DiveDay
Contributor
Introduction
I’ve been meaning to write this post for a long time. As a novice diver (~3 years, ~100 dives) I am hardly an expert on anything, in fact much of what I’ve learned came from this forum, but there are so many things I wish someone had explained to me earlier about GUE and Fundamentals in particular. In the hope that this knowledge helps others I am finally putting the thoughts in writing. For some time I wanted to write a class report, in fact two, since I had the (perhaps shameful) honour of taking Fundamentals twice on separate occasions. In both instances I had too much emotion by the end, and now, a year or two later my memory is too stale to do a play-by-play hour-by-hour report, but I’ll still reference back to those experiences. Alright, here goes!
The Road to Fundamentals
I am unlikely scuba diver. As a sports-shy and nervous child I dropped out of swim classes at an early age. Decades later as I closed in on 30 a group of friends invited me on a scuba trip to the Caribbean. At first I declined, after all it was in water and I did not do well with water. But they were persistent over months and months, so I signed up for some swim classes (more on that later) and to save precious vacation time a local Open Water course here in Canada. I didn’t know anything about agencies or shops so I simply did a Google search for “scuba training” and signed up at the closest shop.
By chance I landed in an SSI class. I won’t harp on that too long - the eLearning component seemed pretty good but my most distinctive memory was of my last certification dive at the local quarry. I had no functional depth gauge (the computer/console was in a weird mode and I did not know how to configure it), the water felt very cold (I was wearing an ill fitting 7mm rental wetsuit + a 7mm vest), and visibility was a few feet at most. At one point my buddy bolted and I was left alone - before I knew what was happening I was ascending to the surface and popped up like a balloon. The instructor mentioned we needed to reach at least 15 minutes of bottom time for the dive to count towards certification, so he took me back down. I held on to his arm and a few dazed minutes later emerged back a certified autonomous diver (let that sink in for a minute). His parting words of encouragement were that I would find diving down south so much easier, but to be safe I should just ask to be paired with someone more experienced when I go on my first dives.
I ended up going to Curacao with my friends, and it was a wonderful experience with a kind and experienced local guide. But an “autonomous” diver I was not.
Not all training is equal
Back in Canada I decided I needed more training to become comfortable. So I signed up with a different shop, this time under the PADI banner, and took as many courses as I could. Among others I became Nitrox certified, took an AOW class, got first aid certified and even completed the much touted “Rescue” diver class. I enjoyed the course packs and materials, and some of the experience dives were really fun but it felt like a guided tour. When non-divers asked me what classes I was taking I would say “Rescue Diver” followed by a hurried explanation before their brows furrowed explaining that it’s really about self-rescue and stress management, lest they picture Kevin Costner in “The Guardian” or some sort of Navy Seal training. The more money and time I poured in the more I realized that I wasn’t really improving. I took Peak Performance Buoyancy on another vacation, but my buoyancy did not improve, and I even bought a dry suit and received some pool instruction on it plus a short open water dive so I could dive longer in the local season. I had a stack of C-cards at this point and I still felt uncomfortable in the water. Virtually all my dives were training dives, but more training wasn’t doing it … or maybe I was taking the wrong kind of training?
I can’t recall exactly where I found out about GUE but I was immediately intrigued. The more I read about Fundamentals, the more it seemed like the holy grail of diving. So I started searching for an instructor. My first contact with a GUE instructor was a phone call with Bob Sherwood. At the time I didn’t know who he was at all, but now knowing how celebrated he is in the community I must emphasize his kindness and willingness to talk to a complete newbie and share wisdom. Since he was in upstate New York and I was in Canada, I decided to simplify logistics and ended up signing up with a Canadian instructor instead for a split weekend Fundies class in early summer of 2019.
Early Frustrations or “Evaluation versus Education”
I’m going to fast forward. My first class was rough, quite rough. Prior to the course the instructor was polite but offered minimal pre-class support and no in-person consultation. I had to buy all new everything - my brand new Scubapro Hydros BCD was not appropriate, and my fins were no good either. I must admit my first reaction was frustration and downright anger - why do I need to buy wet notes to learn about buoyancy? It all seemed like ridiculous hoops to jump through, but I was wiling to do it to get access to this much vaunted world class instruction. Through watching classifieds like a hawk I managed to score a set of gently used doubles and long hose regulators but I was told trying to learn how to use them at the same time as my drysuit would be too difficult. (This was, in fact, very much correct.)
I ended up taking the class in a single tank and a wetsuit. I had never dived with a backplate and wing before. My newly met classmates were both trying doubles in wetsuits fo the first time, and neither had their equipment in order. In the water we were disastrous. Between the doubles divers face planting into the bottom and my inability to float still for even a few seconds any hopes of passing quickly faded away. One of my classmates was so frustrated they dropped out of the course after the first weekend. I tried to do a practice dive or two in between the two parts but it didn’t do much good. The instructor sat us down around the third day and calmly explained that realistically given our skills we could not finish the curriculum, so we had to decide what we wanted to get out of the class. Both of us remaining students grimly accepted, and tried to keep a somewhat upbeat attitude for the last few dives. I think in the four days we completed roughly half of fundamentals, stopping with the gas sharing exercise. My remaining classmate had ordered an expensive custom-made drysuit and had already put a deposit on a Cave 1 class - their expectation had been to walk away with a Tech pass on first try. All three students failed the class, myself included. As far as I know the other two did not come back to GUE. I was enormously frustrated but became more determined. The instructor and the instructor trainee during my class had such control in the water, I wanted to prove to myself I too could dive like that. I wanted to dive with buddies like that.
(continued)
I’ve been meaning to write this post for a long time. As a novice diver (~3 years, ~100 dives) I am hardly an expert on anything, in fact much of what I’ve learned came from this forum, but there are so many things I wish someone had explained to me earlier about GUE and Fundamentals in particular. In the hope that this knowledge helps others I am finally putting the thoughts in writing. For some time I wanted to write a class report, in fact two, since I had the (perhaps shameful) honour of taking Fundamentals twice on separate occasions. In both instances I had too much emotion by the end, and now, a year or two later my memory is too stale to do a play-by-play hour-by-hour report, but I’ll still reference back to those experiences. Alright, here goes!
The Road to Fundamentals
I am unlikely scuba diver. As a sports-shy and nervous child I dropped out of swim classes at an early age. Decades later as I closed in on 30 a group of friends invited me on a scuba trip to the Caribbean. At first I declined, after all it was in water and I did not do well with water. But they were persistent over months and months, so I signed up for some swim classes (more on that later) and to save precious vacation time a local Open Water course here in Canada. I didn’t know anything about agencies or shops so I simply did a Google search for “scuba training” and signed up at the closest shop.
By chance I landed in an SSI class. I won’t harp on that too long - the eLearning component seemed pretty good but my most distinctive memory was of my last certification dive at the local quarry. I had no functional depth gauge (the computer/console was in a weird mode and I did not know how to configure it), the water felt very cold (I was wearing an ill fitting 7mm rental wetsuit + a 7mm vest), and visibility was a few feet at most. At one point my buddy bolted and I was left alone - before I knew what was happening I was ascending to the surface and popped up like a balloon. The instructor mentioned we needed to reach at least 15 minutes of bottom time for the dive to count towards certification, so he took me back down. I held on to his arm and a few dazed minutes later emerged back a certified autonomous diver (let that sink in for a minute). His parting words of encouragement were that I would find diving down south so much easier, but to be safe I should just ask to be paired with someone more experienced when I go on my first dives.
I ended up going to Curacao with my friends, and it was a wonderful experience with a kind and experienced local guide. But an “autonomous” diver I was not.
Not all training is equal
Back in Canada I decided I needed more training to become comfortable. So I signed up with a different shop, this time under the PADI banner, and took as many courses as I could. Among others I became Nitrox certified, took an AOW class, got first aid certified and even completed the much touted “Rescue” diver class. I enjoyed the course packs and materials, and some of the experience dives were really fun but it felt like a guided tour. When non-divers asked me what classes I was taking I would say “Rescue Diver” followed by a hurried explanation before their brows furrowed explaining that it’s really about self-rescue and stress management, lest they picture Kevin Costner in “The Guardian” or some sort of Navy Seal training. The more money and time I poured in the more I realized that I wasn’t really improving. I took Peak Performance Buoyancy on another vacation, but my buoyancy did not improve, and I even bought a dry suit and received some pool instruction on it plus a short open water dive so I could dive longer in the local season. I had a stack of C-cards at this point and I still felt uncomfortable in the water. Virtually all my dives were training dives, but more training wasn’t doing it … or maybe I was taking the wrong kind of training?
I can’t recall exactly where I found out about GUE but I was immediately intrigued. The more I read about Fundamentals, the more it seemed like the holy grail of diving. So I started searching for an instructor. My first contact with a GUE instructor was a phone call with Bob Sherwood. At the time I didn’t know who he was at all, but now knowing how celebrated he is in the community I must emphasize his kindness and willingness to talk to a complete newbie and share wisdom. Since he was in upstate New York and I was in Canada, I decided to simplify logistics and ended up signing up with a Canadian instructor instead for a split weekend Fundies class in early summer of 2019.
Early Frustrations or “Evaluation versus Education”
I’m going to fast forward. My first class was rough, quite rough. Prior to the course the instructor was polite but offered minimal pre-class support and no in-person consultation. I had to buy all new everything - my brand new Scubapro Hydros BCD was not appropriate, and my fins were no good either. I must admit my first reaction was frustration and downright anger - why do I need to buy wet notes to learn about buoyancy? It all seemed like ridiculous hoops to jump through, but I was wiling to do it to get access to this much vaunted world class instruction. Through watching classifieds like a hawk I managed to score a set of gently used doubles and long hose regulators but I was told trying to learn how to use them at the same time as my drysuit would be too difficult. (This was, in fact, very much correct.)
I ended up taking the class in a single tank and a wetsuit. I had never dived with a backplate and wing before. My newly met classmates were both trying doubles in wetsuits fo the first time, and neither had their equipment in order. In the water we were disastrous. Between the doubles divers face planting into the bottom and my inability to float still for even a few seconds any hopes of passing quickly faded away. One of my classmates was so frustrated they dropped out of the course after the first weekend. I tried to do a practice dive or two in between the two parts but it didn’t do much good. The instructor sat us down around the third day and calmly explained that realistically given our skills we could not finish the curriculum, so we had to decide what we wanted to get out of the class. Both of us remaining students grimly accepted, and tried to keep a somewhat upbeat attitude for the last few dives. I think in the four days we completed roughly half of fundamentals, stopping with the gas sharing exercise. My remaining classmate had ordered an expensive custom-made drysuit and had already put a deposit on a Cave 1 class - their expectation had been to walk away with a Tech pass on first try. All three students failed the class, myself included. As far as I know the other two did not come back to GUE. I was enormously frustrated but became more determined. The instructor and the instructor trainee during my class had such control in the water, I wanted to prove to myself I too could dive like that. I wanted to dive with buddies like that.
(continued)