DaytonaDave
Contributor
I wanted to sit and post this now that I've thought it over (and over, and over, and...) and got more dives under my belt.
A few months ago, I had the opportunity to accompany my wife on a business trip to Laguna Beach, California. While she was working, the plan was for me to take a day to dive in the Pacific for the first time. I was ecstatic, so I posted on SB for some dive buddies. As luck would have it, I met Ann Marie and we set up a boat trip to Santa Catalina Island. She even agreed to loan me some gear and pick up rentals of anything else I needed, so basically I only needed my mask.
As always seems to happen, there were airline problems (I won't go into it) and we arrived about 7 hours behind schedule. This left us getting in very late, and even with the time change, I had only about 2.5 hours until meeting Ann Marie to go diving after I got into the hotel. I was very tired, but alert and excited, so I decided to go. (Ann Marie was even nice enough to bring me coffee) We drove the 45 minutes to the boat, and proceeded to take the 2 hour boat ride to the island. I was very seasick when we finally got there. With the excitement of diving in the kelp forests coursing through my veins, I apparently didn't realize how exhausted I was. Most of my previous diving was done in the warm waters in Florida, so I didn't wear a heavy wetsuit, like I would have to here.
Now, finally after all of this, I get to the point....
I worked myself into the 7mm and hood and geared up. Everything was so beautiful, the rock faces on the islands were awe-inspiring.... the water was so blue... I took my giant stride and hit the water... damn it was cold (remember, I was from Florida.... and this was 50 degree water). I was diving with all unfamiliar gear.... I took a couple of breaths on the surface and Ann Marie and I gave the 'down' signal. Before I realized it, I was out of breath. That horrible, can't-get-enough-air-in-your-lungs no matter how fast you breath out of breath. I looked at my depth gauge and it showed 15 feet... and for a split second I almost kicked for the surface. Then I stopped and thought... I was breathing, just hard... Ann Marie took notice and asked if I was OK. I told her no, and gave the sign to surface.... we did a controlled ascent. I ripped the reg out of my mouth and began panting.... I couldn't get enough air. This only lasted about a minute. Ann Marie asked if I wanted to call the dive and I said no, that I wanted to see if I could catch my breath. I did after a few minutes, and we proceeded with the dive.... no more incidents. Actually, diving the kelp forests was beautiful and one of my experiences I'll never forget....
Ann Marie later told me that even though I was so out of breath, I still controlled my urge to panic... and that was a very good thing... that I should feel good knowing that I controlled it.
After the day's worth of diving, I was very shaken by my urges... and told my wife I wasn't sure if I was going to continue diving. She fought the urge to throttle me... because she knows how much I love diving...
I've taken a lot of dives since then and have evaluated my mental state on each. I noticed on another dive, that the cold water here in Pennsylvania created the same feeling in me once it hit my face... but the anxiety was there, and later when I dove Jamaica, I felt it hit me when I first hit the water... I took a deep breath and it was gone just like that....
Now when I dive, I get no such anxiety or shortness of breath... even in the 40 degree water I was in over the weekend.
My analysis:
The first dive in Catalina was a culmination of things that I should have called the dive for: exhaustion, vertigo from seasickness, etc. I guess that the same affliction that all of us have when we travel great distances to dive took over... I didn't want to give up the dives that I wouldn't be able to get again for a long time.
On my future dives, what helped me to get over it was Ann Marie. She didn't realize it, but her positive words rung in my head every time I felt that anxiety loom over me. Made me confident that my training would overcome the urges... and she was right.
I waited to post this until I could sit and really think it through... plus I wanted to see how my diving would progress. Sunday I passed my dry suit specialty... and next weekend I have my Rescue Diver class. I see a lot of positive advancement... but more importantly, I love diving.
Thank you Ann Marie.
A few months ago, I had the opportunity to accompany my wife on a business trip to Laguna Beach, California. While she was working, the plan was for me to take a day to dive in the Pacific for the first time. I was ecstatic, so I posted on SB for some dive buddies. As luck would have it, I met Ann Marie and we set up a boat trip to Santa Catalina Island. She even agreed to loan me some gear and pick up rentals of anything else I needed, so basically I only needed my mask.
As always seems to happen, there were airline problems (I won't go into it) and we arrived about 7 hours behind schedule. This left us getting in very late, and even with the time change, I had only about 2.5 hours until meeting Ann Marie to go diving after I got into the hotel. I was very tired, but alert and excited, so I decided to go. (Ann Marie was even nice enough to bring me coffee) We drove the 45 minutes to the boat, and proceeded to take the 2 hour boat ride to the island. I was very seasick when we finally got there. With the excitement of diving in the kelp forests coursing through my veins, I apparently didn't realize how exhausted I was. Most of my previous diving was done in the warm waters in Florida, so I didn't wear a heavy wetsuit, like I would have to here.
Now, finally after all of this, I get to the point....
I worked myself into the 7mm and hood and geared up. Everything was so beautiful, the rock faces on the islands were awe-inspiring.... the water was so blue... I took my giant stride and hit the water... damn it was cold (remember, I was from Florida.... and this was 50 degree water). I was diving with all unfamiliar gear.... I took a couple of breaths on the surface and Ann Marie and I gave the 'down' signal. Before I realized it, I was out of breath. That horrible, can't-get-enough-air-in-your-lungs no matter how fast you breath out of breath. I looked at my depth gauge and it showed 15 feet... and for a split second I almost kicked for the surface. Then I stopped and thought... I was breathing, just hard... Ann Marie took notice and asked if I was OK. I told her no, and gave the sign to surface.... we did a controlled ascent. I ripped the reg out of my mouth and began panting.... I couldn't get enough air. This only lasted about a minute. Ann Marie asked if I wanted to call the dive and I said no, that I wanted to see if I could catch my breath. I did after a few minutes, and we proceeded with the dive.... no more incidents. Actually, diving the kelp forests was beautiful and one of my experiences I'll never forget....
Ann Marie later told me that even though I was so out of breath, I still controlled my urge to panic... and that was a very good thing... that I should feel good knowing that I controlled it.
After the day's worth of diving, I was very shaken by my urges... and told my wife I wasn't sure if I was going to continue diving. She fought the urge to throttle me... because she knows how much I love diving...
I've taken a lot of dives since then and have evaluated my mental state on each. I noticed on another dive, that the cold water here in Pennsylvania created the same feeling in me once it hit my face... but the anxiety was there, and later when I dove Jamaica, I felt it hit me when I first hit the water... I took a deep breath and it was gone just like that....
Now when I dive, I get no such anxiety or shortness of breath... even in the 40 degree water I was in over the weekend.
My analysis:
The first dive in Catalina was a culmination of things that I should have called the dive for: exhaustion, vertigo from seasickness, etc. I guess that the same affliction that all of us have when we travel great distances to dive took over... I didn't want to give up the dives that I wouldn't be able to get again for a long time.
On my future dives, what helped me to get over it was Ann Marie. She didn't realize it, but her positive words rung in my head every time I felt that anxiety loom over me. Made me confident that my training would overcome the urges... and she was right.
I waited to post this until I could sit and really think it through... plus I wanted to see how my diving would progress. Sunday I passed my dry suit specialty... and next weekend I have my Rescue Diver class. I see a lot of positive advancement... but more importantly, I love diving.
Thank you Ann Marie.
) Finally, the feeling passed, and we went on to an uneventful dive.
