Discovering Scuba...halfway
For years, I’ve watched my travel partner, Shawn, go to beautiful places to scuba dive. More than once, he’s told me I should get certified, and I’ve shrugged it off because really…it’s never been something I had a burning desire to do. But it wasn’t until he said “it’s the most relaxing thing and I’d like you to have that feeling” that I actually gave serious thought to it.
Our weeklong beach vacation, from where I write this even now, was kind of a joke on my part, a flippant facebook message about how much I wanted to go to an island where he could dive, I could relax, and we’d meet for dinner. True to form, Shawn was like “well, let’s go,” and so here I am in Honduras, writing this from a beach bar in the middle of a gorgeous reef while he’s off diving. As an aside, I can’t remember a vacation this relaxing…even as I’ve managed to stress myself out about am I relaxing CORRECTLY? Good grief. That’s a topic for another post. Here’s the view from where I’ve spent most of the last 3 days, FYI.
Anyway, I waffled for weeks about if I’d try scuba diving while here. Then I discovered an offering at the dive shop called “Discover Scuba” and it was perfect. They teach you a few skills, and if you master those, they take you on a guided dive to see how you do. If you complete it, you get a certificate and a few skills to apply to the much more involved Open Water Certification.
I decided this was perfect. I could do it, and then, if I didn’t like it, no harm no foul. But if I did, I could decide to continue training in the amazing blue waters of the Caribbean. Win-win.
So, let’s talk a little bit about my pre-diving jitters. Mostly it was the normal fears I have when learning something new, coupled with an ill-defined unease about being under the water. I love swimming, I love snorkeling, but I never really have a need to go deep, and drowning is probably one of my least favorite ways to imagine dying.
But, once we got to the island, Shawn’s enthusiasm was contagious, and I got a little psyched for my class. The skills section went ok. As usual, I think one of my biggest fears/blocks to this stuff is simply - I don’t like not doing something well immediately. I had to remind myself I was there to learn, and I wasn’t expected to know how to do it. Good thing, too, because I was not at ease under the water, breathing through a regulator/tube. There was a low level simmer of panic, of “I don’t belong down here.” But I also had a good moment, where I was learning to clear my mask, and I totally botched my first time. But instead of surfacing, I made a hand signal that said “give me a minute,” took a couple breaths, thought it through, and did it correctly. I think that was the moment my trainers thought I’d be ok. Later, they asked if I was ready for a dive, and I – feeling a little high because with time to practice, I’d felt the panic mostly subside – blurted out “you know, 5 minutes ago, I was going to bail. But yeah, let’s do it.” They cheered and gave me high fives.
Then I got to sit and think about it for an hour or so. I was really hoping it would go well. I wanted to like it, for Shawn’s sake as well as mine. I wanted to like it enough that I’d want to do the course in full, because I liked the people at the dive shop and it would have been a fun new accomplishment, a fun new skill to claim. Everyone was so sure I would do just fine.
You might tell from the tone of those last sentences that all didn’t go as I’d liked. Heading out in the boat with the entire dive group was fun; I enjoyed listening to their chatter and preparations. The sea was beautiful. And everyone was kind and rooting for me, Shawn most of all, who decided to come along on my first dive to take pictures.
So, after getting all suited up, I did the “giant stride” off the boat (just like you see in movies, one hand on the mask, one on the weight belt, look at the horizon, and step (don’t jump)). And then it was quick quick to the anchor line, where we would go down hand over hand, equalizing ears (like you do on an airplane) every few feet. This is the first thing that can get a new diver…if she can’t equalize, the pain can be awful and the dive is over before it begins. I did fine at this…no pain, no issues, and because I was worrying so much about doing the equalizing right, I didn’t have time to get too worried about being 20 feet under the water.
But once I got down there, and we did the hand signal “you ok?” check in, we were off on a dive. I was supposed to follow Aidan, the assistant, at all costs, and was assured that Madison, the lead instructor, would be basically at my side the whole time in case something went wrong.
Nothing did. I kicked along, idly looking at fish, but really, ultimately, just trying to get my breathing to feel less like I was taking my last breaths. Another thing NOT to do while diving is hold your breath. Big no-no, because if you do that…well…something scientific happens that could over-inflate your lungs, and yeah, that could really ruin a relaxing vacation.
The whole time I was under, there was a low level feeling of mild panic bubbling. I can’t figure out how to describe it right. It wasn’t the fear of imminent drowning, though there was a little of that. I couldn’t name it then, and I struggle to now. But as water seeped into my mask, I started to get really anxious about if I could properly clear it. What if I messed up? I couldn’t just pop my head up and breathe normally. Clearly I was not thinking clearly, because there are redundancies to help in such situations. But then, two very clear thoughts came into my head.
1) I was not enjoying myself even though it was beautiful down there.
2) Did I want to do 20 (I guessed) more minutes of this, even if I perfectly cleared my mask? The answer was no.
So, without much thought, I turned to Madison and gave her the sign that I wanted to go up. This is a thumbs up sign.
Funnily, in the skills section I’d got the “A-ok” sign confused with the “thumbs up.” “A-ok” means “all good,” “Thumbs up” means “I want to go up.” Madison, likely surprised, since I’d just been cruising along, grabbed me by the vest and gave me the “are you sure?” look. I assured her with another thumbs up that I was. And so she released the valve on my floating device (also known as BCD - buoyancy control device) and up we went through our bubbles.
When we broke the surface, my first words were “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m just…” and Madison seemed to get it right away. I’m sure she was relieved I wasn’t having a medical issue. Aidan popped up nearby and Madison shouted “she hates it, we’re going back to the boat!” which seemed a little extreme, but hey, I’d probably scared her. Anyway, we paddled our way back to the boat. She was kind as I stammered my way through apologies and attempts to explain, and urged me to do more snorkeling and get more comfortable in the ocean - good advice. I asked her how long we’d been down: 17 minutes, longer than I’d thought. We’d gone to 40 feet at our deepest.
She got me to the boat, then returned to complete the dive with Shawn and Aidan.
And I sat in the boat and thought about it.
I’ve done nothing but think about it for the last week, and I’m not sure I have any more insights into what went wrong. Shawn and I talked about it, naturally, and he has been just amazing in not making me feel like a failure. In fact, he’s the one who said I should get a certificate anyway, because “You discovered Scuba, halfway,” which made me laugh.
Here’s the important thing before we get into too much analyzing, you all. I don’t feel like a failure. I’m a little disappointed, sure, but this was something that scared me, and I still gave it a solid try. So let’s set that aside and not waste any more energy on it.
What am I wondering is if this is the kind of fear I can overcome with more practice. I think it might be. See, while Shawn’s been off diving for the rest of our vacation, I’ve been snorkeling and kayaking…mostly alone. And I’ve found myself having to overcome that same bubbling undercurrent of anxiety. Like, for example, while snorkeling, I’ve been skittish to go too far from the dock, because what if I mess up somehow? Today, I went kayaking in a lagoon behind our resort, and as I glided through the mangroves…I couldn’t shake a mild feeling of unease.
Is it because I was on my own? Maybe a little. Or was it because I was in a new place, a new environment, a place I’m not comfortable? I think it’s more the latter than the former,
It reminds me of a milder version of the almost-panic I experienced while backpacking recently. Or, while clinging to a sheer rock face on a via ferrata in West Virginia. Looking at all these cases, it’s clear this is a fear born of not feeling confident in myself and my strength/ability to succeed/survive in a totally unfamiliar place.
So what did I do after the via ferrata? I signed up for strength training with the goal of never feeling that scared in that environment again.
After that tough day of backpacking? I worked through my issues (eventually), reminded myself I was still strong and capable, and finished the hike in a way that made me proud.
So, is there a parallel here? Will I, as Shawn suggests, go through the training in a nice safe swimming pool to see if I can get out of my head enough to be comfortable? Maybe. Maybe I’ll try again someday, mostly just because I don’t like giving in to something that scares me.
But for now, snorkeling is just fine with me. Because…check out a few pictures below. And as one of the super-cool divers on the boat said, just think of all the money I saved on dive fees. :)
Oh, and PS: Shawn is amazing and did get some pictures of me before I bailed.
Oh, and PPS: For those like me who carry extra pounds, I was worried about this, but it was fine. I did make sure to get medical clearance, but I had no problem using the dive shop’s gear and they had no issues with my less-than-skinny self. ;)