It was the summer of 1973 and I was 11 turning 12. My first step-father had bought some scuba gear and he and my mother got certified in the Clearwater/Dunedin area where we were living at the time. I was growing up in the Tampa Bay area with grandparents on Anna Maria with a houseboat and a lot of time in the Gulf swimming or at Lithia Springs near Valrico/Brandon. Put all this with watching Mssr Cousteau on television and going to Silver Springs and Weeki Wachee -- I was ready to try it!
After bugging my step-father about it, he told me to read through a thick book which I think was called something like the Scuba Diver's Bible, and he would ask me some questions. If I answered enough of them right, he would let me try it. I was already an avid reader so I poured over that book going through the pages intently. After a week or two, and while we were driving to camp on the Weeki Wachee River that weekend, I proclaimed I was ready for the "test." I can't remember what all he asked me, but I know I got enough of them right and was told I could try the gear after we got the camp set up.
As we all know, we don't forget that first breath underwater and mine was at about seven feet or so in the Weeki Wachee River. I'll always remember that instant feeling of freedom, knowing I didn't have to surface. I spent some time poking around enjoying the fish and looking for artifacts. After all these decades, it's still a great memory for me and generally I feel bad for people who won't experience it.
After bugging my step-father about it, he told me to read through a thick book which I think was called something like the Scuba Diver's Bible, and he would ask me some questions. If I answered enough of them right, he would let me try it. I was already an avid reader so I poured over that book going through the pages intently. After a week or two, and while we were driving to camp on the Weeki Wachee River that weekend, I proclaimed I was ready for the "test." I can't remember what all he asked me, but I know I got enough of them right and was told I could try the gear after we got the camp set up.
As we all know, we don't forget that first breath underwater and mine was at about seven feet or so in the Weeki Wachee River. I'll always remember that instant feeling of freedom, knowing I didn't have to surface. I spent some time poking around enjoying the fish and looking for artifacts. After all these decades, it's still a great memory for me and generally I feel bad for people who won't experience it.