I was scared shitless. I hated it. The water was hot. I felt a bit claustrophobic. I wanted to shoot to the surface, rip the regulator out of my mouth and say ok at least I tried. Then I took one....loooong...deeeeep....breath....And?? I loved it. This wave of calm came over me and I knew. I was meant to dive. By the end of my training, I could sink pretty quickly to the bottom, I had made up the "regulator" dance (the regulator is the name of the breathing aparatus and you're supposed to do a specific move to replace it in your mouth if it gets forced out somehow, it's a pretty awesome move), I could dive without my mask, and I could remove my BCD and weight belt underwater. All of these are basics, but I learned them all in 4 days and my dive instructor said I am a natural underwater. Apparently I'm smart to fall off the side of the boat as well.
On our first dive, I saw a stingray. Due to my excitement, I crushed the sand dollar I was saving to give to my dive buddy. As I watched the bits sink to the bottom, I smiled to myself. I am a fish. I can breath underwater. I'm close enough to touch this creature. I'm gliding through the water, swimming with clownfish, whitetip reef sharks, coral fans, soft and hard corals, beche-de-mer, angelfish and dogface puffers.
We swam through a rock tunnel at 18 meters below the surface of the water. I'm addicted. I need to dive. I want to get my Advanced Open Water. That means a night dive, a search and recovery dive, a wreck dive (this calls to the history buff in me), and another extreme dive.
Diving is one of the most incredible things I've ever done. Why did I wait so long?
No comments:
Post a Comment