WHEN I was around eight (I am now aged 67), I fell off the cliffs at Llangennith. The island was called Burry Holmes.

Three friends and myself were collecting seagulls' eggs when some of the rocks gave way, and I fell around 100 feet and landed on some rocks close to the water. I was bleeding a lot and had broken bones.

My pal Brian Allen was able to climb down.

The tide was coming in fast, and if I didn't climb back up, I would have drowned due to my injuries — a broken arm, broken toes and a fractured skull.

With his help, I was able to climb all the way up.

The ambulance didn't get to me for six hours until after the tide went out.

I was taken to Morriston Hospital. I don't remember much about the accident, only what was later told to me.

I am now living in Canada, and when I tell my children about it, they don't believe me.

The South Wales Evening Post reported on this.

The headline was "Luckiest boy in South Wales".

Myron Fisher

Maywood Park Crescent, Scarborough, Ontario, Canada