No time to dive

For most the cost of an unreliable watch is being late; for a few it could be life or death

MIKE WELHAM'S CV reads like something by Ian Fleming. He joined the Royal Marines in 1963, specialised in canoeing, parachuting and combat diving, and went on to become a member of 21 SAS and Naval Gunfire Support 95 Commando RAR. Yet there's no sense of brag or bravado when you talk to him. He's good company, tells great stories and possesses the understated air of people who've been there, done that and quite probably blown up the T-shirt factory.

Given his background, I at least expected our interview to be in a darkened room somewhere and involve bright lights. In fact, we chatted with Mike sitting at his dining room table with some reassuringly normal flowery curtains behind him. It's all quite a contrast to his old day job that covered everything from mining enemy shipping to artillery spotting and beach reconnaissance, all of which depended on time, timing and his watch, as well as quite unnatural courage.