She turned up one day out of nowhere. A slip of a lass, oozing anxiety from every hole in her wetsuit. A near-death experience had left her scared of the ocean, she said. But she was one of those people set on hunting down their fears. Could she swim with us, she asked.

Our swim group has more mental afflictions than a Trump rally. We didn’t need another. But my wife is a kind soul and said she’d chaperone the newcomer into the deep and back. Just stick with me, my wife assured her, and you’ll be OK.

Credit: Robin Cowcher

After the swim, the debutante was high on her own bravery and survival. To have gone out into that world where the monsters in her head lurked, and to have come back alive, was sheer thrill. She became a regular, and it did us all good to see her grow braver and more confident.

Up to a point. It’s simultaneously invigorating and traumatic for a mentor to witness their wry mentee become a manta ray, to blithely surpass them without a backward glance. The newcomer, we’ll call her Sal, got better, faster, calmer and........

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