Following diving rules

Diving was a new experience for Louie and I in our fifties. Our son, Patrick, invited us to take instruction because he wanted to learn to dive, and thought we could spend some time together traveling and diving. We literally jumped into the pool and got certified before he did. I was concerned about Louie on our certification dives in the cold Pacific Ocean off the coast of Long Beach, CA. We had spent a lot of time at Lake Powell riding waverunners with several couples as friends. We tried to splash each other and sometimes carving a fast, sharp turn to spray another couple, ended up with Louie and I in the drink. She used to warn me, "Don't turn us over"! Lake Powell is muddy brown run-off water, and I thought maybe she was a little frightened by the unseen lurking beneath. When we were told to jump off the boat into the bottomless, briny deep, on our first open water dive, there was no hesitation. Louie went in like it was the backyard pool. No big deal.

Later, I voiced my puzzlement to her that I thought she might be apprehensive jumping off a dive boat in the deep, bottomless ocean with no visible shoreline because of her previous concern at Lake Powell. She said, "Nope. I just didn't want to get my hair wet." So much for female trepidation.

There are a lot of crazy people that just like getting wet. I've met a number of them and they're often on crowded dive boats. Diving is somewhat like flying; there are old pilots, and there are bold pilots, but there are no old, bold pilots. There are old divers that go by the book, and bold divers that fly by the seat of their pants, and sometimes suffer the consequences. More than a few famous, experienced divers break a rule and end up in the chamber, or worse. Me, I love the buddy system and I want to come up every time to share the experience and go back and do it again and again. Following the rules in the sea-down-under increases the chance to become an old diver.

life and death experience

My first dive after being certifiable (?) was almost my last. Cozumel, Mexico, has to be one of the most beautiful dive sites in the Caribbean. I walked out on the dock to meet the dive boat. dropped my gear on the deck and asked the Mexican guide, "Who cleaned the pool?" The water was so sparkley clear it shimmered in the sun, like the clean bottom of an aqua painted pool.

Diving in Mexico wasn't like in the U.S.; no dive site orientation and no dawdling to gear up. Palancar Reef, in all its pristine beauty, is a drift dive with a strong current approaching 4 knots at times. They want everyone off the boat at the same time so divers aren't strung out for miles and impossible to pick up at the end. I jumped in not realizing my blood sugar was low and dropping. I have diabetes and it is a "contraindication" to safe diving.

Twenty minutes into the dive I was losing orientation and conciousness. We were at eighty feet and my wife's weights dropped out of her BC. Our dive master, Gregorio, took her hand and led her onward to help her stay down, not knowing I was losing it. Five minutes later, he realized I wasn't with them and came back to find me.

I remember being fascinated by a grand horned coral, almost purple, about two feet high and perfectly formed. The last thing I remember was looking away from the reef and seeing darker, deep blue water. When the dive guide found me, I had gone off the reef, swam down to 109 feet and was sitting on the sand like a sunbather with my head hanging down and my fins pointing up. He grabbed me and pulled me to the surface without stopping. I came to when the bright sunlight hit our eyes just below the surface. I had 250 psi of air left in my tank.

Gregorio thought I had the bends. The boat Captain raced us back to the dock and an ambulance met us, accompanied by a young Mexican Federale armed with an AR15 automatic rifle and full bandolero. Incidents of this type often occur when drugs are present. My wife was feeding me a Tootsie Roll and after some scrutiny, they realized no drugs were involved. They took me to the local Clinica Emergencia and a wonderful young Mexican doctor told me he was taking away my dive privileges for the remainder of that trip.

I learned a lot from that dive early in my experiences. I'm much more careful, better prepared, and aware of the dangers of being over 100 ft. under water and all the things that can go wrong. For some reason, God spared my life, if only to teach me how really foolish I can be at times. I'm grateful for His patience and have continued to dive successfully for several years. Oddly enough, a camera-man, filmed me as I was coming through the reef starting to go into spasms but didn't realize what was happening. Not the kind of video, or first dive experience I was hoping for.

Safe diving!