first, get your gear on and ready to dive.

    second, go down to the dock and kneel on the lower steps,

with the water up to about your waist, so you can take

the weight of your double tanks off your back.

    third, while trying to get your legs stretched out from

under you, slip backwards.

    fourth, land with your face under two feet of water

and your double tanks anchoring your back against the bottom

steps.

    what do you do? 

************************

    this actually happened to me today.  i was diving at

Peacock Springs (Luraville) with two buddies, and my

back, as usual, was bugging me (I broke my L1 vertebrae

in a motorcycle crash in October, 2004).

    so, while the third team member finished getting ready,

two of us headed down to the water at Orange Grove Sink.

The Steps at Orange Grove Sink

    as usual, i was pretty much set up and ready to go: primary reg was

coiled around my torso and hanging from my right shoulder, my

secondary reg was on a bungee around my neck.  all i was holding

was my hood, mask, and fins.

    so... down i go to the bottom step.  by kneeling, i was able to get

relief from the weight of my double tanks (only LP 85's, but still murder

on my back).  at that point, my plan was to push my feet from under

me, sit, and put the fins on, then enter the water and finish gearing up

by putting my hood and mask on.

    not so fast.  as i was trying to move my left leg from under

me to sit, my right leg slipped (there's moss and algae on the

wooden steps).  trying to save my back, i sort of put my hands

down to lessen the blow.  my tanks slid on the wood, and they

slid further down.

    at that point, my primary contacted the water and started

free-flowing something awful.  the hissing was just incredible,

and inches from my right ear.

   then, the water was over my face.  faster than i could even

think, i felt the tanks under me, as, facing up, i felt the water

enter my mouth and nose.

    my first thought was to be embarrased (dang it... why

do i always have to be so clumsy).

    my second thought was to get the free-flowing reg under

control.  with my left hand, i groped for it.  no luck.  i

groped again.  no luck.

   ok.. you're under water.  primary problem: air.

    solve primary problem.

    easy: go to secondary regulator.  sure enough, there

it was, where it always is, hanging from my neck.  i had

no trouble at all getting it and putting it into my mouth.

though some cold water had gone up my nose and into

my sinuses (not fun), i could breathe ok.

    emergency over.  now, what to do?

    i still wanted to shut up that darned free-flowing reg.

i groped for it again.  nope.  groped for it again. nope.

ok, give up on it.

    now, the tricky part.  heaving myself over with a pair

of doubles strapped to my back. with a strong kick and

a shove (and a sharp pain to my back... again), i was

belly first on the steps, right side up.

   right there, was my buddy.  she had been in the water

when i slipped, and had covered the distance to me in

about five to ten seconds, the time the entire episode took

place.   her hand was on my arm, and she was steadying me.

it felt good to know that help had been about 10 seconds

away.

   "are you ok?"

    "yeah..."

**********

   what ifs...

    my buddy tells me that someone died under similar circumstances

a while back.  she's not sure if at Peacock or at Manatee, but

a diver fell back, got his face under water, his air was off, could

not get up, and drowned while his buddy ran to the car to get some

gear he'd forgotten.

    to drown in two feet of water while wearing scuba gear.

seems almost perverse.

    what if i hadn't turned my air on?  what if when i fell, instead

of blessed air (which inmediately solved the problem) i would

have gotten a mouthful of nothing?  this would have probably

sent my stress level through the roof, maybe into panic

territory... and when you panic... well... you've lost the battle

right there.

   what if i hadn't set up my secondary so it would hang

bungied under my chin?  what if, like the primary reg,

i had flailed around looking for it while the seconds ticked away?

    what if, without air, i would not have been able to flip myself

over so easily?  what if i had struggled in vain to un-turtle myself?

    and what if my buddy hadn't been there, ten seconds away

and ready to help?

   well... i wouldn't be writing this, that's what if.

    but things worked out well.  i always make sure my air is

on before heading for the water.  i always gear up as though,

upon stepping into the water, i will need to go to scuba

immediately (i don't assume i'll be able to set myself up

in the water).  i always make sure my secondary is bungeed

around my neck.

   then there's the training.  i took Rescue.  i know about

"self-rescue."  i know about stopping, thinking, acting.

luckily, i was able to head off the emergency before it

got out of control, the very definition of self-rescue.

   and finally, my buddy was there.  it took her less than

ten seconds to get to me.  i would have had a regulator

in my mouth in two more seconds.  say fifteen seconds

total.  that's a great insurance policy.

   all in all, i think we did alright today.

   after this incident, we had three great dives.  and

ain't that what diving is all about?

    i had a good dive year in 2005.  thought i'd summarize it

here.

  I met my goals of completing Introduction to Cave  as well as

DIR-F.  Both classes were challenging, and taught me

quite a lot about what skills i didn't quite have down pat

(it comes down to bouyancy and task loading).  Bottom

line is, I feel I am a better diver after completing these

two classes.

Me at the Ginnie Springs Ballroom

   On the travel front, my wife and I went to Roatan, Honduras,

where we stayed at the CocoView Resort.  I highly recommend

the CocoView for anyone who is serious about diving.  I

wasn't feeling well, but managed to complete 18 dives on an

"easy" schedule. 

    Some of the other places I dove this year are, in no

particular order (all places in Florida unless otherwise

designated): Peacock Springs, Blue Grotto, Ginnie Springs

and Devil's System, Manatee Springs, off-shore Jacksonville,

and Blue Spring.

     This year was my first with a drysuit.  I have done roughly

30 dives with it, and I absolutely love it. Was also my first

year with Scubapro Jetfins, and they are superb for delicate finwork.

   Also of note, this year marked my first doubles dive.  I

bought a set of Worthington Low Pressure (LP) 85's

from ScubaToys.  They gave me a nice deal on the

manifold and bands as well.  I was pretty proud to put

the tanks together myself, though, of course, this isn't

hard.

   As for the final numbers, this year I did 61 dives (41 freshwater,

20 salt).  Of those, 37 were overhead (12 cavern, 25 cave).

I also did 2 night dives.

 This seems to be the average for me now.  I've  managed to do about

60 dives per year, give or take, for the past three years.

  Looking forward to the new year, and best of luck!

    actually, the blogging first:

   for some, blogging is an act of faith, a statement of belief that

if you write it, they will read it.

   for others, it's an act of hope: if you write it, who knows, they

may read it.

   and for others, is the act that matters: it's fun to blog, and who

cares whether anyone reads it?

   i find myself firmly in the third category (though it sure is nice

to get feedback, and i have been blessed with some great feedback).

  so what does that have to do with drysuits?

   well... first... i must fess up that i (a) dive in Florida; and (b) own

a drysuit.  shame... oprobium... alas...

   i love my suit, got it used for way too much money, and it came

with two leaks that took FOR EVER to patch.  i am 95% dry now,

with just a slow seeping, not enough to call it wetness, on the right

upper chest.  it is a DUI TLS 350, and i love it.

  (just today, i finished my 31st dry dive, and i love it)

that's not me.... just some dude modeling the TLS 350

    anyway... so what does blogging have to do with drysuits?

    well... some people dive dry because they have to (due to diving

conditions); and some dive dry because their friends dive dry and it's

a hassle diving wet and keeping up... and yet, others, dive dry....

because they want to.  that's right.  just because.

    i dive dry in Florida because i want to.  i like it.  i hate being cold

and wet. (i also hate being hot and wet, but that's another story).

i have no reason to dive dry.  my 3 mil. farmer john and hood is more

than adequate for Florida diving.

  so there... go ahead and mock.  i dive dry for no reason at all.

just because.  and try stopping me if you dare: you will have to pry

this drysuit from my wrinkly, shriveled fingers!

     haven't been doing much diving lately, so been thinking about

the spirit of dives past ... both my wife and I agree that if we were

to return to a dive location we've already visited, that place would be

Bonaire.

   the diving is great, but we love it for what it offers above water

as well: a quiet, laid-back place, with plenty of room to explore

on your own.  we particularly loved the town of Rincon, still

looking very much as it must have in the 16th century when

the Spanish built it far enough inland to be safe from attack

by sea.  

   Also, where else in the world do they have "donkey crossing" signs?"

   a little out of the way, but the indian inscriptions at Lac Bay are

worth the trip.  these images were created by the first inhabbitants of

Bonaire, a group of people called the Caiquetios (a branch of the

Arawak).  here is what the images they left behind look like:

     here's a little info about the Caiquetios:

          Bonaire's first inhabitants were the Caiquetios, a branch of the Arawak Indians who sailed across from what is now Venezuela around 1000 AD. Traces of Caiquetio culture are visible at a number of archaeological sites, including those at Lac Bay and northeast of Kralendijk. Rock paintings and petroglyphs have survived at the caves at Spelonk, Onima, Ceru Pungi, and Ceru Crita-Cabai. The Caiquetios were apparently a very tall people, for the Spanish dubbed the Leeward Islands 'las Islas de los Gigantes' (the islands of the giants). The name the Caiquetios gave to their island was adapted into Spanish as 'Boynay.'

Source

     and therein lies the last thing i'll say about Bonaire: most people think the

name comes from the French "bon aire" (good air), but that isn't so

     i was doing my last dive of the introduction to cave class with

johnny richards, my instructor (awesome diver).  things were going

well.  then, on our way out of the Peanut Tunnel, Johnny called for

an air-share drill.

two divers enter Peanut Tunnel.  Johnny and I had just exited

the tunnel at this same spot when he began the drill. note the gold (main) line on the center bottom.

picture by someone else

     we had done this before, and we did it again, smoothly.  and then,

i swallowed some water.

    basically, i rushed a little getting the regulator back in my mouth,

and didn't take the time to manage things.  as i inhaled, i also took in

some water, which immediately started to choke me.

   i began to cough, and i couldn't inhale air.  i desperately needed to

breathe, but somehow, my coughing wouldn't let me inhale.  almost

automatically, i went to my backup regulator and tried breathing off

that one.  nope.  i couldn't inhale.

   i was seriously in need of air.  that's when the thought entered my

mind: you are in a cave, 60 feet under rock, 200 feet from the entrance,

and you can't breathe.

   i'm not sure what i was thinking at that point.  i know that i decided

to get Johny's attention (at least they'll know where to find the body)

and to ask for his help (he's my instructor, maybe he can perform

a miracle).

   he was already coming towards me.  i swam towards him,

giving him the "out of air" sign.  i noticed, with some grim

satisfaction, that both of us were horizontal in the water, and

that no silt was being kicked up.  visibility was beautiful.

  he handed me his primary, and i tried breathing from it.

for some strange reason, i was able to.  i took a frew

breathes, tried to calm myelf down (not exactly easy), and then

switched over to my primary.

diver in Peanut Tunel. note main (gold) line to the left. that means this diver is coming

out of the tunnel.   photo by someone else

  everything was back to normal.  everything but my mind.  i just wanted

out of there. talk about tunnel vision.  all i wanted to do was get out of that cave.

   per the dive plan, i was to lead to the end of the mainline, then

johnny would get in front of me, and i would reel the primary

safety line out.  that was the plan.

   at this point, Johnny came up to me and signaled to leave the reel

in place.  let's worry about it later.  i shook my head. no.  i wanted

to bring the reel in. that was the plan.  johnny said no.  i said no.

i untied the reel and started it reeling my way to the surface.

   after about two minutes, i realized johnny wasn't in front of

me like he was supposed to be.

    i had left my buddy in the cave.

    if i felt bad before, it was nothing compared with the sinking

feeling at the pit of my stomach when i realized what i had

done.  i turned around.  no sign of johnny.

   i knew he was ok (i hoped he was ok), but my failure to keep

track of him floored me.  i recalculated thirds, and went

back in looking for him.  no sign of him.

   after a while, i just gave up and went up to the surface. i

felt sick to my stomach.

    after a little while, johnny came up to the surface from where

he had been hiding.  he didn't say anything.  i finally said,

"that was pretty bad."  "yup," said johnny, in about as neutral

a tone as i've ever heard him use.

   needless to say, we had to do that dive over again before i

could finish the class.