If an adventure is a dive into the unknown, then my dip into scuba diving has to be the most immersive and challenging experiences of my life. My first attempt at a PADI Open Water Course lasted as long as it took for me to kit up, stagger awkwardly across the beach, and have a complete panic attack the second my head was submerged.
I pretty much gave up on the idea of diving after that: even when I went on a liveaboard trip to the Great Barrier Reef (my husband had taken to diving like a duck); even when I was the only snorkeller on the boat (and was told at the start of the trip that sharks rarely attack divers – usually snorkellers); even as I watched the rest of the crew and holidaymakers and my husband sink down into the depths where I couldn’t follow; even with the knowledge that the owner of the dive company had been attacked by a shark whilst snorkelling the week before; even then I still couldn’t bring myself to relive the panic I had experienced on submersion.
I loved snorkelling. I loved watching the underwater scenes which were different each time I put my face in the water; I was a God looking down on a world which stretched away further than the human eye could ever see.
I probably wouldn’t have taken things further but years later I moved to Brunei. By this time my husband was a very keen diver and we were good friends with a diving instructor who assured me that he could teach anyone to dive. Most importantly, I could take as much time as I needed. The thing I had struggled with on the PADI course was how quickly it progressed but this time was a lot different.
Lesson one we went through the kit and practised breathing out of the pool, and then underwater in the shallow end. Only when I was confident underwater did I have to think about swimming, or removing my mask, or any of the other skills I needed to know. Only once did I panic, after jumping in and thinking I couldn’t breathe. My friend grabbed hold of me and shouted, ‘It’s ok, you’ve got your reg in. You can breathe!’ It was so funny I couldn’t help laughing. The fear I had gradually lost its power.
It was fear that had really put me off – nearly all accidents to do with diving are due to panic, and I didn’t want to risk getting into a situation where I wasn’t comfortable. I learnt so much during my lessons about the importance of taking things slowly and soon became confident with the aspects of diving which had terrified me at first – recovering a regulator and “losing” my mask. I also learnt how filthy the bottom of the swimming pool was!
Eventually it was time for me to leave the safety of the pool, and I booked my open water qualifying dives at a resort in Malaysia which was only a half-hour flight away. The first few dives were to do with checking my skills, but I still got to see lionfish and many other colourful inhabitants of the nearby reef which strayed into the sandy “practice” bay. We gradually got deeper, though the visibility wasn’t good. At one point I had to make a controlled emergency ascent. There were two of us, plus the instructor and the other guy was asked to go first. I’ll never forget sitting on the sea bed by myself as the two others swam upwards, the visibility was no more than a few metres and I just sat there, for what could have only been a few minutes at most thinking, I have finally got over my fear!
By the time the second day came around, I was able to just enjoy myself and I will never forget those dives: I saw a seahorse up close, parrotfish, nudibranchs and so many fish I can’t remember the names of. It was different to being on the surface, no longer a God, a spectator, but actually part of another world. I was a clumsy participant; it was so hard to control exactly where I was going at times, especially as the sea was growing rougher, but I always felt in control. I felt so proud as I finished my final qualifying dive and became a certified diver.
But the best part was still to come. My husband was diving at the same resort and I managed to join his boat for the final dive of the day. It was quite rough by then, but I knew that I was confident enough not to panic. It was amazing going under the waves, which by now had such a swell that snorkelling wouldn’t have been possible, and sinking into the calmness below. Watching a cuttlefish wafting past, I felt part of something vast.
Even after I had left the water, with difficulty due to the sizable swell, I could hear the sea in my ears and feel the salt on my skin. The salt was easily washed off, but the wash and shushing of the waves didn’t subside and after a few days of growing pain I went to see a doctor to find I had badly perforated both my eardrums. Thankfully they healed, but as I hadn’t felt them burst and the ENT specialist found my sinuses were inflamed with persistent allergies which would make equalising difficult, I was advised that I could only dive again with extreme caution and that it would be safer not to.
After all that effort, to no longer be able to dive came as a huge disappointment. But having that experience and knowing that I overcame my fear to do something I had always dreamed of meant that learning to dive will always be one of the greatest adventures of my life.