Scuba diving Part III: It feels like the First Time

My first diving buddy, George Hansen, could attest that when there is no visibility in a slimy green Texas dive park, it is hard to stay close to your partner. During an unusual September cold snap in Hill County, 14 years ago, together we descended the depths of Lake Whitney in 78° water while the dark skies drizzled rain above us. Taking only a couple 3 Lbs. weights on my belt and all the pool training of a neophyte with me, I set out to earn the SSI® Level 1 diver classification from the great Wm. Sandy Hardy, my dive master.

How does fresh-water certification diving compare to the real thing? Not as deep, not as clear, not as warm, not as much color, not as free, less enjoyable! Like watching 1970s-vintage public television on the tiny black and white Sony® TV in my parents’ study growing up, compared to watching modern cable-TV on today’s HD flat-screen behemoths. In just six weeks, back in 1998, I went from Lake Whitney in Texas to the underwater canyons outside San Pedro, near Ambergris Caye Belize, in Central America. Hello HBO®

Lumbering out of the skies onto the dirt airstrip of Ambergris Caye Belize, the heavy single-engine turboprop Cessna® Caravan dropped down to earth carrying a weighty load of divers and gear. Largely undiscovered fourteen years ago, this tiny Caribbean hamlet operated at a unhurried pace along the second largest barrier reef in the world. No one wore shoes on this tiny diver’s paradise; it seemed that we all had webbed feet.

image: Alberto Bradley

The Bradley family business services the active tourists flocking to the outer atolls on the Caribbean side of Central America. With a team of boys rotating through as fishing guides, jungle canopy leaders, and dive masters, the Bradleys showcase the wonders of this small country above and below sea level. Alberto Bradley took us to three major canyons along the coast: San Pedro, Victoria, and Tackle Box canyons.

Once outside the protective barrier reef, the waves slowly roll, punctuated by the occasional splash of frothy water, briny and blue in the mid-morning sun. The water temperature at ten degrees warmer than the freshwater in Texas made it quite comfortable. Visibility in the Caribbean Sea reached easily 100 feet; at the bottom of the canyon (110 feet) we looked up to see the boat waiting to pick us up. Seemingly scuba diving in a Godly aquarium, our dive group observed some of the finest excursions the ocean could offer.

One of the beguiling sensations of diving is swimming in the solitude and silence of deep water. Combined with the velvety abyss just over the blue horizon, a diver feels like an astronaut exploring a distant planetary seascape. Unlike the solar system, this world is teaming with life. Witnessing an undersea population explosion made fishing seem a lot easier looking up toward the surface, with millions of yellowtail snapper ready to take the hook. Small angelfish with their shimmering purple & gold skin caught my eye; and in a surprising example of cooperative living, I saw a spider crab inhabit the same apartment space as a 6-foot green Moray eel. Even in cramped quarters, they seemed to live together peaceably as neighbors.

just drop in a hook

During the first few dives in open water amidst the swirling Caribbean Sea, I learned that I am very small in relation to the rest of the world, especially one covered by salt water. My survivability existed within limited risk-management parameters compared to the danger of such a colossal ocean. Although we were trained for this adventure, inserting ourselves into vast, seemingly invisible currents limited our ability to maintain control over direction and speed of movement. Understanding human limits underwater fosters attitudes of patient, realistic, openness—anticipatory, actionless action* which requires a hopeful, situational awareness that this monstrous ocean will unfold in front of you at its own torpid pace. I wrote of this in a previous post (Part II) and will tell of a perfect example in a later post, as I describe a particular dive occurring on Sunday, October 25, 1998.

No offense to buddy George but in addition to the great visibility, my dive partner in Belize was so much easier to look at than he was. There were times she was so beautiful I thought it was a mermaid.

Diving taught me, that as in life, knowingly inserting yourself into a larger stream of consciousness and action, can carry you off to places to which you had not planned to go. Knowing the environment, watching the flow of circumstances, seeking experienced guides, observing forces, destinations and conclusions, often allow the diver or businessman to “plan the process” with some sort of foreknowledge or strategy. Otherwise, you go where the ocean current takes you.

writing ©Mark H. Pillsbury

(pictures are for personal use)
*note: again I am using an original application of these concepts to Scuba diving, learned reading Sue Monk Kidd's When the Heart Waits (HarperCollins 1990) see Ch. 2