ShoalDiverSA
Contributor
I've come back to Scubaboard after a long (work-related) absence to report on my dive yesterday.
It was fantastic, with the Aliwal Shoal delivering one surpise after another, including Manta Rays, a Whale Shark (!!), Spotted Eagle Rays and a Frog Fish. The visibility was 20m+, which is exceptional for the Shoal.
So, by all accounts it should have been a perfect dive.
It wasn't. I did something foolish which could easily have cost me my life. Last night I lay awake, running through all the scenarios again and again. I can only thank God (and a good friend) that I am still alive, because I did everything in my power to ensure that I would not return from the dive.
[In the following report of what transpired I will mark glaring errors of judgement(!), exceeding my certification level(^) and going against what I was trained to do(*). This is probably not the best way to get my message across, but you will most likely get my point.]
We were swimming along roughly half way through the dive when the DM dropped down under a ledge about 2m below the reef top edge. He signalled to me that it was a swim-through (first "interesting" event). I dropped down alongside him (leaving my buddy behind (*)) and looked through the opening. I though I would be able to make it through(!^*). To give you an idea of what it looked like:
There was a horizontal opening about 3m wide by 2m high, which gradually narrowed to a blow hole in the roof. Thereafter it appeared to stay about the same height to an exit on the other side. The top was coral and the bottom sand.
I decided to enter the swim-through(!^*). I finned past a small shoal of dusky sweepers and prepared to exit through the blow-hole. I second-guessed myself (!*) and decided that I would not fit through the blow-hole. So, instead of turning around and heading out, I decided to continue to the "exit"(!).
Despite my initial assessment, the roof of the tunnel appeared to be narrowing. I can't remember exactly how many times my tank strap hit the roof, but it happened at least three times. At none of these times did I turn back (!).
Eventually, I was dragging myself along the sandy bottom to clear the roof behind me (!). My tank strap hit the roof, scraped a bit and I was stopped dead in my tracks. I was stuck. I tried to move forward a bit more (!), thinking I could clear the obstacle, but it only served to jam me into the roof worse. I tried to reverse then, but it felt like the tank strap had now been hooked onto an outcrop on the roof, acting like a one-way ratchet.
Panic started to set in (!*)(my heart rate and pressure has increased just typing the above paragraph). I pushed and shoved the sandy floor to try to move backwards, but nothing was happening (!). I tried to turn around (!). This snagged me even worse.
I started "talking" myself through the situation I had created. I realised very quickly that panic would kill me. I focused on "feeling" what the obstruction looked like and how it had hooked me. I started wriggling my tank side to side to try to free it, to no avail.
Now that I was leaning more to my left-hand side (since trying to turn), I could look back down the tunnel. I saw my friend (not buddy) approaching. He signalled OK to me - which was very reassuring - and I signalled OK back, to let him know that I was calm(ish). He directed me to roll to my right, which I did. The tank strap felt like it was moving easier. He then grabbed my tank and pushed it to the right and I came free. I reverse-finned until I had some headroom, then turned around and exited the tunnel. I waited for him at the tunnel exit and watched for his bubbles coming from the blow-hole to make sure that he did not run into trouble too. He exited through the blow-hole.
I signalled OK to him and joined my buddy who was waiting just past the tunnel with the rest of the group. I spent the next few minutes calming myself down and following the group. I realised that if I shot up to the boat straight away, I may have never dived again.
So there is my sordid story. I can't say that I am proud of my actions or that I can justify them in any way. I am very glad that I have learnt from this experience, as the next lesson could be my last. This experience was absolutely terrifying and is not recommended.
What have I learnt?
1) I am certified for a certain type of diving only. I am not certified for overhead environments, therefore I should not be entering them.
2) Overhead environments are specifically mentioned and forbidden a few times in the certification documentation. For a reason.
3) Panic kills. Avoid it by staying informed of diving hazards, incidents and accidents & avoiding the hazards. I can honestly say that my extensive reading on diving incidents (BSAC/DAN) helped me stay focussed on the issue at hand. I quickly realised that panic would not help me at all.
4) Buddy diving is a two-way street. I cannot be a dive buddy while grooving off to do some solo spelunking (Flippant remark, but you get the message). Even without anything going wrong in the tunnel, I turned my buddy into a solo diver for the duration of my side trip. Given that my buddy was an inexperienced OW diver who had been out of the water for a while made it even more unforgivable.
5) I should never do anything that I am not comfortable with. I managed to suppress my nagging doubts far too well. When in doubt, turn back, call the dive, whatever. Just don't continue regardless.
6) Don't take the judgement of other divers as a substitute to my judgement. I should never have taken the indication by the DM of it being a swim-through against what I felt. Perhaps, given his level of training and skill, it was a swim-through. Clearly, for me and mine, it wasn't.
7) Watch out for others that may not be watching out for themselves. Even though he was not my buddy, my friend was looking out for me.
That's all I can think of right now. I am sure that there are more lessons to be learnt, or that I learnt. I really hope that this story is caution enough for those who regularly tackle swim-throughs, tunnels or caves without the appropriate level of training, skill or planning. I know that it is for me.
Lesson learnt.
It was fantastic, with the Aliwal Shoal delivering one surpise after another, including Manta Rays, a Whale Shark (!!), Spotted Eagle Rays and a Frog Fish. The visibility was 20m+, which is exceptional for the Shoal.
So, by all accounts it should have been a perfect dive.
It wasn't. I did something foolish which could easily have cost me my life. Last night I lay awake, running through all the scenarios again and again. I can only thank God (and a good friend) that I am still alive, because I did everything in my power to ensure that I would not return from the dive.
[In the following report of what transpired I will mark glaring errors of judgement(!), exceeding my certification level(^) and going against what I was trained to do(*). This is probably not the best way to get my message across, but you will most likely get my point.]
We were swimming along roughly half way through the dive when the DM dropped down under a ledge about 2m below the reef top edge. He signalled to me that it was a swim-through (first "interesting" event). I dropped down alongside him (leaving my buddy behind (*)) and looked through the opening. I though I would be able to make it through(!^*). To give you an idea of what it looked like:
There was a horizontal opening about 3m wide by 2m high, which gradually narrowed to a blow hole in the roof. Thereafter it appeared to stay about the same height to an exit on the other side. The top was coral and the bottom sand.
I decided to enter the swim-through(!^*). I finned past a small shoal of dusky sweepers and prepared to exit through the blow-hole. I second-guessed myself (!*) and decided that I would not fit through the blow-hole. So, instead of turning around and heading out, I decided to continue to the "exit"(!).
Despite my initial assessment, the roof of the tunnel appeared to be narrowing. I can't remember exactly how many times my tank strap hit the roof, but it happened at least three times. At none of these times did I turn back (!).
Eventually, I was dragging myself along the sandy bottom to clear the roof behind me (!). My tank strap hit the roof, scraped a bit and I was stopped dead in my tracks. I was stuck. I tried to move forward a bit more (!), thinking I could clear the obstacle, but it only served to jam me into the roof worse. I tried to reverse then, but it felt like the tank strap had now been hooked onto an outcrop on the roof, acting like a one-way ratchet.
Panic started to set in (!*)(my heart rate and pressure has increased just typing the above paragraph). I pushed and shoved the sandy floor to try to move backwards, but nothing was happening (!). I tried to turn around (!). This snagged me even worse.
I started "talking" myself through the situation I had created. I realised very quickly that panic would kill me. I focused on "feeling" what the obstruction looked like and how it had hooked me. I started wriggling my tank side to side to try to free it, to no avail.
Now that I was leaning more to my left-hand side (since trying to turn), I could look back down the tunnel. I saw my friend (not buddy) approaching. He signalled OK to me - which was very reassuring - and I signalled OK back, to let him know that I was calm(ish). He directed me to roll to my right, which I did. The tank strap felt like it was moving easier. He then grabbed my tank and pushed it to the right and I came free. I reverse-finned until I had some headroom, then turned around and exited the tunnel. I waited for him at the tunnel exit and watched for his bubbles coming from the blow-hole to make sure that he did not run into trouble too. He exited through the blow-hole.
I signalled OK to him and joined my buddy who was waiting just past the tunnel with the rest of the group. I spent the next few minutes calming myself down and following the group. I realised that if I shot up to the boat straight away, I may have never dived again.
So there is my sordid story. I can't say that I am proud of my actions or that I can justify them in any way. I am very glad that I have learnt from this experience, as the next lesson could be my last. This experience was absolutely terrifying and is not recommended.
What have I learnt?
1) I am certified for a certain type of diving only. I am not certified for overhead environments, therefore I should not be entering them.
2) Overhead environments are specifically mentioned and forbidden a few times in the certification documentation. For a reason.
3) Panic kills. Avoid it by staying informed of diving hazards, incidents and accidents & avoiding the hazards. I can honestly say that my extensive reading on diving incidents (BSAC/DAN) helped me stay focussed on the issue at hand. I quickly realised that panic would not help me at all.
4) Buddy diving is a two-way street. I cannot be a dive buddy while grooving off to do some solo spelunking (Flippant remark, but you get the message). Even without anything going wrong in the tunnel, I turned my buddy into a solo diver for the duration of my side trip. Given that my buddy was an inexperienced OW diver who had been out of the water for a while made it even more unforgivable.
5) I should never do anything that I am not comfortable with. I managed to suppress my nagging doubts far too well. When in doubt, turn back, call the dive, whatever. Just don't continue regardless.
6) Don't take the judgement of other divers as a substitute to my judgement. I should never have taken the indication by the DM of it being a swim-through against what I felt. Perhaps, given his level of training and skill, it was a swim-through. Clearly, for me and mine, it wasn't.
7) Watch out for others that may not be watching out for themselves. Even though he was not my buddy, my friend was looking out for me.
That's all I can think of right now. I am sure that there are more lessons to be learnt, or that I learnt. I really hope that this story is caution enough for those who regularly tackle swim-throughs, tunnels or caves without the appropriate level of training, skill or planning. I know that it is for me.
Lesson learnt.