sungod357
Registered
We left the dock and made our way to the dive site. It was a beautiful Sunday morning and we spend the ride out watching the morning shrimp boats and the coastline disappear into the distance. I set my gear up and got my regulators on my first tank. It took about 25 min to get to the wreck. It was an old Russian barge. It had been split in two by the hurricane in 95. After the captain set the anchor, we donned our gear and Scott and I made our entry. We swam to the anchor line and began our decent.
The water was warm and the visibility was ok. We followed the line to the site. Once there we swam over the left side and down along the haul toward the back of the ship.
There were lots of brightly colored fish and small octopie in the area. We made our way through the schools and around to the back of the wreck. There was a small opening and I followed Scott in. We had to move slow to avoid getting tangled and had to kinda pick and chose our way through the large pieces of debris and torn steel. We made our way through to another opening and what I thought was the back side on the ship. The second half of the wreck was 40ft away from the section we were in. I began to make my way over to the next section. I couldn't see it yet and as I move slowly that direction, I caught movement off to the right. I stopped and looked. It was a huge barracuda . . . and he had friends. It was an outlaw gang of bad fish, and they were looking for trouble. At that point, it occurred to me that I looked like a guy that might be fun to harass, rod and leave crying on the ocean floor. I turned and began my swim back to the ship, to hide there with the rest of the bait fish. Scott was right next to me and as we swam back I checked my compass. It seemed to me that we were heading a little more to the right then we should be. I looked over to Scott and motioned us to the left more.
It was at this point that I had already made a critical mistake. This was my first ocean dive and Scott had way more experience than I did. But would I let that stop me from correcting the only person that could have the correct information at the time. HELL NO! So in my continued attempt to be right in all things, I...in my infinite ignorance decide to insist that Scott was swimming the wrong direction. He swam over to me and we continued on the course I was so sure was correct. It was after about 35 seconds that I realized that we should have been over the wreck site by now.
Scott knew this already, but had other things to deal with, Like getting us out of the swift underwater current that I had so fantastically put us in. Taking the lead, He grabbed my BC and we began to swim, hard! About 30 seconds of that and Scott decided that we were not making any real head way and signaled for us to surface. We made our way up slowly and after the safety stop, found ourselves 200 yards off the port side of the dive boat! ****! Add another make next to "Shaun almost got us killed" in the universal record of Dumb ***'s.
After a grueling 10 min swim against the current, we make it to the boat and get aboard. "How was the dive?" asked the female dive master on board. "Salty" was the only word I could sputter out without vomiting all over her. I made it to the bench and doffed my gear. That's when the pain came. Like an iron fist squeezing my head. I thought my head was going to implode! I sat there and just concentrated on continuing breathing. Something was horribly wrong. I just held my head in my hands and wished for death. I was barely able to look over to Scott and see him doing the same thing.
"Oh ****!" I thought. "We're bent!" Visions of coast guard helicopters and shots of long hallways in medical facilities came to mind. I looked at Scott again and he looked to be hiding a lot of pain. "You ok" I managed to ask. He nodded and leaned forward, holding his head in his hand also. The dive master and the captain came over and checked on us. "I've got some pure O2 if you want it" he offered I nodded and followed him to the tank. I sat and huffed the pure O2 for about 5 min and things got better. I made my way up to the fly bridge and sat there and the cool ocean breeze made me feel a lot better. By then most of the other divers had surfaced. Scott had sat up and looked much better.
I felt good enough to head by down to the main deck and talk to Scott. Reading my mind, he looked up and said, "We came up fine . . . I think it was the swim to the boat that got us." "Yeah". was all I could manage. I sat back down and had some pineapple. The captain started the boat and we made our way over to the next site. I changed my tank and got the rest of my gear set up. We anchored and Scott and I let the rest of the passengers enter the water first.
We check our gear again and I turned on my gas. I there was quiet hiss coming from the octo and I gave it a shake. "****!" I muttered, none too quietly. "I'll have to use it as my primary." Distracted by that I donned the rest of my gear and made entry into the water. Once in I swam to the anchor line and met up with Scott. I stopped and found that now both of my damn regulators were leaking air fast. ****!
Shut me down, I said. I swam back over to the boat and boarded. The dive guy changed my set up with another one and back in the water I went. We began our decent and again I used the anchor line to pull myself down, only this time it was much harder. ****! I forgot that I had changed tanks from a steel 95 to an alum 80 and hadn't added more weight to my belt. I reached down and then realized the entire truth. I had completely forgotten to PUT ON my weight belt!
The bitter viscera of humiliation swept over me. I made Scott aware of this and saw the bitter resentment in his eyes. We ascended and after the safety stop, surfaced. I then had to( with egg running down my face) ask them to please hand me the weight belt. "LOL"- it must have made them smile with fear.
They gave it to me and after I got it on we made our second decent of the day. I got to the bottom and swam about 10 ft from the dive line. " OH NO, . . . NOT AGAIN! ****!
In my rush to PUT ON THE ****ING WEIGHT BELT, I had forgotten again to add the right amount of extra weight. I was still too light, not horribly, but enough to make it a pain in the *** to stay at depth and impossible to stay level. So there I was, floating head-down and feet up, looking like the biggest ***-hole to ever enter the water. If this wasn't enough, In all my travels to and from the dive boat, I had burned up most of my air. I had about ten min left and couldn't go ten feet from the dive line. I looked up and saw the dive lady above me. I gave her the ok and she checked my gas. She gave me the ascend signal and then motioned to Scott to follow her. I was so miserable. I had ****ed up this WHOLE trip. And not only had I ****ed up this dive for me, but for Scott as well. Scott didn't follow her but made his ascent with me and surfaced. We boarded the dive boat and again the headache returned, not nearly as bad and the first but still uncomfortable.
I strapped my gear in and went to the fly bridge, hoping to feel better and also thinking that maybe there I wouldn't screw up anything else on this trip. At this point, I was afraid that I would either fall off the back or some how crash the boat into the rocks and kill us all. So I tried to stay out of the way. The passengers and crew surfaced and the captain began the cruise back to the dock.
I felt so bad. I just sat there and tried not to look too morose. I must have had half the passengers at one time or another ask me "So . . . how long have you been certified? I remained pleasant and just answered them. "About 10 weeks" I replied with a forced smile. I received the expected nod and smile.
I blew it. And the worst part was that I blew it for Scott as well. I could tell he was really annoyed, even though he tried to hide it. He had paid for this whole trip and for his 160.00 he got 15 min of good bottom time, swept out to sea, had to swim for his life against a hard current, a headache to rival all others and most of the rest of the time wasted tried to keep my stupid *** alive.
When I go and **** some thing up, I REALLY **** it up! No half-assing there. I **** it again and again till what's left is un****able. It wasn't a matter of being off my game. I had no game. I took my game deep into the woods and shot it dead, caved its skull in with a large rock, set it on fire, then jumped up and down on it for good measure. I left it bleeding and broken in the woods to rot.
We made it back to the dock and loaded our gear. We drove to the china restaurant and got some food and cold iced tea's. By then Scott was in a better mood and was able to laugh about the dive. He told me that while I was getting my weight belt, he was chatting with one of the other dive crew. "It's his first ocean dive" Scott had said. " No ****" was the reply. "At least he has a good attitude." The captain told Scott. " Others would have just quit and come on board." I laughed.
The only redeeming quality to the trip is simply this. I learned a lot. I learned what not to do on an ocean dive. I learn to always go slow and to pay attention. I learn how fast things can go wrong and that a stupid mistake cannot only kill you, but they can also kill those trying to help you. I learned to harness my ego and to listen the advice and direction of my dive partner, who has worlds more experience than I do. I learned that knowing the fundamental does not mean you're a good diver, It means you have the potential to become a good diver. I won't let this phase me. I'm taking Scott back on the boat in two weeks on my tab, figure I owe him at least that much. They say a good diver is always learning, Well, its true. Just don't let the learning curve kill you in the process.
Sungod
The water was warm and the visibility was ok. We followed the line to the site. Once there we swam over the left side and down along the haul toward the back of the ship.
There were lots of brightly colored fish and small octopie in the area. We made our way through the schools and around to the back of the wreck. There was a small opening and I followed Scott in. We had to move slow to avoid getting tangled and had to kinda pick and chose our way through the large pieces of debris and torn steel. We made our way through to another opening and what I thought was the back side on the ship. The second half of the wreck was 40ft away from the section we were in. I began to make my way over to the next section. I couldn't see it yet and as I move slowly that direction, I caught movement off to the right. I stopped and looked. It was a huge barracuda . . . and he had friends. It was an outlaw gang of bad fish, and they were looking for trouble. At that point, it occurred to me that I looked like a guy that might be fun to harass, rod and leave crying on the ocean floor. I turned and began my swim back to the ship, to hide there with the rest of the bait fish. Scott was right next to me and as we swam back I checked my compass. It seemed to me that we were heading a little more to the right then we should be. I looked over to Scott and motioned us to the left more.
It was at this point that I had already made a critical mistake. This was my first ocean dive and Scott had way more experience than I did. But would I let that stop me from correcting the only person that could have the correct information at the time. HELL NO! So in my continued attempt to be right in all things, I...in my infinite ignorance decide to insist that Scott was swimming the wrong direction. He swam over to me and we continued on the course I was so sure was correct. It was after about 35 seconds that I realized that we should have been over the wreck site by now.
Scott knew this already, but had other things to deal with, Like getting us out of the swift underwater current that I had so fantastically put us in. Taking the lead, He grabbed my BC and we began to swim, hard! About 30 seconds of that and Scott decided that we were not making any real head way and signaled for us to surface. We made our way up slowly and after the safety stop, found ourselves 200 yards off the port side of the dive boat! ****! Add another make next to "Shaun almost got us killed" in the universal record of Dumb ***'s.
After a grueling 10 min swim against the current, we make it to the boat and get aboard. "How was the dive?" asked the female dive master on board. "Salty" was the only word I could sputter out without vomiting all over her. I made it to the bench and doffed my gear. That's when the pain came. Like an iron fist squeezing my head. I thought my head was going to implode! I sat there and just concentrated on continuing breathing. Something was horribly wrong. I just held my head in my hands and wished for death. I was barely able to look over to Scott and see him doing the same thing.
"Oh ****!" I thought. "We're bent!" Visions of coast guard helicopters and shots of long hallways in medical facilities came to mind. I looked at Scott again and he looked to be hiding a lot of pain. "You ok" I managed to ask. He nodded and leaned forward, holding his head in his hand also. The dive master and the captain came over and checked on us. "I've got some pure O2 if you want it" he offered I nodded and followed him to the tank. I sat and huffed the pure O2 for about 5 min and things got better. I made my way up to the fly bridge and sat there and the cool ocean breeze made me feel a lot better. By then most of the other divers had surfaced. Scott had sat up and looked much better.
I felt good enough to head by down to the main deck and talk to Scott. Reading my mind, he looked up and said, "We came up fine . . . I think it was the swim to the boat that got us." "Yeah". was all I could manage. I sat back down and had some pineapple. The captain started the boat and we made our way over to the next site. I changed my tank and got the rest of my gear set up. We anchored and Scott and I let the rest of the passengers enter the water first.
We check our gear again and I turned on my gas. I there was quiet hiss coming from the octo and I gave it a shake. "****!" I muttered, none too quietly. "I'll have to use it as my primary." Distracted by that I donned the rest of my gear and made entry into the water. Once in I swam to the anchor line and met up with Scott. I stopped and found that now both of my damn regulators were leaking air fast. ****!
Shut me down, I said. I swam back over to the boat and boarded. The dive guy changed my set up with another one and back in the water I went. We began our decent and again I used the anchor line to pull myself down, only this time it was much harder. ****! I forgot that I had changed tanks from a steel 95 to an alum 80 and hadn't added more weight to my belt. I reached down and then realized the entire truth. I had completely forgotten to PUT ON my weight belt!
The bitter viscera of humiliation swept over me. I made Scott aware of this and saw the bitter resentment in his eyes. We ascended and after the safety stop, surfaced. I then had to( with egg running down my face) ask them to please hand me the weight belt. "LOL"- it must have made them smile with fear.
They gave it to me and after I got it on we made our second decent of the day. I got to the bottom and swam about 10 ft from the dive line. " OH NO, . . . NOT AGAIN! ****!
In my rush to PUT ON THE ****ING WEIGHT BELT, I had forgotten again to add the right amount of extra weight. I was still too light, not horribly, but enough to make it a pain in the *** to stay at depth and impossible to stay level. So there I was, floating head-down and feet up, looking like the biggest ***-hole to ever enter the water. If this wasn't enough, In all my travels to and from the dive boat, I had burned up most of my air. I had about ten min left and couldn't go ten feet from the dive line. I looked up and saw the dive lady above me. I gave her the ok and she checked my gas. She gave me the ascend signal and then motioned to Scott to follow her. I was so miserable. I had ****ed up this WHOLE trip. And not only had I ****ed up this dive for me, but for Scott as well. Scott didn't follow her but made his ascent with me and surfaced. We boarded the dive boat and again the headache returned, not nearly as bad and the first but still uncomfortable.
I strapped my gear in and went to the fly bridge, hoping to feel better and also thinking that maybe there I wouldn't screw up anything else on this trip. At this point, I was afraid that I would either fall off the back or some how crash the boat into the rocks and kill us all. So I tried to stay out of the way. The passengers and crew surfaced and the captain began the cruise back to the dock.
I felt so bad. I just sat there and tried not to look too morose. I must have had half the passengers at one time or another ask me "So . . . how long have you been certified? I remained pleasant and just answered them. "About 10 weeks" I replied with a forced smile. I received the expected nod and smile.
I blew it. And the worst part was that I blew it for Scott as well. I could tell he was really annoyed, even though he tried to hide it. He had paid for this whole trip and for his 160.00 he got 15 min of good bottom time, swept out to sea, had to swim for his life against a hard current, a headache to rival all others and most of the rest of the time wasted tried to keep my stupid *** alive.
When I go and **** some thing up, I REALLY **** it up! No half-assing there. I **** it again and again till what's left is un****able. It wasn't a matter of being off my game. I had no game. I took my game deep into the woods and shot it dead, caved its skull in with a large rock, set it on fire, then jumped up and down on it for good measure. I left it bleeding and broken in the woods to rot.
We made it back to the dock and loaded our gear. We drove to the china restaurant and got some food and cold iced tea's. By then Scott was in a better mood and was able to laugh about the dive. He told me that while I was getting my weight belt, he was chatting with one of the other dive crew. "It's his first ocean dive" Scott had said. " No ****" was the reply. "At least he has a good attitude." The captain told Scott. " Others would have just quit and come on board." I laughed.
The only redeeming quality to the trip is simply this. I learned a lot. I learned what not to do on an ocean dive. I learn to always go slow and to pay attention. I learn how fast things can go wrong and that a stupid mistake cannot only kill you, but they can also kill those trying to help you. I learned to harness my ego and to listen the advice and direction of my dive partner, who has worlds more experience than I do. I learned that knowing the fundamental does not mean you're a good diver, It means you have the potential to become a good diver. I won't let this phase me. I'm taking Scott back on the boat in two weeks on my tab, figure I owe him at least that much. They say a good diver is always learning, Well, its true. Just don't let the learning curve kill you in the process.
Sungod
