tatek
November 16th, 2009, 10:50 PM
A little over a year ago, I was involved in a near-drowning during an AOW class. The events of that day made me completely re-examine my diving. I'm posting here in the hope that as many divers as possible can benefit from this experience. I will be deliberately vague about names, exact locations, etc. because I have no desire to place blame; what made me post this is the fact that, while mistakes were made, I think that many of these mistakes are being made by many divers all over the word, but most get away with them and make the same mistakes (with greater confidence) on future dives. I will present the incident as I remember it. I apologize in advance for the length of the post.
I had made five dives since my OW class and had recently moved; I saw this particular AOW class as a good introduction to a new dive shop, quarry, and diving community. I had never met my buddy before the first morning of the class; she had been certified for several years and had between 40 and 50 dives. As we were gearing up for the dive, my buddy mentioned that she had awakened with a migraine that morning but wanted to make the dives and felt up to it. We didn't talk much as we got ready to dive, in part becuase the weather was poor (torrential downpour) and we were all eager to get in the water. I assumed that my buddy was diving some gear that was new to her, since our instructor was helping her assemble some components of it. I was using rental equipment that was similar to what I had used in the past (we were both diving AL 80's, vest-type BC's, and full wetsuits). We did not really do buddy checks.
While a couple of assistant instructors supervised weight checks in a shallow section of the quarry, other instructors led the divers already checked to the assembly point in a deeper section of the quarry. My buddy and I were the last checked (neither of us were the fastest to don our gear, and she had had some trouble donning her tank and BC in shallow water). I was weight-checked first, and was sent toward the assembly point. I moved slowly to limit separation from my buddy until her weight check was complete and she caught up. The last of the assistant instructors started off behind her but quickly caught up. At about the time he was passing us, my buddy said that she didn't feel well and was calling the dive. The assistant instructor encouraged her to continue, telling her that she would be okay. My buddy again said that she was calling the dive and turned back toward our entry point (we were in a fairly narrow cove at this time, and though we were probably 60-75 feet from our entry point, we were perhaps half that distance from shore). I stayed more or less where I was, not wanting to move off without my buddy, but also not wanting to be separated from the rest of the class without a buddy.
About halfway back to shore (and 30 feet or so from me), my buddy went under water. I believe that the assistant instructor (who was about 20 feet to the other side, offshore, of me) thought that she had gone back on air for the remainder of the swim, and I though the same. When I took a look back at the point where she had left the surface, I saw no bubbles and asked the assistant instructor if he did. I had started to move back toward shore by this time, and the assistant instructor alerted the other divers that there appeared to be a problem.
When I got to the point where I had lost sight of my buddy, I looked underwater and saw a few very small bubbles (the type that would escape from gear, not from exhalation). I called out to the assistant instructor that I saw bubbles, and he told me to dive on them (we were only in 10-15 feet of water at this point, but I would estimate visibility in that part of the quarry at less than five feet). I deflated my BC and followed the bubbles, catching sight of the blade of a fin (visibility was so poor that I could only see from the fin tip to mid-thigh). I found my buddy unresponsive on the bottom with her regulator out and mask off. After trying unsuccessfully to inflate her BC, I inflated mine and brought us both to the surface.
By the time we reached the surface, the assistant instructor and a number of divers from another shop who were doing a SI nearby arrived, removed her BC, and helped move her to the beach. The divers who checked a pulse reported none and CPR was started. Two DAN O2 kits and some other medical gear were available fairly quickly. After about a minute of CPR, my buddy started breathing, and by the time the ambulance arrived, she was talking and generally oriented.
My buddy was discharged from the hospital the following day; I was told that little was found to be medically wrong. We have not spoken since that dive, so after she entered the ambulance I know nothing other than third-hand information and speculation. The class went on, though I chose not to participate.
Some of my thoughts on what went wrong:
My buddy chose to dive after awakening with a migraine.
An instructor tried to talk a diver who had called a dive into continuing.
My buddy and I did not communicate well before the dive, we were not familiar with each other's gear, and we did not do buddy checks.
Buddy teams were separated (I believe, in fact, that two divers in the water did not have buddies but were waiting for buddy teams to be assigned). When the instructors encouraged us (individually) to move out to the assembly point, I allowed myself to be separated from my buddy although I knew better. I then allowed her to head back to shore alone because I was concerned about being left on shore without a buddy.
My unfamiliarity with my buddy's gear (and a bit of panic) prevented me from operating her BC correctly; it functioned perfectly well later. That same bit of panic led me to quickly inflate my BC insead of kincking to the surface, which could have been problematic in deeper water.
Some of my thoughts on what went right:
My buddy had the sense to call the dive when she began to feel really uncomfortable and to stick with that decision even as an instructor tried to talk her out of it.
I was fortunate enough to find my buddy quickly (she was probabably only under water for 60 seconds).
There was well-trained help available on the surface; I am a physician and had finished the NOAA Dive Medical Officer course two weeks earlier, at least one other physician was present, and the instructors and rescue divers from both shops involved performed admirably (and would have done quite well with no medical professionals involved). I have been involved with rescusitations in hospitals that did not go as smoothly as this one did.
I had an excellent OW instructor and, through my dive medicine training, had the opportunity to work with military, commercial and scientific divers. I knew how things should have been done even though I did not put that knowlege into practice as well as I might have. My buddy and I also owe a lot to a lifeguard instructor who, many years ago, showed me a video of drowning victims. Just before she went under, my buddy bobbed like those swimmers, and I think that's what made me look closely for bubbles.
My general conclusions:
Many of us (divers, DM's, instructors, etc.) take shortcuts even though we know better. The more times we get away with these shortcuts, the more we are encouraged to take the same shortcut again. This incident, like almost every serious incident in and out of diving, involved not one or two mistakes, but a cluster of mistakes that conspired to create a near-disaster. I am sure that everyone involved had done similar things in the past. Looking back on the few dives that I had done prior to this one, I can identify a number of other occasions when someone I was diving with or I made bad decisions that could have ended badly. My luck held on those dives.
I remember a feeling of disbelief in the seconds after I found my buddy. I figured that she was unlikely to survive, and while I knew that divers sometimes lost buddies on wrecks and in caves I knew that it wasn't supposed to happen in a class in a quarry. I fear that too many recreational divers prepare for what is likely to happen rather than what could happen. Diving is not Disney World; while it is enjoyable, there are inherent hazards and if one expects to enjoy their dives unscathed one must be prepared to act appropriately. We're not just along for the ride. After that dive, the DIR/GUE concepts that seemed a little over-the-top in the past sound much more reasonable.
I have not been on SCUBA since that day. I have decided that, at this point, I don't have the time to devote to the sport to be sufficiently "sharp". I continue to snorkel and freedive, which has its own hazards but is far less complex. I may return to SCUBA at some point, but when I do it will be with more time to practice the sport and a trusted buddy (and possibly with a Hogarthian rig and some GUE training). My non-breathing buddy's face in murky water is a sight I don't believe I'll ever forget; very few divers have had the good fortune to see that sight, learn the lessons that come with it, and have all parties involved healthy at the end.
I had made five dives since my OW class and had recently moved; I saw this particular AOW class as a good introduction to a new dive shop, quarry, and diving community. I had never met my buddy before the first morning of the class; she had been certified for several years and had between 40 and 50 dives. As we were gearing up for the dive, my buddy mentioned that she had awakened with a migraine that morning but wanted to make the dives and felt up to it. We didn't talk much as we got ready to dive, in part becuase the weather was poor (torrential downpour) and we were all eager to get in the water. I assumed that my buddy was diving some gear that was new to her, since our instructor was helping her assemble some components of it. I was using rental equipment that was similar to what I had used in the past (we were both diving AL 80's, vest-type BC's, and full wetsuits). We did not really do buddy checks.
While a couple of assistant instructors supervised weight checks in a shallow section of the quarry, other instructors led the divers already checked to the assembly point in a deeper section of the quarry. My buddy and I were the last checked (neither of us were the fastest to don our gear, and she had had some trouble donning her tank and BC in shallow water). I was weight-checked first, and was sent toward the assembly point. I moved slowly to limit separation from my buddy until her weight check was complete and she caught up. The last of the assistant instructors started off behind her but quickly caught up. At about the time he was passing us, my buddy said that she didn't feel well and was calling the dive. The assistant instructor encouraged her to continue, telling her that she would be okay. My buddy again said that she was calling the dive and turned back toward our entry point (we were in a fairly narrow cove at this time, and though we were probably 60-75 feet from our entry point, we were perhaps half that distance from shore). I stayed more or less where I was, not wanting to move off without my buddy, but also not wanting to be separated from the rest of the class without a buddy.
About halfway back to shore (and 30 feet or so from me), my buddy went under water. I believe that the assistant instructor (who was about 20 feet to the other side, offshore, of me) thought that she had gone back on air for the remainder of the swim, and I though the same. When I took a look back at the point where she had left the surface, I saw no bubbles and asked the assistant instructor if he did. I had started to move back toward shore by this time, and the assistant instructor alerted the other divers that there appeared to be a problem.
When I got to the point where I had lost sight of my buddy, I looked underwater and saw a few very small bubbles (the type that would escape from gear, not from exhalation). I called out to the assistant instructor that I saw bubbles, and he told me to dive on them (we were only in 10-15 feet of water at this point, but I would estimate visibility in that part of the quarry at less than five feet). I deflated my BC and followed the bubbles, catching sight of the blade of a fin (visibility was so poor that I could only see from the fin tip to mid-thigh). I found my buddy unresponsive on the bottom with her regulator out and mask off. After trying unsuccessfully to inflate her BC, I inflated mine and brought us both to the surface.
By the time we reached the surface, the assistant instructor and a number of divers from another shop who were doing a SI nearby arrived, removed her BC, and helped move her to the beach. The divers who checked a pulse reported none and CPR was started. Two DAN O2 kits and some other medical gear were available fairly quickly. After about a minute of CPR, my buddy started breathing, and by the time the ambulance arrived, she was talking and generally oriented.
My buddy was discharged from the hospital the following day; I was told that little was found to be medically wrong. We have not spoken since that dive, so after she entered the ambulance I know nothing other than third-hand information and speculation. The class went on, though I chose not to participate.
Some of my thoughts on what went wrong:
My buddy chose to dive after awakening with a migraine.
An instructor tried to talk a diver who had called a dive into continuing.
My buddy and I did not communicate well before the dive, we were not familiar with each other's gear, and we did not do buddy checks.
Buddy teams were separated (I believe, in fact, that two divers in the water did not have buddies but were waiting for buddy teams to be assigned). When the instructors encouraged us (individually) to move out to the assembly point, I allowed myself to be separated from my buddy although I knew better. I then allowed her to head back to shore alone because I was concerned about being left on shore without a buddy.
My unfamiliarity with my buddy's gear (and a bit of panic) prevented me from operating her BC correctly; it functioned perfectly well later. That same bit of panic led me to quickly inflate my BC insead of kincking to the surface, which could have been problematic in deeper water.
Some of my thoughts on what went right:
My buddy had the sense to call the dive when she began to feel really uncomfortable and to stick with that decision even as an instructor tried to talk her out of it.
I was fortunate enough to find my buddy quickly (she was probabably only under water for 60 seconds).
There was well-trained help available on the surface; I am a physician and had finished the NOAA Dive Medical Officer course two weeks earlier, at least one other physician was present, and the instructors and rescue divers from both shops involved performed admirably (and would have done quite well with no medical professionals involved). I have been involved with rescusitations in hospitals that did not go as smoothly as this one did.
I had an excellent OW instructor and, through my dive medicine training, had the opportunity to work with military, commercial and scientific divers. I knew how things should have been done even though I did not put that knowlege into practice as well as I might have. My buddy and I also owe a lot to a lifeguard instructor who, many years ago, showed me a video of drowning victims. Just before she went under, my buddy bobbed like those swimmers, and I think that's what made me look closely for bubbles.
My general conclusions:
Many of us (divers, DM's, instructors, etc.) take shortcuts even though we know better. The more times we get away with these shortcuts, the more we are encouraged to take the same shortcut again. This incident, like almost every serious incident in and out of diving, involved not one or two mistakes, but a cluster of mistakes that conspired to create a near-disaster. I am sure that everyone involved had done similar things in the past. Looking back on the few dives that I had done prior to this one, I can identify a number of other occasions when someone I was diving with or I made bad decisions that could have ended badly. My luck held on those dives.
I remember a feeling of disbelief in the seconds after I found my buddy. I figured that she was unlikely to survive, and while I knew that divers sometimes lost buddies on wrecks and in caves I knew that it wasn't supposed to happen in a class in a quarry. I fear that too many recreational divers prepare for what is likely to happen rather than what could happen. Diving is not Disney World; while it is enjoyable, there are inherent hazards and if one expects to enjoy their dives unscathed one must be prepared to act appropriately. We're not just along for the ride. After that dive, the DIR/GUE concepts that seemed a little over-the-top in the past sound much more reasonable.
I have not been on SCUBA since that day. I have decided that, at this point, I don't have the time to devote to the sport to be sufficiently "sharp". I continue to snorkel and freedive, which has its own hazards but is far less complex. I may return to SCUBA at some point, but when I do it will be with more time to practice the sport and a trusted buddy (and possibly with a Hogarthian rig and some GUE training). My non-breathing buddy's face in murky water is a sight I don't believe I'll ever forget; very few divers have had the good fortune to see that sight, learn the lessons that come with it, and have all parties involved healthy at the end.