capsized. If I was to be

allowed in a Formula One boat, I had to be able

to master the evacuation procedure.

I was strapped into the driver’s seat and then,

just like on a Formula One racing car, the

steering wheel was handed to me so that I

could slot it on to the steering column. There

Left: Canopy, steering wheel, harness – that’s all I had

to remember, but it seemed like a lot at the time!

were only three things to remember – pull the

tab to release the canopy, remove the steering

wheel, unclip my safety harness. Canopy.

Steering wheel. Harness. Then I could wriggle

out of the cockpit and make for the surface. The

important thing was not to panic and to let the

boat settle before I started trying to evacuate.

After a couple of dry runs, it was time for a very

wet one. The canopy was put in place, I signalled

that I was good to go, and in the blink of an eye

the whole cockpit was suddenly upside down

and filling with water! It comes as a real shock

when you’re warm and dry one moment and the

next you are upside down, drenched, and water

is shooting up your nose! I stayed calm, followed

the procedure and was out of the cockpit in no

time, with two divers on hand to make sure I

was OK.

Then we did it again, I waited a second for the

cockpit to stop rocking … then canopy, steering

wheel, harness. I groped my way out and the

divers were right there to help. There was great

visibility in the pool, but I had to remember, on

a lake where the silt on the bottom had been

churned up by the powerboat’s propeller, it

would be as dark as night.

The divers, and the blokes training me on the

rig, were from Osprey Powerboat Rescue.

They follow the Formula One boats all over the

world from the UK to South America and the

Far East, and their divers will be at the site of a

crash within seconds to help get the driver out.

They would be on hand when I got behind the

wheel of a real powerboat, and when I took to

the water on the Suzuki. You’ve no idea how

reassuring it was for me to have the Osprey team

on board.

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