When I was in grade 11, I took a Marine Studies class. Why? Because my best friend took the same class. It turned out I actually enjoyed the class as well as the end of year excursion to the Great Barrier Reef. Majority of the trip was to snorkel the reefs and observe the marine wildlife. We had the option of doing a scuba dive and me, bored of looking down from the surface, put my hand up.
.
.
After getting into the water, I held onto a bar just under the water to test my breathing. I remember to this day the sheer terror that took over me when I opened my eyes and only saw blue open water. After that initial freak out, my first dive experience was amazing. Our group was lucky enough to have our dive filmed and when I was later watching it with my family, we watched as I was eaten by a shark puppet the cameraman had on him unbeknownst to us. A little too close to home on that one....
Nevertheless I was hooked.
Years later I moved to Port Vila, Vanuatu, and became very good friends with local dive shop operators. After some initial reluctance, I started my course. My instructors were excellent and prepared me for most situations. There were the inevitable night dives which they were able to get me, semi hyperventating and worried I'd see the real version of the shark puppet, into the black water. I had to hone my compass skills and although the 'testing area' was a narrow stretch of sand in an otherwise coral area, I still seemed to have some troubles navigating. They slightly eased my fears of sea snakes but not first witnessing me unsuccessfully trying to swim backwards as if I'd just seen Jaws. Last but not least they gave me the confidence to be under water and handle myself in less than ideal situations.
Diving in Vanuatu had it's perks. The marine life I saw made me think I was swimming in an aqarium. Dive sites were second to none and it was here that I developed my love for wreck dives. I travelled to a northern island and dived the famed President Coolidge and what a beauty she is. Hitting my max depth and emersing myself in what life was like when she was afloat as a WWII warship is why diving is so special to me. 
While still in Vanuatu, I traveled to Cyprus with a friend not long after being certified, and made sure to take advantage of the diving opportunities in the Mediterranean. I found a company and booked 2 dives. This was my first real diving experience outside of Vanuatu so I was a little nervous. Having arrived at the dive shop, I got suited up and we were off. The site we were diving on was an old ship that had sunk not to far from shore due to the balancing system failing. After only ever diving in tropical waters, hitting the surface was a shock to the system. But soon enough, the eeriness of life under the water soon distracted me. We swan through living quarters finding curtains swaying in the current, viewed trucks/lorries laying to rest on the seabed, picked up bones of the animals who went down with the ship and found lots of new marine life now making the wreck their new home.
When I left Vanuatu I moved to Canada. Scuba diving was not on my list of things to do here simply because of the water temperatures. But before long, I got that itch to get back in the water. I played it smart and waited for the warmth of summer. Well, that didn't end up mattering because after years of tropical diving I was now facing a 10 degree water temperature. To combat this I was loaded up with 2 wet suits, a hood, boots, gloves and on top of that was given a 15kg lead belt. I could hardly walk along the shore to start the dive I was so loaded down. But where there's a will, there's a way.
Unfortunately my first experience turned out to be a true test of my skills and ability. After reaching the buoy we would descend from, it soon became excruciatingly clear I was no longer in Paradise. In the past I was spoilt with visibility up to 20-25m maybe more. As soon as I was under I could just make out movement no more than 2m away. Immediate panic set in when I couldn't see my buddy (who had only ever dived tropical too) after being under for less than a minute. Calming myself down I followed the rope to the surface of the wreck and once again joined my buddy, guide and group. Before long my buddy and I got separated again and again. On the third time I knew I wouldn't find him nor would he find me. After staying put and trying to find bubbles in the water, I decided to stick close to the wreck and continue in the same direction. Within no time I knew he was gone.
The buddy brief given to us for this dive was if you loose your buddy, search for a minute and then surface making appropriate safety stops. Well I did that. Throw into the mix an unknown dive site, visibility getting worse by the second and no buddy (who had our flash light), I drew on all my experience, teachings and metric conversions to remain calm and navigate myself to the surface. After waiting to see if my buddy would surface, I then made my way back to shore with more than half a tank of air. To say the crew were more than a little surprised to see me return, alone and so early, was an understatement. Needless to say at that point I was pissed enough to be done for the day. But I'm not one to give up, so after a lengthy chat with the crew, I switched groups and actually had a pleasant experience the 2nd time round. Cold temp and bad visibility aside, I discovered wildlife I'd not seen before which made my day.
Scuba diving is fun, fascinating and challenging and I love exploring the wonders of the ocean. It's not for everyone so I feel blessed to have been able to share these great experiences with friends and family along the way. Even with the poor conditions I experienced in beautiful Vancouver, this Country Girl (or should I say Country Mermaid) will continue searching the globe for the next exhilarating and magical dive site.
No comments:
Post a Comment