Buddy problems

[RhodeDiver]

I went diving with a local club last weekend. I was given an insta-buddy by the club representative because we were both going to hunt for lobsters. I was fine with it seeing its always nice having someone around under the water. Plus we are both legally required to carry our own flags here in Massachusetts while lobstering. (which worked to my advantage)

We started our dive and we were going along when I saw and caught my first lobster of the year. Afterwards I stop at some kelp to put in my bag to keep the lobster safe from his friends if I caught more. My "buddy" swam past me while I was doing this. I go to look for my buddy after that. Gone. I swim in the directions they went in... nothing. I go back to the spot I was at and putter around for a few minutes. nothing. I gave up and went about my dive. It was a nice dive. 61 minutes 52 degrees 20 foot vis, only one lobster tho.

After the dive my "buddy" tells me that they couldn't go look for me at the surface because of problems with their ears. I just nod. I gave up caring about it at that point.

So I do like diving with a buddy but find it super annoying when they just take off. I am comfortable enough to just let them go, because who wants to spend a hour trying to find your buddy 20 time. Just say you don't want a buddy and be done with it.

This isn't the first time something like this has happened to me and I am sure it won't be the last. Every time it has happened it has always been by someone who had to tell me how I should be doing things before the dive.

The one thing I always take away from these incidents is to be able to handle your stuff.

 

[TMHeimer]

Right. Plan all dives as if solo. If deep perhaps carry a pony bottle. Stuff like this maybe happened to me twice, but I have had instabuddies who liked to roam a bit further than I'd like. Nothing you can do, other than like you said, all the pre-dive discussions you've already heard. Some will say only dive with buddies you know and trust, which doesn't work if you don't have one and paid like $100 for a charter. Frustrating, but it is what it is. I've been lucky for the most part.

 

[northernone]

That's frustrating and worrisome for sure. While I like a same ocean style buddy, on the other hand if we've agreed to stick together I don't like the responsibility of chasing them or spend the rest of the dive worrying if they are drowned and I am particularly at fault.

Discussing buddy separation at the start of the dive with an inta buddy (quietly depending on the climate of the dive coat) helps me avoid the hassle. Diving solo also does wonders. ; )

I entirely agree.
Cameron

 

[drrich2]

I went diving with a local club last weekend. I was given an insta-buddy by the club representative because we were both going to hunt for lobsters.

Just say you don't want a buddy and be done with it.

Could you two have done that; simply been left alone to dive solo, or announced you were going to dive solo, and that would've been the end of it?

Richard.

 

[RhodeDiver]

Could you two have done that; simply been left alone to dive solo, or announced you were going to dive solo, and that would've been the end of it?

I could have. This was my first time to that dive site so I thought a buddy would be nice.

 

[WantSomeScuba?]

Your buddy definitely dropped the ball, but situations like that happen all the time, and it sounds like you responded properly. My brother is my best/favorite guy I dive with regularly, and this happens to us once in a blue moon. Granted, he's never full-blown ditched me like (nor have I).

This isn't the first time something like this has happened to me and I am sure it won't be the last. Every time it has happened it has always been by someone who had to tell me how I should be doing things before the dive.

Funny how that works, isn't it?

 

[Birddog1911]

Since I'm newer than you guys, I'll ask. Did you and your buddy discuss lost buddy procedures? You didn't go with standard procedures, so I have to wonder. I'd be disappointed, to say the least, if I had to surface to find a buddy, but at this point, I'm not sure that I'd want to dive solo. I'll be learning to do that later this year.

 

[DevonDiver]

This article I wrote 5 years ago deals with some of the problems... and solutions:

How to Dive with 'Insta-Buddies' - Scuba Tech Philippines

 

[TrimixToo]

The debate about whether having a buddy is safer or not safer than not having a buddy has been raging since I learned to dive, some (-ahem-) time back. I generally dive solo. I have a solo cert, too though it does not cover much of the diving I do as it's intended as a recreational cert and not a technical one.

However, that said, if I agree to buddy up I have a duty to maintain contact with my buddy and my buddy has a duty to maintain contact with me, unless we agree in advance that it's a pairing of convenience only. Anyone that breaks that agreement is probably not worth diving with again.

Just my USD .02.

 

[stretchthepenn]

The story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

The scene:
A 20-foot powerboat, loaded to the gills with people and dive gear, bobs in the gentle Pacific swell three or four miles due south of Long Beach, CA. A red-and-white dive flag droops lazily from the boat’s radio antenna, quietly rustling in the cool, intermittent ocean breeze. Just to the southeast, the Eureka, a gigantic oil drilling platform—a jumble of boxes and pipes atop a massive square steel plate, all perched on enormous steel pylons that descend hundreds of feet to stygian depths where eternal blackness reigns supreme and dig their feet into the bedrock of the continental shelf—looms overhead and casts a murky shadow on the clear, cheerful blue water.

The cast of characters:
Two representatives of a small scuba shop crew the boat; both are experienced rescue divers, divemasters, and scuba instructors. Today, Ron captains the boat, and Wally is the divemaster. Four recently-certified divers—Chuck, Eric, Bryce, and Jack—huddle uncertainly around the piles of scuba gear strewn about their feet.

Eric and Bryce are brothers, whom Chuck accompanied on this trip. Just over two years ago, all three got certified and, within a month, took their AOW class. They dive together a few times a year. Jack is a stranger; he seems to be a brand-new diver, but he talks big. He's a customer of Ron and Wally's dive shop.

Wally sets up the buddy teams: Eric and Bryce are one team, and Chuck and Jack are another.

The action:
Wally lectures Chuck, Eric, and Bryce about the upcoming dive’s profile, while Ron gently motors the powerboat into position and cuts the engine. All forward motion stops, and the ceaseless rocking motion of the waves sends Chuck hurtling beyond the point of no return; he spews the Dramamine-yellow remnants of his greasy doughnut breakfast into the water as the others look on in sympathy. Soon, though, Chuck rallies and joins his companions, who are already donning their gear. Street clothes off, wetsuit on...strap tank to BCD...connect first stage regulator to tank...test purge valves...power up dive computer...spit, rub, and rinse mask...gloves and booties on...weight belt on...BCD on...fins on...and splash! into the 62-degree water they go.

Wally splashes first, followed shortly by Chuck. The sparkling cold refreshes Chuck for a moment, but the open ocean swells heave him up and down as he waits for the other divers to enter, and he feels nauseated again. Eric and Bryce join Chuck in the water, and they half-heartedly attempt to gather near the boat as they wait for Jack, who's taking his sweet time, but the ocean’s rocking is too great, and the three men quickly opt to paddle 40 yards up-current, toward the lee-side eddy created by the Eureka’s northwestern-most pillar, where Wally already awaits them. The three novice divers bob their ungainly way across the rolling, open water into the sheltered spot.

A few minutes later, Jack paddles over and joins the group. Wally then makes a quick head count and reminds the assembled group of the planned dive profile before he stuffs his second-stage regulator between his lips and gives the thumbs down signal—time to descend!

Five mouths grip five regulators as, in unison, five left hands grasp BCD power inflator hoses and lift them skyward. Five left thumbs depress spring-loaded buttons on the hoses’ ends. Air whistles out of five BCDs, and each diver dips below the surface feet-first, trails of silver bubbles streaming from his inflator tube as he slips beneath the waves. At 6-to-10 feet underwater, Wally inverts himself, points his head southeast and downward, and begins kicking gently, accelerating his rate of descent and heading for the northeastern edge of the oil platform. The other divers imitate him, and Chuck forgets his nausea as he directs his gaze downward, goggling at the eerie forest of scallop- and anemone-encrusted steel trees that rise out of the inky blackness and the multitudes of sheepshead and other reef fish swarming around the rig's enormous legs. His mind is nearly blown by the incredible visibility alone—at least a hundred feet...

The group hangs together, each diver slowly kicking against the gentle current as he descends. But their angle of descent is crazy...and their rate of kicking increases; they're going faster and faster. Wally is simply rocketing downward. Chuck equalizes his ears with a mighty squeeeeee-pop! Down, down, down... Suddenly, without warning, at 50 feet under, Jack stops and goes vertical. He points his head skyward, pauses for a moment...and mashes his power inflator button. Compressed air flashes into Jack’s BCD, creating enormous positive buoyancy, and Chuck watches in disbelief as his insta-buddy Jack rockets to the surface, trailing fine bubbles in a turbulent wake.

Wally seems unconcerned about Jack's hasty ascent. The descent continues, and the dive goes on as planned: start at 100 feet, transit north-to-south while ascending to 60 feet, then return north through the center alley of interconnected pylons at 60 feet.

The remaining four divers—DM Wally; triple-group of Chuck, Eric, and Bryce—make their way across the Eureka's underside, the three recreational divers goggling in amazement at the sights. But on the other side, they see something odd...a lone diver. At 70 feet underwater. Slowly drifting away, out into the open ocean. Oh...it's Jack.

Jack rejoins the group, and everyone transits south-to-north, as planned. Back on the boat, Ron and Wally seem highly amused by Jack's impromptu solo excursion and cheerfully allow him back into the water for the day's second dive.

Chuck is pissed.