Now comes the part I've been dreading. Eight people who've barely met, attempting to work as a team and get a complicated job done in minimum time. It'll bring out the worst in anyone, there's always; a faffer, a mini-dictator, a whinger, a micro-manager, a perfectionist. Its bound to be a shitfight. But as the team springs into motion, none of those characters rear their heads. Phil begins rigging the northern anchor, Steve and Bo get to work with a fishing rod trying to cast a line across, Dan abseils onto a low wave platform to retrieve the line when it arrives, Clinton and I get going on the south side anchor, while Simon and Stuart have begun filming. I'm stunned. This is what all those stupid “teamwork seminars” are trying to teach. But you know what? You can't teach this stuff. If your team isn't running smoothly, you have the wrong people. Apparently this weekend, we have the right people.
Within half an hour, we have the ropes looping between the headlands, A-frames made from scaffolding pipe keep everything clear of the abrasive rock. Massive, equalised anchors help assuage the fear of a criminal negligence conviction. Every aspect of the set-up is going more smoothly than I had envisaged. But there are too many tourists about. At first they were just walking by, but as soon as one stops to watch the proceedings, their numbers grow in an exponential fashion. By time we have an audience of fifty, I know its only a matter of time. Many more than one in fifty people enjoy reporting things to the authorities.