Scuba diving Part II: The Diver Drop

Jumping In, Ready to Be Still

"Keep the line moving, miss," said the drudging government agent. The TSA may not seem like the quickest crew around, but they have to keep the line moving this spring break. 

There’s In-n-Out, Jiffy Lube, Quick Books, and Slim Fast. Moderns live by their calendars; and time seemingly accelerates at an ever increasing speed. Faster is better, right? Quick and easy are seductive words in this culture; slow and methodical just kills the buzz. Who wants to be still?

Underwater exploration is a life lesson in waiting, patience, and methodical skill. Scuba divers learn, train, practice, drill, equip, deliberate, plan, slowly descend, and patiently wait for the lifetime burning in every moment below the ocean surface. The ocean floor is God’s amusement park, but you cannot move through the snarled line and get to the ride any faster.

Diversity, color, and quiet. Those three things resonate in my “diving memory.”  The dark ocean I saw in Cozumel irradiated the deepest blue I had ever seen, even alluring in its pull. With colors as abundant as salt in the reefs of Belize, God designed vivid hues bursting forth like the strip in Las Vegas, but with natural beauty. Sometimes divers wish their faceplate contained a magnifying glass, for there are as many infinitesimal animals crawling around the reef as big fish swimming by. Diversity multiplied by one-thousand!

Once the diver assumes balance between his buoyancy and the weight belt, and breathing is slow; he is able to open himself to the wide vision of an explorer. This leveling is easier to describe than achieve. Slow breathing conserves the supply of air, and smooth swimming calms the body. The Chinese call this wu wei—expectant beingness*, below the water. Actionless action is opposite of conquest or conscious striving; instead the diver allows the ocean world to unfold before him, as a gracious sojourner in a foreign land.

Dive plans typically set out safety parameters, length and depth of diving, but should only propose basic goals for the dive. This does not get to the heart of expectations. Struggling against the ocean as an alien is fruitless, wasteful, and even foolish; each dive takes so much preparation and cost, divers often feel rushed. The few minutes of exploration rarely turn out as expected; indeed Scuba divers experience the wonder of marine exploration only when they move with the rhythm of the current and join in the gradual unfolding of undersea life as a respectful guest.

As I sit next to a busy Houston boulevard reading and writing about my diving experiences, automobiles routinely pass by in the background. The rhythmic surging of sound on the pavement reminds me of the crashing waves at surf’s edge. Not exactly observing the Caribbean Sea, yet my log book takes me back to these dives as if I hold my mask and regulator and flip backwards into the ocean. Here we go!

writing ©Mark H. Pillsbury
*note: concept discussed by Sue Monk Kidd in When the Heart Waits (HarperCollins 1990); my application to Scuba diving is original.