Why the Leicestershire One should walk free
No doubt many senior divers will have been shocked to hear that a Leicestershire diver was jailed for theft after extracting mis-hit golf balls from the ponds and lakes on a local golf course.
     I don't doubt that the six-month sentence will be overturned on appeal, but as Beachcomber goes to press, that has yet to be decided.
     I recommend that the defence barrister tries to organise the appeal to be held before non-golfing judges. Memories of a bad slice and a big splash must linger long even in legal memories.
     No wonder the verdict and sentence sent a traumatic shiver through the diving world. Whose club has not indulged in "lakeball diving"?
     Indeed, in two previous cases not so long ago, judges have ruled that "lakeballs" are abandoned property and therefore that it is no crime to collect them. No less an authority than the Royal and Ancient Club at St Andrews tells me that there is nothing in the rules of golf covering the ownership of a ball mis-hit into a water hazard.
     Many a branch has funded some of its diving by forays into the murky waters of such places.
     Collections, using net bags taken from special offers of supermarket oranges, were usually carried out at night. Not only was the water so murky that the time made little difference, but the night dives caused no problems to golfers who, by then, had either gone home or were ensconced in something called the 19th hole.
     Even more important, these night dives counted towards many a diving qualification.
     My own club had an arrangement with the local golf club secretary, who paid us a shilling a ball and then sold the thousands we raised to companies which would clean them and sell them back to shops and supermarkets.
     But many clubs didn't want that bother, and golf-ball manufacturers, who make a lot of money out of bad shots, were only too happy to sell their members new ones. Golf clubs turned a blind eye to divers collecting and left them to deal directly with the cleaners.
     Since those early enterprising days, golf-ball diving has boomed all over the world. Diving is accepted as the only sensible way of combing the watery graves of many magnificent drives. In fact, the marketing manager of a thriving UK firm dealing in recovered balls said that divers could expect to earn between £15,000 and £25,000 a year. He added that "at least three of my divers have now given up because they are now petrified of going to prison... the business is in turmoil".
     Golf-ball diving was once an honoured part of diving, raising funds for both clubs and charities. Most golfers should thank divers for cutting their ball bills, and lobby members of the legal profession in their clubs to join the campaign to "Free the Leicestershire One".

Better late than never
Will the new boss of an important diving organisation please explain why he was so late for his first meeting in London? At the same time, he should send me four crisp crunchies for the Diver Lifeboat Fund.
     It is a remarkably small fine when you understand that he was so late that he never got to the meeting at all. Can it be true that he was finally found in Aberdeen?

Anti-angler ammunition
My revelations about the lobster-hunting, axe-swinging diver spotted on the coast of North Wales over Easter have triggered many strange tales from Beachcomber's real-diver readers.
     None of these reports has so far identified him, nor has the Axeman himself yet contacted me with the clutch of crisp crunchies for the Diver Lifeboat Fund, the fine levied on him for his unorthodox method of lobster fishing.
     However, his use of an axe has brought me news of one of Britain's most famous divers, who has kept a very low profile in the diving world in recent years.
     My Northern French Leak has rung to say that an axe is not the only weapon of which divers should beware.
     He was setting up his gear for an afternoon's bream or tench fishing on the banks of one of Brittany's lesser-known rivers - my Breton Leak espouses angling while waiting for the Atlantic to warm up to a pleasant diving temperature - when he was attacked by what he at first thought was a swarm of angry wasps
     It was only when he looked across the river that he discovered that he was under sustained fire from a man with a huge catapult on the opposite bank. A direct hit showed him that dried peas were the ammunition being used in this unwarranted barrage. "Clear off!" yelled his attacker, "this is private, privé, go away!"
     My Leak suddenly recognised his attacker as one of the Missing Greats of British Diving. Only when he called him by name did the pea-storm cease. My Leak discovered that he had unwittingly set out to fish exactly opposite the Long-Lost Great British Diver's hideaway.
     He also learnt that a fierce hatred of rod fishermen had burned for years in the GBD's heart, ever since he had been painfully hooked by some sea angler while diving on a wreck.
     Since then, all rod fishermen get the catapult treatment if they come within range.
     Thanks to my Breton Leak, I now know the address of the GBD, and suggest that he sends me three crisp crunchies for the Lifeboat if he wishes to remain missing. Much against my better nature, I will even accept those dreadful Euros...

Slipping standards
All diving schools should check with great care the pictures of their operations to be used in promotional brochures. If that sounds like stating the obvious, read on...
     My Leaks have been looking particularly carefully at this type of diving publicity lately. One, called Paul, has drawn my attention to brochures about North Wales and one in particular, "produced with support from the European Commission".
     EC money cannot, it seems, buy perfection, because the colour picture of a group of divers shown standing in front of the dive school reveals them as considerably less than perfect.
     In fact, one gentleman is wearing his tank slung so low down his back that it is round his ankles. Not the best plug for diving...

Your identity is safe
Dear "Ashamed of Shepherd's Bush",
     Thank you for sending me three crisp cracklies. I did, in fact, ask for three crisp crunchies. However, as you have shown willing, I will, on this occasion only, accept your reduced offering.
     Be in no doubt, if you transgress again you will be facing a much larger and more serious fine. So for now, I will, as you put it, "refrain from opening the valve on the oxygen tank of publicity".