Yesterday, I spent a couple of hours in a swimming pool in Benfleet. Nothing particularly odd or noteworthy there, you might think. People go to swimming pools all the time. However, we were wearing scuba gear. For just £25 we were able to view the odd sticking plaster or piece of sweet wrapper and swim round in circles for a couple of hours. That might not sound like much, but it really was... read on, McDuff!
When we were on honeymoon in Turks and Caicos, one of the attractions was the promise of being able to scuba dive in various locations close to the resort upon completion of a short course. We didn't get to do it and I was the cause. K___ was fine, but I really wasn't. We sat on the side of the pool whilst we were instructed in how to use the equipment and given some basic hand signals we would need to know. With that done, we were strapped into the equipment and jumped into the pool. For a few seconds, I was fine. I looked around and could see K___ across the pool, and the other six or seven people surrounded by the bubbles marking their point of entry. And then, trying to breathe in, I found myself in difficulties. I can't honestly recall exactly how I managed it, but I found myself with some water in my mouthpiece. Despite the fact that I was just a few centimetres under the surface of the water, this was a distinctly unpleasant and worrying sensation. I couldn't remember how to clear it, and I had to go to the surface. I cleared the water and went down again. This time, I was very conscious of my breathing.
If you've ever started thinking about breathing, you'll know that it rapidly becomes a very strange experience. We're not terribly good at controlling it 'manually' and it's quite an effort. I can recall as a child concentrating on my breathing until I started hyper-ventilating. I think this is what happened in Turks and Caicos. With my regulator cleared, I thought I would be all right, but I was concerned that I wasn't getting enough air in. It was all I could do to breathe in enough air in short gulps and I certainly wasn't in a position to concentrate on anything the instructor might have been trying to tell me. With my irregular breathing, the regulator soon filled with water again and I was forced back to the surface where I stood, panting. Even once I'd got my breathing back to normal, I was unable to go under the water before it happened again. The only other thing that I could think about whilst I was under was that I really didn't want to be ten metres down in open water if I was going to get a gobfull of water. All in all, I was a bit panicked, to say the least and I eventually decided that I had better get out of the pool.
To say I was disappointed would be an understatement; diving had been one of the things I was most looking forward too on our honeymoon. There was the added feelings that I had let K___ down too. I insisted that she should go out on a dive, but despite my protests, she refused to go, so I had banjaxed it for both of us.
I wouldn't generally say I am a scared person; certainly not when it comes to 'dangerous' pursuits. I've done rock climbing and abseiling and enjoyed them enormously. I've never been daunted by heights, and my mother insists I spent half my childhood climbing trees. I would love to chuck myself out of a plane and skydive etc. Perhaps it's just going below sea level that I have a problem with?
I think that one of the major issues was that I'd never even snorkelled at the point I went into the training pool. After the failure to scuba, K___ and I did at least one trip every day out onto the reefs and I quickly grew to love the feeling of being suspended above the brightly coloured fish, turtles and corals. I naively swam after the beautiful silver fish that I saw, only to later learn they were potentially dangerous barracuda. Mind you, they had little chance of being caught up by me! In Italy in 2005, I stole a mask and snorkel from my seven year old nephew C_____ (he much preferred to collect stones and build castles on the beach) and lie on my front collecting sand-smoothed pieces of glass from the shallows. Absolutely bliss! In doing this, I had acclimatised myself to the necessary breathing technique.
When we decided that we would go to Cuba in January 2006, the scuba issue came up once more. We booked a £25 course entitled 'Discover Scuba Diving' with a company based in Basildon; Reef and Wrecks Diving. Once we had signed the necessary medical forms and disclaimers and selected our equipment and driven to the pool, there was virtually no delay before getting into the water and getting the equipment on. Just a couple of minutes after getting in, we were swimming about underwater.
It was remarkably low stress and very much better for the fact that K___ and I had a dedicated instructor keeping an eye on us. With only two of us, we were able to work at a speed that suited us. The instructor, Jim, regularly brought us up to the surface to check on how we were feeling and to correct our technique. He was encouraging about our progress and provided us with constructive feedback on how we could improve. After two hours, I was entirely confident of being able to do it in Cuba and was wishing we had something more interesting to look at than the bottom of a school swimming pool. To me, it was a testament to the skill of the team at Reef and Wrecks Diving that I was confident enough to be bored of the tiles. Unfortunately, we won't be able to do a full 'Open Water' course before we leave, but both of us felt that it was something we would want to do when we return. In just two hours, I had gone from apprehension to anticipation of our trip. My heartfelt thanks go to Jim and the Reef and Wrecks Diving team.
I'll let you know how we get on in Cuba. I can't wait!
When we were on honeymoon in Turks and Caicos, one of the attractions was the promise of being able to scuba dive in various locations close to the resort upon completion of a short course. We didn't get to do it and I was the cause. K___ was fine, but I really wasn't. We sat on the side of the pool whilst we were instructed in how to use the equipment and given some basic hand signals we would need to know. With that done, we were strapped into the equipment and jumped into the pool. For a few seconds, I was fine. I looked around and could see K___ across the pool, and the other six or seven people surrounded by the bubbles marking their point of entry. And then, trying to breathe in, I found myself in difficulties. I can't honestly recall exactly how I managed it, but I found myself with some water in my mouthpiece. Despite the fact that I was just a few centimetres under the surface of the water, this was a distinctly unpleasant and worrying sensation. I couldn't remember how to clear it, and I had to go to the surface. I cleared the water and went down again. This time, I was very conscious of my breathing.
If you've ever started thinking about breathing, you'll know that it rapidly becomes a very strange experience. We're not terribly good at controlling it 'manually' and it's quite an effort. I can recall as a child concentrating on my breathing until I started hyper-ventilating. I think this is what happened in Turks and Caicos. With my regulator cleared, I thought I would be all right, but I was concerned that I wasn't getting enough air in. It was all I could do to breathe in enough air in short gulps and I certainly wasn't in a position to concentrate on anything the instructor might have been trying to tell me. With my irregular breathing, the regulator soon filled with water again and I was forced back to the surface where I stood, panting. Even once I'd got my breathing back to normal, I was unable to go under the water before it happened again. The only other thing that I could think about whilst I was under was that I really didn't want to be ten metres down in open water if I was going to get a gobfull of water. All in all, I was a bit panicked, to say the least and I eventually decided that I had better get out of the pool.
To say I was disappointed would be an understatement; diving had been one of the things I was most looking forward too on our honeymoon. There was the added feelings that I had let K___ down too. I insisted that she should go out on a dive, but despite my protests, she refused to go, so I had banjaxed it for both of us.
I wouldn't generally say I am a scared person; certainly not when it comes to 'dangerous' pursuits. I've done rock climbing and abseiling and enjoyed them enormously. I've never been daunted by heights, and my mother insists I spent half my childhood climbing trees. I would love to chuck myself out of a plane and skydive etc. Perhaps it's just going below sea level that I have a problem with?
I think that one of the major issues was that I'd never even snorkelled at the point I went into the training pool. After the failure to scuba, K___ and I did at least one trip every day out onto the reefs and I quickly grew to love the feeling of being suspended above the brightly coloured fish, turtles and corals. I naively swam after the beautiful silver fish that I saw, only to later learn they were potentially dangerous barracuda. Mind you, they had little chance of being caught up by me! In Italy in 2005, I stole a mask and snorkel from my seven year old nephew C_____ (he much preferred to collect stones and build castles on the beach) and lie on my front collecting sand-smoothed pieces of glass from the shallows. Absolutely bliss! In doing this, I had acclimatised myself to the necessary breathing technique.
When we decided that we would go to Cuba in January 2006, the scuba issue came up once more. We booked a £25 course entitled 'Discover Scuba Diving' with a company based in Basildon; Reef and Wrecks Diving. Once we had signed the necessary medical forms and disclaimers and selected our equipment and driven to the pool, there was virtually no delay before getting into the water and getting the equipment on. Just a couple of minutes after getting in, we were swimming about underwater.
It was remarkably low stress and very much better for the fact that K___ and I had a dedicated instructor keeping an eye on us. With only two of us, we were able to work at a speed that suited us. The instructor, Jim, regularly brought us up to the surface to check on how we were feeling and to correct our technique. He was encouraging about our progress and provided us with constructive feedback on how we could improve. After two hours, I was entirely confident of being able to do it in Cuba and was wishing we had something more interesting to look at than the bottom of a school swimming pool. To me, it was a testament to the skill of the team at Reef and Wrecks Diving that I was confident enough to be bored of the tiles. Unfortunately, we won't be able to do a full 'Open Water' course before we leave, but both of us felt that it was something we would want to do when we return. In just two hours, I had gone from apprehension to anticipation of our trip. My heartfelt thanks go to Jim and the Reef and Wrecks Diving team.
I'll let you know how we get on in Cuba. I can't wait!
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