kasdeva
Registered
I completed my diving gear buying spree by exchanging some money for a HP100 steel cyclinder today. Being a fastidious individual and needing an excuse to not be at work, I went to my local dive club to try out all my new toys in the pool.
The sun is shining in that intense African way so common in South Africa in summer, this only adds to my elation while I was unpacking all my toys at the pool. Seasoned dive instructors snickered at me flailing away at my shiny new gear trying to figure out where all the new stuff goes. Some even came over occasionally to have short chat or ask if I need a hand. I persevered and found a place for all the buckles to go and a hole for all the hoses to go into.
I struggled into my fins and wobbled my way to the edge of the pool to take my giant stride for mankind. A rather well constructed female instructor of the sun bleached blond kind waved at me, me being a middle aged gentlemen, this kind of attention made me unceremoniously crash into the water where I proceeded to head to the bottom post haste in case I cause further harm to my already tattered diving image.
I have my compass on my left wrist and my diving computer on the right wrist. DIR style baby. I assume the Netdoc position and ease some air into my BC. A bit of breath control and I lift, oh so gently, of the bottom of the pool into neutral buoyancy. To my consternation, i start floating like a mosquito larvae, the ass in the air position. None of the grace our fellow tech wizards exhibit.
Concerned about my lack of good diving posture I gently float to the surface, doing a three minute safety stop while checking my backup computer to make sure I have not incurred a deco obligation in the pool. The safety stop is spent making notes on my slate to remind me to ask the club chairman to hang EAN 50 at ten foot in the pool.
I grab some more weight and brace myself for the thermocline at 7 foot and head for the bottom once more.
Well, adding weight never solves anything, I have now progressed to a semi inflated bcd mosquito larvae at the bottom of the pool. This is serious, I pull on my vast pool of experience I acquired listening to the Shadow Divers audio book and repeat to myself: As long as you are breathing, you are ok.. I clear my mind, fight down the narcosis and ask myself: What would John Chatterton do? Alas, I have no answer for that question.
So, what does a floaty feet diver do to fix trim issues like this? Move my cylinder around? Put spring straps on my split fins?
The sun is shining in that intense African way so common in South Africa in summer, this only adds to my elation while I was unpacking all my toys at the pool. Seasoned dive instructors snickered at me flailing away at my shiny new gear trying to figure out where all the new stuff goes. Some even came over occasionally to have short chat or ask if I need a hand. I persevered and found a place for all the buckles to go and a hole for all the hoses to go into.
I struggled into my fins and wobbled my way to the edge of the pool to take my giant stride for mankind. A rather well constructed female instructor of the sun bleached blond kind waved at me, me being a middle aged gentlemen, this kind of attention made me unceremoniously crash into the water where I proceeded to head to the bottom post haste in case I cause further harm to my already tattered diving image.
I have my compass on my left wrist and my diving computer on the right wrist. DIR style baby. I assume the Netdoc position and ease some air into my BC. A bit of breath control and I lift, oh so gently, of the bottom of the pool into neutral buoyancy. To my consternation, i start floating like a mosquito larvae, the ass in the air position. None of the grace our fellow tech wizards exhibit.
Concerned about my lack of good diving posture I gently float to the surface, doing a three minute safety stop while checking my backup computer to make sure I have not incurred a deco obligation in the pool. The safety stop is spent making notes on my slate to remind me to ask the club chairman to hang EAN 50 at ten foot in the pool.
I grab some more weight and brace myself for the thermocline at 7 foot and head for the bottom once more.
Well, adding weight never solves anything, I have now progressed to a semi inflated bcd mosquito larvae at the bottom of the pool. This is serious, I pull on my vast pool of experience I acquired listening to the Shadow Divers audio book and repeat to myself: As long as you are breathing, you are ok.. I clear my mind, fight down the narcosis and ask myself: What would John Chatterton do? Alas, I have no answer for that question.
So, what does a floaty feet diver do to fix trim issues like this? Move my cylinder around? Put spring straps on my split fins?
