Old Lady of the Sea

Things are looking up :) - 2:27 PM, 6/30/2006

When I first became certified as a PADI instructor, back in 1998, I was lucky to get to teach right away at Diver Dan's in Santa Clara, California, near my home. That was when Dan King had just bought the store and he still needed instructors. Now he owns several stores and has scores of teachers, quite an amazing success considering that first store wasn't doing so great when he first bought it.   This year, when I left California, I thought my dive career would be dead. But, the local dive shop in Las Cruces, Dive Quest Scuba, http://www.zianet.com/divequestnm/, is close enough that I can drive there. I phoned them up and the owners asked me if I wanted to teach scuba. Wait, did I hear that right? Teach scuba in the desert?? Cool.  Punk, the owner, is being so kind to me. I am going to have to use his rental gear, and I don't have any of my own books, or my old handouts. Nothing. But he says that is okay. Great. So, I sat in on his last OW class and helped him out in the pool. Trying to get the feel of how he does things. Well, certainly different from me, that's for sure. He spent his adult life as a Police Officer diving for search and rescue for like 120 years, or something like that, and he has been teaching scuba for about that long. He really knows from experience.   The Course Director who taught me was very "by the book." No coloring outside the lines. Don't tell students anything PADI does not approve of. Quite different from Punk. So, this will be fun. I like the idea of working with someone who speaks from the heart and cares more about keeping divers safe than worrying about whether or not he will be sued. Very cool. Plus, I get to dive in warm water. WARM WATER. Very nice. But, wait, how do I teach navigation without a compass. Okay, students, you look at your wrist like this and swim thatta way. LOL.

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- 8:56 PM, 6/29/2006

I am suddenly single. Living in Deming, New Mexico. It is 2006 and I don't know what I am doing here. It is the middle of the desert. No water for hours in either direction. Yesterday I lived near the bay. Everyday I would walk for an hour along the edge of the ocean. My heart is broken and I feel lost. Everything has abruptly stopped. Not by choice. My children are gone. My scuba gear is gone. Everything. My logbooks, my cameras, my photos, years of stuff I took for granted. My old Tusa regulator and my newer, cool, Mares regulator. My 3, yes 3 dry suits. My gloves. My boots. My masks and fins and tanks, everything. My beautiful home in California where I lived for the past 30+ years, ripped from my life. Suddenly single in the middle of the desert.   -----------------------------------------------------     It is 1986. I am in Santa Clara, California. My Naui open water instructor said he is here to weed out the weak ones. I hope I am not one of the weak ones. I hope. We are outside at the Santa Clara Dive Pool. Many olympic hopefuls dive here during the day, from the high dive into this deep, deep pool. I think it must be 20 feet deep, but I can't see the bottom. It is not lit. But there is plenty of light around us and I am very excited about learning to dive. My heart is pounding.   Instructor is showing us how to assemble our gear. We are each wrestling our tanks and hoses and BCs. Feels like there are so many hoses here. He is going to come and check so I really want to get it right. Lots of noise and excitement. This is going to be so much fun.   Wait, what was that? Splash? What? Instructor is throwing everything into the bottom of the pool. Fins, masks, weight belts, tanks, BCs, gone. Where is my stuff? Darn those black fins, they just disappeared. Crap.   "Dive down and don your gear." What? "Dive down and don your gear, your air is at the bottom." Did I hear right? Where is my gear? I have on a 7mm farmer john, a vest with a hood, gloves, boots. "We dive in cold water, get used to it" Instructor said. Okay.   I hit the water and realize that I float! FLOAT!! I try diving head first, feet first. Empty my lungs. Try to kick my way down. Try again. Fight that bouyancy. My feet flap around like some silly inflated baby toys on the surface. After what seems like an hour of struggling my head hurts. I haven't gotten even one inch under water, well maybe an inch, but everytime I get down a little bit I just pop back up. I see bubbles. Others are down there in the dark breathing underwater. I want to quit. I want to cry. Right now I think that is the only thing I actually do know how to do. Crap.   What? Divemaster appears to be either yelling or seizuring. I am not sure. I do not care. He is in the water and his arms are waving toward me and I can see his face. He does not look happy. I am thinking that if only I could get a mask, maybe if can actually see my gear, that might help.   Divemaster, I have prescription lenses in my mask. Without them I cannot see where my gear is. (wow, he stopped...either he is going to kill me or...) He dives away from me toward the bottom. Ya, easy for you with those nice fins.  Hmmm....I need fins.  He returns with my mask. Okay, I might not cry.   Divemaster, I got a cramp in my leg. (I am doing my best impression of a young, cute, female, cute...yes be more cute, that might help). He is gone again. Waiting, maybe. YES!  My fins!! I have never been so happy to see those ugly black things!    No problem. A few seconds later I am breathing through my regulator. Donning my belt and BC. Whew, that was so easy. Back on the surface my first thought is that Instructor is going to make me do it over, without my fins and mask this time. I look around. Most of the students are standing on the deck. Instructor is talking to them. He is facing away from me. He dosen't know. Nobody knows.   Thank you, Divemaster. Thank you. I might survive this.

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