I went diving today with the friend who got certified after me. You guys have read about two of our previous attempts to dive together: The one where I couldn't get enough weight on her to get her down, and the one we didn't do because she forgot one of her gloves.
Well, today we actually dove. In all honesty, we had done some diving together during our recent vacation in Maui, and she had done great, including diving the back wall at Molokini (fairly shallow, but still . . . ). But of course, that was warm, clear water in a wetsuit and almost no weight. I warned her that she would come home and get in the water here and feel as though she had learned nothing, and she did a dive with a class she's taking last weekend and it did not go well.
And today did not go very well, either. She managed her descent, but once we were down, I could tell she was having a lot of difficulty getting and staying neutral. As long as we were deep, it was fine, but coming up, she corked once, and then at the end of the dive, ended up with air in her drysuit boots and an attempted foot-first ascent.
I watched all of this, did what I could underwater to help, and felt impotent and frustrated. I don't KNOW how I solved these problems. I know I had them (although I never went feet first) and I know I don't have them any more. But I remember the pain and humiliation of diving with someone and feeling as though I had ruined their dive because of my inability to manage very simple things, like staying underwater.
You can say, "Anticipate your buoyancy changes; watch your depth, vent early and often; If your feet go up, either swim down and up or do a somersault." But actually IMPLEMENTING that advice is so hard when your brain is overloaded with just being where you are, trying to see, trying to stay with your buddy, etc.
Maybe it's just dues you have to pay. But I sure wish I knew how to make it less painful. I didn't enjoy that phase of my diving career very much, and I know she isn't enjoying it, either.
Well, today we actually dove. In all honesty, we had done some diving together during our recent vacation in Maui, and she had done great, including diving the back wall at Molokini (fairly shallow, but still . . . ). But of course, that was warm, clear water in a wetsuit and almost no weight. I warned her that she would come home and get in the water here and feel as though she had learned nothing, and she did a dive with a class she's taking last weekend and it did not go well.
And today did not go very well, either. She managed her descent, but once we were down, I could tell she was having a lot of difficulty getting and staying neutral. As long as we were deep, it was fine, but coming up, she corked once, and then at the end of the dive, ended up with air in her drysuit boots and an attempted foot-first ascent.
I watched all of this, did what I could underwater to help, and felt impotent and frustrated. I don't KNOW how I solved these problems. I know I had them (although I never went feet first) and I know I don't have them any more. But I remember the pain and humiliation of diving with someone and feeling as though I had ruined their dive because of my inability to manage very simple things, like staying underwater.
You can say, "Anticipate your buoyancy changes; watch your depth, vent early and often; If your feet go up, either swim down and up or do a somersault." But actually IMPLEMENTING that advice is so hard when your brain is overloaded with just being where you are, trying to see, trying to stay with your buddy, etc.
Maybe it's just dues you have to pay. But I sure wish I knew how to make it less painful. I didn't enjoy that phase of my diving career very much, and I know she isn't enjoying it, either.
