Worst Divers Ever

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VTWarrenG

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Santa Clara, CA
So, in keeping with the legends of stroke lore that have recently been plastered all over the technical sections of this board, I'd like to open up a discussion about some of the worst diving atrocities you've ever seen. I figure we can all learn a thing or two by evaluating the actions of others.

My story begins just after my NACD Intro Cave class. My two buddies and I were going to explore Peacock a bit in the last few hours of daylight after our certification was complete. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and the park was basically deserted. We drove to the park, and were busily setting up our rigs, when an older gentleman approached us. He asked us if we needed a buddy. We explained that, no, we were practicing as a three-man team, and didn't have room for anyone else. He didn't accept it gracefully. Every few minutes he came back to our picnic table, and talked to us. He just wouldn't leave.

After a bit of discussion, we discovered that he wasn't cavern or cave certified. Naturally, we flatly refused to let him join us, instead giving him our instructor's information so he could pursue training. He got pretty mad at us, but finally was convinced to just dive in the spring basin.

The three of us geared up and jumped into the water, unaware of the old man's whereabouts, and began our penetration into the cave. I was the third diver. Just past the edge of the daylight zone, I do a bit of back-referencing for practice... and lo and behold, what do I see behind us? The sillouhette of the old man, swimming in after us, uninvited.

I signal my buddies, we call the dive and exit. The old man, of course, swims out as fast as he can to avoid being seen, not realizing he had already been seen. We break the surface, spot the old man's bubbles, now moving toward the far end of the basin. We pursue him, and make him ascend with us. We begin yelling at the old man for endangering everyone. He gets ragingly mad at us, tells us how he's been diving for longer than all three of us combined, has been deeper than anyone he knows, etc.

We swam away from him angrily and exited the water, as we now needed to change tanks as a result of all the pursuing and such.

The old man gets out, too, and now feels that he needs to explain to us what a good diver he is. He tells us a story, to impress us: the story was set two weeks prior, at the same spring. Three guys with rebreathers were preparing for a quite serious cave dive, and the old man decided he was going to play the tag along trick. (It was a usual thing for him.) He followed the cavers in until his fear got the best of him. He said he had underestimated not only the speed at which the cave divers swam, but also how far they intended to go. My friends and I stared at him, wide-eyed. He explained to us that he finally stopped, and the cavers just kept on going. He didn't have lights, so he just had to sit in the darkness. He said it took five or six minutes for his eyes to adjust, so he could see the glimmer of daylight and exit. Remember -- this was his heroic story about how well he dealt with problems -- his attempt to impress us. He leaned back, smiling at us, and again assured us he was a good diver.

We asked the man if he realized that the finger of God came down and touched him, and that was the only reason he was still alive. We asked him if he realized that he nearly killed himself, and had, by all rights, cheated death. He was surprised that we were so awestruck, since apparently this kind of stupidity was his normal modus operandi.

The old man was apologetic, and began treating us like old pals -- but still wouldn't leave. We discovered that he had traded a parachute for his dive gear back in the '70s. He didn't have an SPG or a backup reg. He didn't have any lights, or reels. He didn't understand why that was unacceptable, since he had always used that gear. After all, he had been diving longer than all three of us put together.

We finished gearing up, and the old man still persisted that he would make a good fourth man. We assured him that, should he even TRY to get in the water again, we'd drive off to find a sheriff or park ranger to deal with him. Eventually, you guessed it, it got physical, and one of my buddies threw a few punches at him. He finally got the message, put his gear back into his beat up old truck, and drove away. We made sure there was no sign of him when we finally got back in the water.

For all we know, he probably came back the next day, too.

What kind of stories do you have?

- Warren
 
Originally posted by VTWarrenG
Nooo... it's a dark green.

- Warren

Ah haa ... Hmmmm...

Warren,
What color is the band at the bottom of this message...
Where it says in white letters:

All times are GMT -
 
LOL...

That would be BLUE, pug. However, my shirt is green. It may look blue online, but I assure you... it's really quite green.

- Warren
 
Originally posted by VTWarrenG
LOL...

That would be BLUE, pug. However, my shirt is green. It may look blue online, but I assure you... it's really quite green.

- Warren

Warren, my young friend...
We don't always see things the same way in life...
Especially when we are *online*...
Things can get confused...
And appearances change...
But at least we can all agree that the shirt is plaid, right?
So rather than me accuse you of color blindness...
Let's just talk about plaid.
 
https://www.shearwater.com/products/swift/

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