The latter part of last year, I was making a boat dive in Lake Travis (Austin, TX) at a spot called the "Oasis Wall". I buddied up with a couple of guys, one who needed to log a dive deeper than 100 ft in preparatin for taking a tech course. The plan was to head out perpendicular from the shore, then drop down into the old river channel which would take us down to 100 ft fairly quickly. Once he registered it on his computer, we'd do a 180 and return back to the wall of the river bank (approx. 60 ft depth), play along the wall for a bit, then surface. This wall is known for its grottos, some farly large. Viz on this dive was approximately 3 ft with heavy silt.
We dropped down, headed out, dropped over the wall ledge and hit 100 ft fairly soon. We did our 180, heading back to the wall. I was concentrating on my compass due to the somewhat limited viz. Next thing I know, I look up and see rock above me. We'd swam into a grotto not realizing it. After my initial "Oh S_ _ _" moment, I check my air. Ok, plenty of air. I look around for my buddies and see their lights several feet below me. I tried to get their attention with little luck. I was afraid to drop down to where they were in fear of a silt out. I kept my fingers and eyes on the ceiling and began swimming backwards. After what seemed to be an eternity, my fingers found the edge of the grotto and open water. My buddies and I joined up outside the grotto and finished our dive. This experience has effected my diving in that I am now much more aware of my surroundings. Since then, there have been times during dark and deep dives where I become apprehensive, looking overhead for a glimmer of daylight. At that point, it's not fun anymore and I risk becoming a liability to myself and my buddy. I'll ascend to a depth where I feel comfortable and finish the dive. Knowing your limits is one thing. Accepting them is something quite different.
from the sideline!
