The first travel experience that I almost backed out of

The first travel experience that I almost backed out of

I like to think of myself as a bit of an adrenaline junkie, but when I put myself in water, all my bravery dissipates. I wasn't a good swimmer as a child. Fortnightly lessons for a year in elementary school weren't enough for me to find my fins. As an adult I have improved slightly, but I never stray far from shore.

With this in mind, when Peter suggested booking our first dive, I hesitantly agreed. The idea gave me butterflies in my stomach, a rare feeling for someone who never gets nervous. Since none of us had dived before, we were warned that the maximum depth we could go was 12 meters. I looked 12 meters into the distance - that would be deep enough for me.

Our instructor Paul met with us the day before and explained the basics: how to equalize the pressure in our ears, how to equalize the air in our masks, how to get water out if it got into our masks. He explained to us what to do if we coughed or even vomited. "Just vomit into the tube. That's what it's designed for."

“I’ll try not to,” I joked as butterflies danced away. I explained that I had never free dived before and my body couldn't get enough momentum. Paul told me that I would have weights to pull me down. Not quite as reassuring as I had hoped.

The day came and we set off on The Full Boar, Paul's little white motorboat. We sailed for a while until we reached the site of the sunken SS Coolidge. Since the wreck was deeper than 12 meters, we would only snorkel in that area before moving to another spot. I had snorkeled before so was a little more confident, although Paul assured me that snorkeling was actually more difficult than diving.

Mask in hand, I went into the water and put the mask on. I hesitantly took it off again. “Just put your face in the water,” Paul said from the boat. “I'll do it when I'm ready,” I answered firmly and swam away from the boat so as not to embarrass myself in front of him. After a while I put the mask back on and lowered my head under the water.

Immediately I could feel water in my mask, so I shot back to take it off. This happened three or four times until I finally found my groove. This time I still kept the breathing tube above water to make sure it didn't submerge and stayed submerged for a few long minutes. I practiced regulating my breathing and staying calm.

“All you have to do is breathe in and out slowly,” Paul had said, and so I breathed. In and out and trying to stay calm. Half an hour later it was time to go to the dive site. I felt my stomach knot.

When I saw other divers jumping backwards into the water, my eyes widened in concern. “Don’t worry,” Paul said. "You don't have to do that. We'll put the gear on you in the water." “Won’t it be hard?” “No, it will be in the water, so it will be weightless.” At this point Peter patted my arm. “Just think of it like your backpack,” he said. “My backpack weighs 13 kilograms.” He paused. "You're right. I'm sorry. That's not reassuring at all, is it?"

I got into the water, strapped on my gear, and then, with encouragement, plugged in my breathing tube (scuba regulator). It felt strange and unnatural, like I couldn't get enough air. I tried to keep breathing, in and out slowly.

Then it was time for the competency tests that must be completed before a beginner dive. The first was to dive underwater with the regulator pulled out, then locate it by holding my arm back at a right angle and then swinging it over it. Holding my breath, I dove under the water and did it as quickly as possible.

Then came the real test: Dive underwater, take the regulator out for a few seconds, being careful not to drink water, and then put it back in. We submerged and I took out my regulator. Panic gripped me and I started to stutter. I shot across the surface and coughed up the water. For the first time in my life, my nerves were boiling over. I looked my Paul in the eyes and said, “I’m not sure I want to do this.”

And I meant it. How was I supposed to survive underwater for 45 minutes? I could barely open my eyes. Paul was surprisingly calm, like some kind of Zen master. "If you don't want to stay lying down, we won't, but just try. It's really not that hard."

Heart racing, I paused indecisively and finally nodded in agreement. We did the test again and I barely passed by pushing the regulator in the moment I took it out. After a few encouraging words, we went under, my hand in Paul's. I focused on breathing, in and out, in and out, slowly. A few meters below, Paul checked to see if I was okay. I gave the okay sign back, not entirely sure it was me.

We followed a rope down a meter or two, balancing ourselves as we went. The pressure in my ears was intense but manageable. At five meters we paused to adjust to the pressure change. It gave me time to collect myself and realize that I was breathing easily and it was actually easier than snorkeling. Paul checked again that I was okay. This time when I signaled back, I believe I was telling the truth. We went deeper, another five meters, a break and then finally to the bottom.

It was overwhelming, surreal, amazing - like you were on another planet. Paul stayed close by and made sure I was comfortable. Sometimes when I started floating and couldn't control my body, he would reach up to pull me back down, checking to see if I could breathe and adjusting my buoyancy. I reached my comfort zone and was soon joking around with Peter, who was nearby but swimming more independently.

We spent a while examining corals, fish and wreckage - and yes, we actually found Nemo. After about half an hour it was time to get up again. As we broke the surface I screamed in triumphant laughter.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Paul asked. Still laughing, I hugged him. “Thanks for not letting me pinch myself.”

He was right: It wasn't that hard, but "hard" is relative - I'll remember that the next time I'm tempted to shake someone's fear of heights or flying. Overcoming a fear, no matter how trivial, takes courage and I'm glad Paul had enough for me that day.

Back on the boat, Peter turned to me with a wry smile. “So – should we take our PADI then?” I took a deep breath and leaned back. I'm still thinking about my answer.

How to pass the Open Water Diver course

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– A list of all physical tests >
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