Once I was asked to tell a tail, gather round for a frightening true story.
I owned a small beach dive shop in Grenada back in the early 90's, and was doing lots and lots of diving. So much diving, in fact, that I had come up with my optimal dive gear; a 3 mm suit - full legs and arms, not a shorty, a Sea Quest Explorer BCD, no pockets, only an octo clip, and a small whistle by Dacor. Thats it.
My reg was a Dacor 360 xlt and an Aero octo, and a set of Sherwood gages with a Wekona knife on the back. I had two computers, a Dacor Micro Brain Pro Plus and a Skinny Dipper.
The gages tucked into the cummerbund of my BCD, My octo clip was across my chest, and this is how I went diving every day - 3 times a day, most days - for 3 yrs.
I figured I was pretty clever and did not need the clutter of a snorkel. I always dived in the shelter of Grenada, and always with a good boat driver who could follow bubbles. He was always exactly where I wanted him, even when we did not use a buoy. When I dove the away trips to Isle Du Rhone, which was found by Andre Patterson and myself (bragging rights, don't ya know,) we used a SMB (surface marker buoy.)
I was BSAC trained and we always had a snorkel in the knife strap - never on the mask, where it could get caught. Around 1988 I started my PADI cross-over, and wore a snorkel on my mask for some time thereafter, but it never got caught
...
One particular Sunday, I went to do a private dive to the Bianca C. We were to be on the wreck early to get some nice pictures and a dive along the wall/reef and out in time for our 10 am dive. Extra dives for the photographer, and a little change for me too.
All was going great until I asked for the SMB and was told by Rod (my rasta boat driver) that we had dropped a weight belt on it and it had a hole in it. I was dressed and so was the paying customer, so I said I would dive with out it. BIG HUGE MISTAKE # ONE.
The dive went off without a hitch. We had a great dive, saw a couple of big eagle rays, a few small sharks on the wreck, a turtle on the reef, and we both had a lobster to take back. Great dive.
On the surface, however, we were not so lucky. At around 15 ft, we had a current running. It was going off island at 3-4 knots. I had, by now, gotten to 500 psi ish and was ready to come up. We both surfaced, and the current had pushed my buddy and me 1/2 mile away from our usual exit point. BIG MISTAKE # TWO. I was looking at the boat waving and shouting at Rod while he was searching where we should have been. A Dive Alert MIGHT have stopped this incident there, but (a) I did not have one and (b) the wind was coming directly at our faces.
By the time I had faced the fact that I had screwed up, I was over a mile out. I grabbed my buddy and told him I was a scared, and that I was not going to let him out my sight. I started to swim into shore. Almost immediately I was aware that to do this we would have to swim hard and across the current. By now, (5/10 minutes had passed,) it was clear that to make the island of Grenada we would have to aim at the little island off the shore on the Atlantic side (South,) as there was no way we would make the inland side. We angled at the island and were making headway, and when we saw the sail of a Moorings Beneteau 42 coming at us, we thought we were saved. We both started to shout and wave and carry on. I began to blow my whistle, but to no avail.
When I turned to find my buddy, he was gone. The sea at this point was a good 4 to 6 ft and I was in a controlled panic. I had lost my buddy, and I was starting to hurt from all the rubbing and such of swimming. I looked around for my buddy and saw something further out. I had vowed to not die alone, so I kicked after him. As it was, I caught up fairly quickly, about 5 mins of swimming, only to find it was not a person, but a black plastic bag.
I decided then to get rid of my cylinder, a nice steel 85. I had been in the water for an hour by this point, and I was getting tired, so I took off my BCD and dumped the cylinder, keeping the reg and computer. I checked my position, by now a long way off shore and decided to rest, sitting on my BCD. I had swallowed so much salt water that I was feeling sick, so I rested for 10 mins and decided that I would swim for a hour and rest for 5 mins. Thats when I noticed that I had lost my regs. Bugger. I used the time to write a note to my sons on the plastic lens of the gauge with my knife thats how sure I was that I was a goner.
I started to swim back toward the land. I could see the moorings entrance as a straight shot into the docks. Later, I found this to be about 15 miles out to sea.
After what seemed to be forever, the swim started to get a little easier and for a short time the current stopped. As we know, its what is called slack water, and I made some decent headway back into shore, but by now someone should have been looking for me or so I thought! (Rod was so worried that he had not gone in or radioed for help until wed been in the water for 2 hours.)
I had been in the water for about 5 hrs at this point, and was, to say the least, very tired. I had seen two boats - one came within 25 yards of me, but I could not get their attention. I was too small a target, and sea to big. Besides which, the wind was always against me.
I wanted to get to the small island, so I was swimming toward it and resting for short periods, but the current was taking me in the wrong direction. By hour 6, I was burnt and sore, my mouth was so very dry, and I could not make any moisture in my mouth. I had read about not drinking salt water, and was doing my best to avoid it, but I was doing so involuntary anyway.
It was not looking good for me. I thought my fortune was about to change when a big motor cruiser came by. It was so close that I could see the steward serving drinks to a couple on the deck, but they never saw me, so I continued to swim. I noticed that my view of the island was different now. I could see St Georges, but the Moorings was obscured from my viewing angle. I could not see the construction of the new La Source hotel, but I was going back toward the island. I had to keep on trying to get to shore. By this time, I was in tears about the fact I had lost my buddy, and berating myself over the fact that it would not have happened if I had taken one of the fenders off the boat to use as a SMB, but at that point, I was doing all I could to survive myself.
At about hour 7, I saw a small airplane to the North of me. He was low, and seemed to be searching, but was not in my area, and his circles were to my North. I swam on, wishing for some relief. It gets dark around 6.30, and the lights go on in St Georges around 5.45. I had been out there for 8 hrs, and I was starting to worry about being out at night with no light at all. Just about then, I was under the flight path of the big planes into and out of the airport. I looked up to see an American Airlines plane above me with its gear down. I was thrilled to think that I was going back, but I was still so far out.
I was having a few dark thoughts, as I sat on my BCD, and as I looked around, I saw a small boat going toward St Georges. I took off my fin and blew and waved for all I was worth. I cant express the thrill I felt when I saw him turn in toward me. As it turned out, by that time there was a huge search (by Grenada standards) going on, and my buddy had made land fall some hours earlier. I was dragged on board by Andre Patterson and my good friend Daddy-O.
I spent many weeks out of the water. I had lost a lot of skin from my neck, groin, legs and feet. Id ingested so much saltwater that I was anemic. All the guys who came out to look for me filled up with gas at the marina, and the two small planes cost a huge amount. The local coast guard came out, but ran out of gas about 200 yards outside their base.
My buddy was lucky enough to have followed the plan. He swam in, then took his stuff off and climbed up and onto the runway of the airport. I was so pleased to hear he was ok and alive.
The lessons I learned were to ALWAYS use a SMB whenever diving off the boat in a current, the snorkel is NOT useless, and that mirrors, air horns, personal flare packs and come-to-me sausages are far from silly things. Most of all, however, I learned that I was not half as clever as Id previously thought I was. The ocean has the ability to change very quickly and has no respect for any scuba agency.
the reason I use one is the raising and lowering of my head lost my skin 
