Better than

  

After what seems like an age, the boat slows, the roar of its engine softens to a hum, and we begin to slip over the waves as though they were made of silk. The boat stops, and with a rattle, the anchor is released.

We are here. This is it.

The Captain gives the dive briefing while the students scramble with gear and commence buddy checks.  Everyone is at a different stage of gearing up.  The Dive Masters race around adjusting equipment, answering questions and calming the student’s nerves.

Dive Buddy Sue and I flip-flop towards the end of the boat in our neon yellow fins, lurching awkwardly in our heavy gear with every passing wave. We reach the back end of the boat and hesitate, looking at the mysterious dark blue water below.

“Come on! It's as good as sex!” Dive Master Dan shouts.

We look at each other, leap off the boat and hit the water with a splash.  I go down briefly, then surface. Signaling "OK!" to the captain, I look for Sue. She is there, bobbing around like a cork in the waves, spluttering out salty water, just as I am.  

Treading water furiously, I struggle up, gasping for air.

I'm not high enough in the water, I think, panicking.  Then the irony sets in, I’m not here to float, I’m here to sink! I reach back to my regulator, pop it in my mouth, and air flows. DM Dan signals “DOWN”. I release the air from my vest, and together Sue and I sink from sight.

Down, down, down into the murky blue. I check my gauge: one meter, two meters, five.  My heart thuds  in my chest.  The noise my regulator makes when I draw air is frighteningly loud. Six meters, eight, ten.  

Like a polaroid, a labyrinthine reefscape emerges below.

Everywhere I look, there is activity, life, colour.  Anemones wave their tentacles in the current.  Angelfish play hide and seek amongst the corals. A scarlet coral trout slinks through a crevice, looking for its lunch.  A batfish hangs motionless while a pair of tiny, iridescent blue, cleaner fish pick parasites off its gills.  Hovering overhead like birds in the sky, a shoal of rainbow coloured fish feed on plankton. This is heaven.

Stock photo

Sue and I complete our buoyancy checks and set off exploring the limestone reef maze of the dive site.  We swim towards a coral bommie encrusted with colourful Christmas tree worms. As we get closer they snap their “fronds” shut, only to cautiously unfurl in an umbrella like motion, moments later.

Stock photo

Stock photo

We pass the 1,000 year old giant plate coral mentioned in the dive briefing. I wonder how many individual coral polyps would have lived and died to have built up such an ancient and magnificent structure? Hopefully the coral will last for future centuries and not be destroyed by climate change, a carelessly cast anchor or the completely tasteless underwater graffiti that you sometimes see. Even the marine environment is not immune to vandalism, it would seem.

DM Dan wriggles his index fingers above his head, making a signal I don't know.  "ALIEN", I wonder? He signals “LOOK” and then points at a nearby shelf in the reef wall. I move closer. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.  There, in the darkest corner are two shy little crayfish, their antennae twitching and their eyes darting nervously.

Finally, moving over to a sandbar, DM Dan signals “STOP”, and pulls out his underwater slate.  Playtime over, we complete our underwater assessment tasks: mask removal, retrieval and clearing, weight removal and retrieval.  Removing one's mask and replacing it at the bottom of the ocean is the decisive line between the scuba wannabes and the scuba can-dos.  Happily, neither Sue nor I flip out during the mask removal process and DM Dan is pleased to pass us both.

With dive time and air in limited supply, DM Dan signals that we must now farewell this magical world, for now. With a heavy heart, I start my ascent up the anchor line.   

Up we go, carefully, slowly. Twelve meters. Ten. Eight. Five. Diver Dan signals “STOP” and “WAIT”. We complete the  three minute safety stop to let the majority of the excess nitrogen out of our bodies, and then continue up to the shimmering surface above.

Leaving behind the silent but bustling underwater city, the noise of the terrestrial world explodes in my ears as I break the surface. 

I scramble onto the boat and  am overwhelmed with the weight of the gear, the exhaustion of the swim, and the exhilaration of experiencing another world.  Around me, the boat is abuzz with the chatter of the other open water students who had just completed their first ever dive, honoured to have explored a part of the planet that so many can't.

DM Dan was right when he said the day we did our first ocean dive would be the best in our lives.  I came here to get this diving thing “out of my system” and then to move on, be responsible, own a house, build my career, have a family.

I can no longer deny my calling to explore the marine world.

Doing this gives me the greatest sense of fulfilment. This has to be an ongoing part of my life. I just hope that I have the courage to make the changes in order to make this possible.