mojokelt
Guest
Hi all. I'm new to the board but I thought I would share an incident of my own with everyone to illustrate some lessons I have learned.
I have been diving in Ireland since June of 2006. My open water training was not good... in fact it was almost criminal. For $600 my open water instructor had us make three swimming pool dives and two open water... (I won't say 'dives' because we just descended did some skills then surfaced.) For the PADI professionals that are viewing this we did the CESA (Controlled Emergency Swimming Ascent) as a group of three students (two of us without guidance from the instructor) and we were also left floating in the open Atlantic for ten minutes by ourselves while the instructor exited the water and adjusted his equipment. Skills we did not perform at any point during the 'course' included free-flowing regulator, equipment de-kit or re-kit, any of the water 'stamina' skills, e.g. the distance swim or water tread. We dive in cold water where free-flowing regulators are common yet my instructor felt that I did not need this skill...
To cut a long story short, I complained to PADI (UK) who currently feel this individual is fit to teach despite numerous shocking practices being brought to their attention. In the meantime I was helped by a friend who was also a PADI instructor (he was not actively teaching at that time). I am now about to be a trainee rescue diver with an occasional thought of turning to the dark side... (GUE!) I am in no rush, however, and feel that I need to do a lot more dives before I extend my diving limits.
After spending most of the summer diving (currently 60+ logged dives in various conditions and depths, including dives in 38 degree water in a quarry!) we met up with a former student of the above dodgy instructor who had been doing a PADI dive master internship.
Now qualfied as a dive master we assumed that she was a reasonably competent diver. The plan was to go to a local wreck, situated in a sheltered sound, and do a night dive. The site was very well known to all of us, most of us have 20+ dives on it. An easy dive for beginners, a line actually leads out from shore to the stern of the wreck. We have several enjoyable night dives on this wreck;(See http://www.flickr.com/photos/seadonkeys/sets/72157594234019746/ http://www.divernet.com/cgi-bin/articles.pl?id=1294§ion=1026&action=display&show=)
We kitted up and entered the water. As the DM (my buddy for this dive) and I waded into the water I made sure to stop her and do a thorough buddy check. She seemed quite confident and made light of it, as if it was not necessary.
I drew a small diagram of the wreck on my wrist slate and suggested that we follow our standard route for this dive; from the line we would fin across the stern to the starboard side, through a short swim through to see if the conger eel (who lives behind the bath) was home, then forward to the bow. We would follow the bow around and travel down the outside of the wreck on the port side until we came back to the line. Back up the line and a safety stop at 5m.
At this point I suggested she turn on her torch. "I haven't got one. I've never done a night dive." came the reply. Thinking more about the dive than anything I handed her my main torch and took out my back-up. I was uneasy, but I figured that she had been diving a lot longer than I and she was also more qualified. I figured she knew what she was doing. In fact I thought she was going to be wary of my beginner's techniques and resent being with a newbie.
We went into the water, descended to the line and made our way to the wreck.
Ok, so far I'm sure most of you have spotted most of the things that really should have stopped us going in the water. Unfortunately I cannot defend myself because I was just so eager to get in the water I disregarded most of the signs that had 'Disaster' written all over them. Now they seem so obvious...
As we followed the line to the boat she seemed to be having a lot of trouble with her buoyancy. Every few metres (yards) I would stop and signal "OK?" the reply was "OK!". On the stern of the wreck we paused for a few moments as the rest of the group had kicked up some silt. Again: "OK?", "OK!"
I signaled for us to stick close together as we started to fin across the stern. Suddenly my buddy swam off in a completely different direction. I chased after her and stopped her. I pointed in the right direction and motioned for her to come with me.
Just then my heart pounded - My backup light flickered... then it went out. As I thumped it to see if I could make it work I took my eyes off my buddy for a second or two. In that second she kicked strongly and finned away from the wreck. As I looked up she was gone...
I was alone in the sound with a 150" foot wreck somewhere out in the darkness and no light. None.
Not many people truly know what it is to feel utter darkness and utter loneliness.... I certainly hope few people experience the feelings I felt at that moment.
As I felt the panic begin to rise I remembered what I had heard lots of divers say: "If you have plenty of air, and you're breathing then you have time..." I decided that I would not panic, not yet.
I'm not sure what I did next was the correct thing to do but...
I descended very slowly and eventually touched the bottom, 21m (70"). I reached for my luminescent gauges. As I did so I noticed that as my hand moved through the water the plankton would glow - quite a show. I had plenty of air so I decided to wait where I was for the time being.
I waited for what seemed like both an eternity and a second. The plan was to wait for a while to see if there would be a search. If not, I would slowly ascend to the surface with as much control as possible. Having a plan pushed away any thoughts of panic - I almost enjoyed the strangeness of the experience. (Almost - I'm not that crazy!) I would occasionally wave my hand to ensure my eys were still working and I tried to keep myself upright by feeling my bubbles pass upwards past my face. Touching the bottom meant that gravity also helped me keep my vertical orientation.
In the distance I thought I saw a glow. No, my eyes must be playing tricks. Wait, there it is again! Almost as if I could not believe my eyes, I began to move forward towards the glow. The closer I got, the brighter. I kept moving slowly forward. As it approached directly in front of me it stopped. Cautiously - I still could not see the wreck and did not know where it was - I moved directly for the light. When I got within a few feet I realised that it was definitely a diver. I swam slowly up to meet the light and scared the heck out of my friend Lee as my ugly face appeared out of nowhere in front of him!
After a hurried conference hanging on to the wreck, we performed a quick search then headed straight for the line. After our safety stop we surfaced to find my buddy calmly smoking a cigarette having gotten changed and packed away her kit. As we left the water she refused to talk about the incident or even acknowledge that anything unusual had happened. As a group we talked this incident over for weeks but the DM never said one word about it to me.
So many things went wrong that we could not ignore the near disaster. Suffice to say that we, as a group, are a LOT more strict about EVERYTHING. I survived a potentially terrifying experience and have learned so much. Hindsight is a wonderful way to look at something but it doesn't help at the time. We can only hope to learn the lessons it shows us.
Dive safe.
Tom
I have been diving in Ireland since June of 2006. My open water training was not good... in fact it was almost criminal. For $600 my open water instructor had us make three swimming pool dives and two open water... (I won't say 'dives' because we just descended did some skills then surfaced.) For the PADI professionals that are viewing this we did the CESA (Controlled Emergency Swimming Ascent) as a group of three students (two of us without guidance from the instructor) and we were also left floating in the open Atlantic for ten minutes by ourselves while the instructor exited the water and adjusted his equipment. Skills we did not perform at any point during the 'course' included free-flowing regulator, equipment de-kit or re-kit, any of the water 'stamina' skills, e.g. the distance swim or water tread. We dive in cold water where free-flowing regulators are common yet my instructor felt that I did not need this skill...
To cut a long story short, I complained to PADI (UK) who currently feel this individual is fit to teach despite numerous shocking practices being brought to their attention. In the meantime I was helped by a friend who was also a PADI instructor (he was not actively teaching at that time). I am now about to be a trainee rescue diver with an occasional thought of turning to the dark side... (GUE!) I am in no rush, however, and feel that I need to do a lot more dives before I extend my diving limits.
After spending most of the summer diving (currently 60+ logged dives in various conditions and depths, including dives in 38 degree water in a quarry!) we met up with a former student of the above dodgy instructor who had been doing a PADI dive master internship.
Now qualfied as a dive master we assumed that she was a reasonably competent diver. The plan was to go to a local wreck, situated in a sheltered sound, and do a night dive. The site was very well known to all of us, most of us have 20+ dives on it. An easy dive for beginners, a line actually leads out from shore to the stern of the wreck. We have several enjoyable night dives on this wreck;(See http://www.flickr.com/photos/seadonkeys/sets/72157594234019746/ http://www.divernet.com/cgi-bin/articles.pl?id=1294§ion=1026&action=display&show=)
We kitted up and entered the water. As the DM (my buddy for this dive) and I waded into the water I made sure to stop her and do a thorough buddy check. She seemed quite confident and made light of it, as if it was not necessary.
I drew a small diagram of the wreck on my wrist slate and suggested that we follow our standard route for this dive; from the line we would fin across the stern to the starboard side, through a short swim through to see if the conger eel (who lives behind the bath) was home, then forward to the bow. We would follow the bow around and travel down the outside of the wreck on the port side until we came back to the line. Back up the line and a safety stop at 5m.
At this point I suggested she turn on her torch. "I haven't got one. I've never done a night dive." came the reply. Thinking more about the dive than anything I handed her my main torch and took out my back-up. I was uneasy, but I figured that she had been diving a lot longer than I and she was also more qualified. I figured she knew what she was doing. In fact I thought she was going to be wary of my beginner's techniques and resent being with a newbie.
We went into the water, descended to the line and made our way to the wreck.
Ok, so far I'm sure most of you have spotted most of the things that really should have stopped us going in the water. Unfortunately I cannot defend myself because I was just so eager to get in the water I disregarded most of the signs that had 'Disaster' written all over them. Now they seem so obvious...
As we followed the line to the boat she seemed to be having a lot of trouble with her buoyancy. Every few metres (yards) I would stop and signal "OK?" the reply was "OK!". On the stern of the wreck we paused for a few moments as the rest of the group had kicked up some silt. Again: "OK?", "OK!"
I signaled for us to stick close together as we started to fin across the stern. Suddenly my buddy swam off in a completely different direction. I chased after her and stopped her. I pointed in the right direction and motioned for her to come with me.
Just then my heart pounded - My backup light flickered... then it went out. As I thumped it to see if I could make it work I took my eyes off my buddy for a second or two. In that second she kicked strongly and finned away from the wreck. As I looked up she was gone...
I was alone in the sound with a 150" foot wreck somewhere out in the darkness and no light. None.
Not many people truly know what it is to feel utter darkness and utter loneliness.... I certainly hope few people experience the feelings I felt at that moment.
As I felt the panic begin to rise I remembered what I had heard lots of divers say: "If you have plenty of air, and you're breathing then you have time..." I decided that I would not panic, not yet.
I'm not sure what I did next was the correct thing to do but...
I descended very slowly and eventually touched the bottom, 21m (70"). I reached for my luminescent gauges. As I did so I noticed that as my hand moved through the water the plankton would glow - quite a show. I had plenty of air so I decided to wait where I was for the time being.
I waited for what seemed like both an eternity and a second. The plan was to wait for a while to see if there would be a search. If not, I would slowly ascend to the surface with as much control as possible. Having a plan pushed away any thoughts of panic - I almost enjoyed the strangeness of the experience. (Almost - I'm not that crazy!) I would occasionally wave my hand to ensure my eys were still working and I tried to keep myself upright by feeling my bubbles pass upwards past my face. Touching the bottom meant that gravity also helped me keep my vertical orientation.
In the distance I thought I saw a glow. No, my eyes must be playing tricks. Wait, there it is again! Almost as if I could not believe my eyes, I began to move forward towards the glow. The closer I got, the brighter. I kept moving slowly forward. As it approached directly in front of me it stopped. Cautiously - I still could not see the wreck and did not know where it was - I moved directly for the light. When I got within a few feet I realised that it was definitely a diver. I swam slowly up to meet the light and scared the heck out of my friend Lee as my ugly face appeared out of nowhere in front of him!
After a hurried conference hanging on to the wreck, we performed a quick search then headed straight for the line. After our safety stop we surfaced to find my buddy calmly smoking a cigarette having gotten changed and packed away her kit. As we left the water she refused to talk about the incident or even acknowledge that anything unusual had happened. As a group we talked this incident over for weeks but the DM never said one word about it to me.
So many things went wrong that we could not ignore the near disaster. Suffice to say that we, as a group, are a LOT more strict about EVERYTHING. I survived a potentially terrifying experience and have learned so much. Hindsight is a wonderful way to look at something but it doesn't help at the time. We can only hope to learn the lessons it shows us.
Dive safe.
Tom
