. . . began yesterday.
Some folks will remember that there was a long discussion about Fundies from last year (the thread has been revived and is currently running). It ended with Guy Shockey offering a free Fundamentals class to DaleC and a fellow Canadian, so long as I took part in it. It took a while to get the class scheduled, and by the time it began, we had six students in it.
Teaching the six students today were THREE full-fledged GUE instructors (one an instructor trainer, and two who are interning their T1 instructor ratings), 2 teaching GUE instructor interns, and two additional GUE instructor interns. I believe this may well be the only GUE class ever taught where the instructors outnumber the students.
Yesterday was academics, and man, has that changed. My Fundies from 10 years ago had no instructional materials except a Xeroxed copy of the PowerPoint. And the PowerPoint wasn't all that. This time, we had reading material -- Jarrod's book (which everybody agrees needs a serious makeover, if only to edit the writing), a Nitrox manual with homework problems, homework problems on min deco and lots of gas problems. The PowerPoint is far more extensive and MUCH more professionally produced. The class has definitely matured.
It is great fun watching five different people teach. Each has his own, very distinct style, and they are all different. Liz, who is 5'2" and looks like she's 21, can bring a room full of grown-ups to their knees without raising her voice. Alex, who is about 6'4" and has a beard that a Taliban fighter would be proud of, fills a room with his deep, booming voice, and is impressively efficient. Jo, with his dreadlocks and beard, has the gentlest approach, and can correct something you're doing wrong and leave you feeling entirely helped and not at all criticized. Koos has his lovely South African accent, which left one of my classmates puzzled as to why he had been asked about how our decompression strategy dealt with bee stings ("these things"). And Guy is impressing the dickens out of me as a teacher, because he grounds everybody, and seems to have an almost perfect sense of when we need a little propping up to keep going.
Today, we began with going through all the gear. It had never occurred to me that using my Hog regs with the diaphragm pointing up rendered them vulnerable to damage, and after trying to deal with installing the reg the other way around, I may decide to go ahead and live with the risk. I almost ran out of my supply of profanity in the process. A few other things were a bit long, or not tied in precisely the right place, and the rig will be better for the tune-up.
At this point, I had a personal first in diving. We got into both undergarments and dry suit at the shop, and I actually drove the truck while wearing my dry suit, which is something I have never done before, and I think I know why. It's not particularly comfortable . . . At any rate, the training site is nice, except for the fact that the parking lot is so severely sloped that none of the tanks will stand up on the tailgate. I got my butt chewed for setting my X-table up near the stairs, where it was level, because I was too far from my teammates. Too bad they don't have X-tables, too, or we could have a nice grouping where the gear is cooperative.
Propulsion techniques are now practiced first in the water without any equipment other than exposure protection. One MUST assume proper trim, with the head and shoulders arched back, because otherwise breathing becomes quite difficult. Those of us wearing the equivalent of a down sleeping bag under our dry suits have bit of a problem keeping our feet in the water, and it's awfully hard to do a frog kick in the air that moves you anywhere. It was an interesting challenge, as was repeatedly trying to go from a horizontal float to a standing position with buoyant legs and no fins. THAT's a skill I clearly need to practice.
The first dive is a descent to a line, kick demonstrations from the instructor, and then kicks demonstrated by the students. I will say that having three instructors in addition to my two buddies made life a bit confusing from a visual standpoint. Luckily the instructors were all in doubles, and my buddies were single-tanking with me, but the time it took me to ascertain that each time I looked around made things a bit inefficient.
By the time we finished those exercises, I was shivering uncontrollably, and the debrief in the water was hard, but Guy realized how cold I was, and we got out and decided to head back to the shop for the last lecture segment, and wonderful chocolate chip cookies baked by Dale's wife. We then repaired to the Shipyard Pub, where I had quite possibly the best burger I have ever eaten anywhere, and the live music was playing all the songs from the 70's that make me want to get up and dance or sing along, neither of which is anything I should be doing in public. It was really great fun to look around and see the whole group of us, the smiles and the laughter AND the earnest conversations. I love this world I live and dive in!
Some folks will remember that there was a long discussion about Fundies from last year (the thread has been revived and is currently running). It ended with Guy Shockey offering a free Fundamentals class to DaleC and a fellow Canadian, so long as I took part in it. It took a while to get the class scheduled, and by the time it began, we had six students in it.
Teaching the six students today were THREE full-fledged GUE instructors (one an instructor trainer, and two who are interning their T1 instructor ratings), 2 teaching GUE instructor interns, and two additional GUE instructor interns. I believe this may well be the only GUE class ever taught where the instructors outnumber the students.
Yesterday was academics, and man, has that changed. My Fundies from 10 years ago had no instructional materials except a Xeroxed copy of the PowerPoint. And the PowerPoint wasn't all that. This time, we had reading material -- Jarrod's book (which everybody agrees needs a serious makeover, if only to edit the writing), a Nitrox manual with homework problems, homework problems on min deco and lots of gas problems. The PowerPoint is far more extensive and MUCH more professionally produced. The class has definitely matured.
It is great fun watching five different people teach. Each has his own, very distinct style, and they are all different. Liz, who is 5'2" and looks like she's 21, can bring a room full of grown-ups to their knees without raising her voice. Alex, who is about 6'4" and has a beard that a Taliban fighter would be proud of, fills a room with his deep, booming voice, and is impressively efficient. Jo, with his dreadlocks and beard, has the gentlest approach, and can correct something you're doing wrong and leave you feeling entirely helped and not at all criticized. Koos has his lovely South African accent, which left one of my classmates puzzled as to why he had been asked about how our decompression strategy dealt with bee stings ("these things"). And Guy is impressing the dickens out of me as a teacher, because he grounds everybody, and seems to have an almost perfect sense of when we need a little propping up to keep going.
Today, we began with going through all the gear. It had never occurred to me that using my Hog regs with the diaphragm pointing up rendered them vulnerable to damage, and after trying to deal with installing the reg the other way around, I may decide to go ahead and live with the risk. I almost ran out of my supply of profanity in the process. A few other things were a bit long, or not tied in precisely the right place, and the rig will be better for the tune-up.
At this point, I had a personal first in diving. We got into both undergarments and dry suit at the shop, and I actually drove the truck while wearing my dry suit, which is something I have never done before, and I think I know why. It's not particularly comfortable . . . At any rate, the training site is nice, except for the fact that the parking lot is so severely sloped that none of the tanks will stand up on the tailgate. I got my butt chewed for setting my X-table up near the stairs, where it was level, because I was too far from my teammates. Too bad they don't have X-tables, too, or we could have a nice grouping where the gear is cooperative.
Propulsion techniques are now practiced first in the water without any equipment other than exposure protection. One MUST assume proper trim, with the head and shoulders arched back, because otherwise breathing becomes quite difficult. Those of us wearing the equivalent of a down sleeping bag under our dry suits have bit of a problem keeping our feet in the water, and it's awfully hard to do a frog kick in the air that moves you anywhere. It was an interesting challenge, as was repeatedly trying to go from a horizontal float to a standing position with buoyant legs and no fins. THAT's a skill I clearly need to practice.
The first dive is a descent to a line, kick demonstrations from the instructor, and then kicks demonstrated by the students. I will say that having three instructors in addition to my two buddies made life a bit confusing from a visual standpoint. Luckily the instructors were all in doubles, and my buddies were single-tanking with me, but the time it took me to ascertain that each time I looked around made things a bit inefficient.
By the time we finished those exercises, I was shivering uncontrollably, and the debrief in the water was hard, but Guy realized how cold I was, and we got out and decided to head back to the shop for the last lecture segment, and wonderful chocolate chip cookies baked by Dale's wife. We then repaired to the Shipyard Pub, where I had quite possibly the best burger I have ever eaten anywhere, and the live music was playing all the songs from the 70's that make me want to get up and dance or sing along, neither of which is anything I should be doing in public. It was really great fun to look around and see the whole group of us, the smiles and the laughter AND the earnest conversations. I love this world I live and dive in!
