Rooster In Ohio
Registered
My favorite dive buddy, my wife, has been resurrected as a diver and I share this story to express my appreciation and to offer hope so that others in similar straights might share our experience.
My wife and I received PADI OW and AOW in successive years from the same instructor in Cancun, Mexico. We didn’t do any research about certifying agencies or specific instructors but we got lucky – our instructor was exceptionally patient and attentive and the two of us were the only ones in the class each year. We took several additional dives each year, including night dives and side trips to the Cenotes and Cozumel the second year. We are avid boaters living on Lake Erie and decided it would make sense to get drysuit certified so we could comfortably dive and practice skills locally during the intervals between our trips to warmer climates. So I signed us up for drysuit training through a LDS. I didn’t think to interview the instructor or discuss our diving history – all that was asked was our respective level of certification. Things pretty much went downhill from there.
We read the book, watched the video, and showed up for class. The class consisted of four students – the two of us (18 dives each), a woman with 500+ dives, and a fireman that was not yet OW certified. The instructor was fine – he seemed very competent and walked us through the talking points from memory. Then it was off to the pool for about an hour to check off the required pool skills. We both left the pool thinking the open water portion wouldn’t be that bad.
We took the open water portion in a local quarry. Neither of us had ever been in a quarry - we didn’t know what a platform was. With the exception of night or cenotes dives, we had never experienced low viz. Significantly, neither of us had ever worn a hood or insulating gloves when diving. We had a different instructor. The dives took place late on a Sunday afternoon in July after a full weekend of use by many dive schools and viz was 10-15 feet at the platform. It was 5 feet or less at the thermocline. You can probably guess where this is going…
My wife had difficulty from the beginning - after the fact, we determined that the gloves and hood made her feel extremely claustrophobic and she felt rushed. She had a lot of difficulty equalizing on her first descent and that only exacerbated the stress she was experiencing from the claustrophobia. She overcame the stress, and we descended to the platform – the two of us, the new instructor, and a DM. We each performed the necessary skills at the platform and then ascended to perform the surface skills. The surface skills were exceedingly difficult for her – discussing it afterward, she attributed it to the culmination of building stress (she also later determined that the claustrophobia only manifests on the surface but not while submerged) – but she was able to check the box.
The second dive brought the addition of the fireman that had been in our class. It is not clear to me why he only participated in the second dive – the only skill is to remove and replace the suit inflator. I had understood from the very short dive brief that we were going to submerge, remove and replace the inflator, then swim around the platform for a few minutes before calling the dive. The descent went much better for my wife and she was easily able to remove and replace her inflator while wearing gloves. After we all did the skill, the instructor made motion for us to follow him and pointed to the fireman, then me, then my wife, and finally the DM. Off we went in single file (not buddy teams). I was barely able to keep the white tips of the instructor’s fins in view and kept checking over my shoulder for my buddy. Apparently the purpose of the swim was to work on buoyancy and it led to a suspended square in the corner of the quarry which we were supposed to swim through one at a time. Reaching the corner led to some confusion and bunching up with lots of silting. We then set out along the wall. That’s when things really went bad.
Moving along the wall stirred up silt and deteriorated viz to 3-5 feet. I looked over my shoulder and didn’t see my wife so I grabbed the fireman, stopped him, and waited. After a minute or so she appeared with the DM by her side. The instructor then motioned for us to start out again along the wall. Within seconds, my wife disappeared and I again grabbed the fireman. The instructor circled back and I gave him the missing buddy sign. I checked my computer and, a minute having passed since I saw her, I thumbed the dive. He shook his head and motioned for me to stay put. I again tumbed and he again shook his head and motioned for me to stay put (did I mention that divers have drowned in this quarry?). I was at wits end and sucking gas at an incredible rate when she finally appeared some 3-4 minutes later, at which time I took hold of her BC and thumbed again. This time he gave me the “safety stop” sign and I replied “OK” (dive time was about 24 minutes and average depth was something less than 35’
. We ascended to 15’, waited 3 minutes, surfaced, and surface swam to the entrance point. She was shattered and I was mad as hell.
After cooling down a bit, I sat down with the instructor and asked why he would stop me from surfacing in a missing diver situation when a minute had elapsed and viz was near-zero. His response was that he had to balance his responsibility to the other diver as we would all have to surface and that the DM was undoubtedly looking for her and would be confused if looking for us after we surfaced (in fact, she had surfaced in complete frustration and the DM talked her into descending). I looked him in the eye and told him I didn’t give a flying **** about his other student or his need to balance anything in view of a missing diver – especially when it was my wife. He responded that he would not have physically stopped me if I decided to ascend and then signed each of our training certificates. We drove off sure that we would never dive together again.
A few days after this I contacted Jim Lapenta based on some comments he made to someone who had posted dissatisfaction with her drysuit training. I expressed my concerns as I saw them and asked if he had any thoughts. He responded with significantly different observations, several of them focusing on my lack of real buddy skills. I sat down with my wife and asked her if she was willing to give it another try and she was. This time it was going to be different.
The first thing I did differently was to interview the instructor. I had already been impressed by comments Jim had made on this forum and those impressions were confirmed in our emails and telephone conversations. But talk is one thing and doing is another so I arranged to observe him while he instructed another student. This led to 7 dives at a different quarry while my wife was out of town. I observed Jim to be patient, thorough, and dedicated to teaching to standard as opposed to time. One thing that stuck out to me was his philosophy – that he needed any diver he trained to be sufficiently competent to serve as buddy to one of his loved ones on a similar skill level dive before he would issue a card. I observed this during that weekend and told my wife that we had found someone that was both willing and able to help both of us both with the drysuit and with our buddy skills.
The first step was for him to talk me into buying his book for new divers. I thought $20 was pretty cheap as far as diving books go. My wife’s comment after reading it was “why didn’t I get to read this earlier”. Then it was off to Pittsburgh (Go Browns) for 3 hours of classroom followed by 3 hours of pool in the drysuit. Pool time is conducted off the knees with 100% commitment to buddy skills (no circles here – everything is 2 x 2). Three hours later, my wife was eager to get back in open water and we both had a much better understanding of how to work as a buddy team.
The next day was another quarry – this one with an average depth of 15 feet, lots of vegetation, and a very soft bottom. The result was predictable – very difficult buoyancy and complete siltout conditions. Complete silt while we ran a line. Complete silt while we moved on line through dense vegetation. Complete silt while we looked for silly little blasting holes in rocks. Complete silt while we looked for fish two inches in front of our masks. What was not predictable was what emerged – solid touch buddy skills, even buoyancy, confidence and a renewed excitement in drysuit diving with her husband. She is already planning dives for October and November this year so we won’t have more than two months off before we head back to Mexico!
I thought a lot before writing this. I originally wanted to flame the original shop and instructor, both for failing to understand our needs and for what I consider to be a truly unsafe act in a missing diver situation. But after taking instruction from Jim, I realize that the shortfalls were mine – that I need to interview any instructor and choose one that teaches to standard and not to time (or the minimum boxes to be checked). I’ve found such an instructor and would be happy to recommend Jim Lapenta to anyone who might be in a similar situation.
R/S,
David Black
My wife and I received PADI OW and AOW in successive years from the same instructor in Cancun, Mexico. We didn’t do any research about certifying agencies or specific instructors but we got lucky – our instructor was exceptionally patient and attentive and the two of us were the only ones in the class each year. We took several additional dives each year, including night dives and side trips to the Cenotes and Cozumel the second year. We are avid boaters living on Lake Erie and decided it would make sense to get drysuit certified so we could comfortably dive and practice skills locally during the intervals between our trips to warmer climates. So I signed us up for drysuit training through a LDS. I didn’t think to interview the instructor or discuss our diving history – all that was asked was our respective level of certification. Things pretty much went downhill from there.
We read the book, watched the video, and showed up for class. The class consisted of four students – the two of us (18 dives each), a woman with 500+ dives, and a fireman that was not yet OW certified. The instructor was fine – he seemed very competent and walked us through the talking points from memory. Then it was off to the pool for about an hour to check off the required pool skills. We both left the pool thinking the open water portion wouldn’t be that bad.
We took the open water portion in a local quarry. Neither of us had ever been in a quarry - we didn’t know what a platform was. With the exception of night or cenotes dives, we had never experienced low viz. Significantly, neither of us had ever worn a hood or insulating gloves when diving. We had a different instructor. The dives took place late on a Sunday afternoon in July after a full weekend of use by many dive schools and viz was 10-15 feet at the platform. It was 5 feet or less at the thermocline. You can probably guess where this is going…
My wife had difficulty from the beginning - after the fact, we determined that the gloves and hood made her feel extremely claustrophobic and she felt rushed. She had a lot of difficulty equalizing on her first descent and that only exacerbated the stress she was experiencing from the claustrophobia. She overcame the stress, and we descended to the platform – the two of us, the new instructor, and a DM. We each performed the necessary skills at the platform and then ascended to perform the surface skills. The surface skills were exceedingly difficult for her – discussing it afterward, she attributed it to the culmination of building stress (she also later determined that the claustrophobia only manifests on the surface but not while submerged) – but she was able to check the box.
The second dive brought the addition of the fireman that had been in our class. It is not clear to me why he only participated in the second dive – the only skill is to remove and replace the suit inflator. I had understood from the very short dive brief that we were going to submerge, remove and replace the inflator, then swim around the platform for a few minutes before calling the dive. The descent went much better for my wife and she was easily able to remove and replace her inflator while wearing gloves. After we all did the skill, the instructor made motion for us to follow him and pointed to the fireman, then me, then my wife, and finally the DM. Off we went in single file (not buddy teams). I was barely able to keep the white tips of the instructor’s fins in view and kept checking over my shoulder for my buddy. Apparently the purpose of the swim was to work on buoyancy and it led to a suspended square in the corner of the quarry which we were supposed to swim through one at a time. Reaching the corner led to some confusion and bunching up with lots of silting. We then set out along the wall. That’s when things really went bad.
Moving along the wall stirred up silt and deteriorated viz to 3-5 feet. I looked over my shoulder and didn’t see my wife so I grabbed the fireman, stopped him, and waited. After a minute or so she appeared with the DM by her side. The instructor then motioned for us to start out again along the wall. Within seconds, my wife disappeared and I again grabbed the fireman. The instructor circled back and I gave him the missing buddy sign. I checked my computer and, a minute having passed since I saw her, I thumbed the dive. He shook his head and motioned for me to stay put. I again tumbed and he again shook his head and motioned for me to stay put (did I mention that divers have drowned in this quarry?). I was at wits end and sucking gas at an incredible rate when she finally appeared some 3-4 minutes later, at which time I took hold of her BC and thumbed again. This time he gave me the “safety stop” sign and I replied “OK” (dive time was about 24 minutes and average depth was something less than 35’
. We ascended to 15’, waited 3 minutes, surfaced, and surface swam to the entrance point. She was shattered and I was mad as hell.After cooling down a bit, I sat down with the instructor and asked why he would stop me from surfacing in a missing diver situation when a minute had elapsed and viz was near-zero. His response was that he had to balance his responsibility to the other diver as we would all have to surface and that the DM was undoubtedly looking for her and would be confused if looking for us after we surfaced (in fact, she had surfaced in complete frustration and the DM talked her into descending). I looked him in the eye and told him I didn’t give a flying **** about his other student or his need to balance anything in view of a missing diver – especially when it was my wife. He responded that he would not have physically stopped me if I decided to ascend and then signed each of our training certificates. We drove off sure that we would never dive together again.
A few days after this I contacted Jim Lapenta based on some comments he made to someone who had posted dissatisfaction with her drysuit training. I expressed my concerns as I saw them and asked if he had any thoughts. He responded with significantly different observations, several of them focusing on my lack of real buddy skills. I sat down with my wife and asked her if she was willing to give it another try and she was. This time it was going to be different.
The first thing I did differently was to interview the instructor. I had already been impressed by comments Jim had made on this forum and those impressions were confirmed in our emails and telephone conversations. But talk is one thing and doing is another so I arranged to observe him while he instructed another student. This led to 7 dives at a different quarry while my wife was out of town. I observed Jim to be patient, thorough, and dedicated to teaching to standard as opposed to time. One thing that stuck out to me was his philosophy – that he needed any diver he trained to be sufficiently competent to serve as buddy to one of his loved ones on a similar skill level dive before he would issue a card. I observed this during that weekend and told my wife that we had found someone that was both willing and able to help both of us both with the drysuit and with our buddy skills.
The first step was for him to talk me into buying his book for new divers. I thought $20 was pretty cheap as far as diving books go. My wife’s comment after reading it was “why didn’t I get to read this earlier”. Then it was off to Pittsburgh (Go Browns) for 3 hours of classroom followed by 3 hours of pool in the drysuit. Pool time is conducted off the knees with 100% commitment to buddy skills (no circles here – everything is 2 x 2). Three hours later, my wife was eager to get back in open water and we both had a much better understanding of how to work as a buddy team.
The next day was another quarry – this one with an average depth of 15 feet, lots of vegetation, and a very soft bottom. The result was predictable – very difficult buoyancy and complete siltout conditions. Complete silt while we ran a line. Complete silt while we moved on line through dense vegetation. Complete silt while we looked for silly little blasting holes in rocks. Complete silt while we looked for fish two inches in front of our masks. What was not predictable was what emerged – solid touch buddy skills, even buoyancy, confidence and a renewed excitement in drysuit diving with her husband. She is already planning dives for October and November this year so we won’t have more than two months off before we head back to Mexico!
I thought a lot before writing this. I originally wanted to flame the original shop and instructor, both for failing to understand our needs and for what I consider to be a truly unsafe act in a missing diver situation. But after taking instruction from Jim, I realize that the shortfalls were mine – that I need to interview any instructor and choose one that teaches to standard and not to time (or the minimum boxes to be checked). I’ve found such an instructor and would be happy to recommend Jim Lapenta to anyone who might be in a similar situation.
R/S,
David Black
