Well, the star of the day today was DaleC, who had wanted a back kick out of this experience if he got nothing else at all . . . and after today's dives, and a little one-on-one with guy, he not only produced an effective back kick, but Guy got it on video and we all got to see it.
Today could not have been a more beautiful day. It was cold this morning, very cold; I was shivering before we got to doing the land drills, which got moved into the garage, which was marginally warmer. I absolutely loathe leaving thermal units in the parking lot, or driveway, or garage; diving in cold water is hard enough without getting cold before you do it. I would have gotten into my undergarments almost immediately, had my truck not made an unscheduled trip back to the motel without me but with all my non tank attached dive gear.
There are a few changes to the drills, which are refinements but not substantive. Nonetheless, ten years of doing them one way made it extremely difficult to do it another, even when the changes were quite minor. I did a nice job of embarrassing myself during the garage drills (and eventually managed to remember to make the same mistakes at least once in the water). Learning a new skill takes a bit of repetition, but changing an old one takes a lot more!
Once we were absolutely sure that no one would give an "okay" sign at the wrong point in an S-drill, we repaired to the bay again. We were not as lucky as yesterday, and by the time I got there, the lot parking was gone. Luckily, there was on-street parking, and Dale and I were parked together, with Ian just on the other side of the road, so we were able to avoid being scolded for gearing up in insufficient proximity. All joking aside, there really IS a sense of team that builds in these classes, and we were helping one another with harnesses and gloves and hood zippers, and it all felt rather cozy, familiar, and pleasant. The bright sunshine probably helped, too.
We were working in the water today mostly with Alex, Koos and Guy today, with Alex the leader. He does a good job, staying very much on task and aware of time. The first dive was Basic 5 and Ian's double tank valve drill. Our descent was not the Three Stooges event that yesterday's had been, and I dearly love floating down like a leaf through the water in perfect consonance with the rest of my team. We managed to arrange ourselves on the line and wait in good order for the demonstrations, which were done in crisp and accurate style by Liz. When it was my turn, I fumbled through trying to remember that there is a prescribed hand for everything nowadays (and the reasons make sense, it's just hard for me to change), and I of course have never liked removing my mask in cold water, and I don't like it any more today than I ever did. PLEASE just rip the thing off my face, so I don't have to deal with the horrible anticipation of the face freeze! The reality is never as bad as I think it is going to be. The other thing that fascinates me is why a mask which fits perfectly if installed correctly at first, will NEVER EVER EVER stop leaking once it has been flooded or removed, no matter how carefully you resettle it.
Once everyone had had a chance to demonstrate that cold water on their face was not going to cause panic, we watched Ian march through his valve drill, and then we went back to the uplink and muddled through a min deco ascent. Ascents are one of the things that never starts out well in these classes, and this morning's was far better than yesterdays, and the afternoon dive was better yet again. I don't understand quite how people can learn so fast, with so little interim practice, but I've seen it happen in enough of these classes to know this exists, and is reproducible.
On the surface, we began the dratted GUE interminable in-the-water-while-you-are-shivering debrief. I know the theory behind it -- resting quietly on the surface for a while after a dive is a good strategy with respect to decompression. But a half hour of pre-dive stuff, followed by most of an hour of sitting still and doing not much, followed by 15 minutes of talking on the surface, is a recipe for some pretty impressive shivering on my part. I was delighted that Guy, before the second dive, talked about the fact that much of the pre-dive stuff can be done on land, thus avoiding the necessity for prolonged in-water talking and gear checking. In the summer, I can't wait to get in the water, but in the winter, my dives are all limited by thermal units, and I prefer not to spend them on administrative tasks.
We came out of the water into bright sunshine, which had at least the illusion of warmth. I decided not to swap out my tanks, given the remaining pressure, so I could wander around and talk, and make the obligatory inter-dive trip to the water. Everyone had the elegance not to notice.
We had our briefing on the second dive, which was to be S-drills and valve drills for all. Out we went, and drifted like autumn leaves down the upline, and arranged ourselves in good order facing Alex and Koos, who were to demonstrate the drills. We then attempted to arrange ourselves in a triangle at the end of the line, but the current was unhelpful. Once a buddy pair was deeply engaged in the engrossing process of sharing gas, it was pretty much beyond them to maintain position, and there was a frequent need to reset. I wish the water would schedule its movement outside of the class hours, honestly; Fundies is hard enough. With the exception of having to process quite consciously which hand did what, I thought I more or less marched through the drills, until I saw the video and gazed, horrified, at the remnants of what used to be pretty decent trim. All dives buddies in the near future are going to be asked to whack me upside the head if my knees drop. Interestingly, most folks have pretty good trim until task-loaded; I apparently have godawful trim UNTIL task loaded. Go figure.
At any rate, this dive was kind of fun, because I managed to run out of gas on it THREE TIMES. Now, there are lots of people who have run out of gas, and actually quite a few who have lived to tell about it, but I doubt many have done it three times in one dive. The second time was to surprise and harass Ian, who was doing so well with his skills that the instructors felt like throwing him a little extra challenge, and the third time was to annoy me, because I "ran out of gas" coincidentally with having my primary light fail, so I had to swim to my buddy and yank on his wing to tell him I needed gas. To his credit, by the time he had turned enough to see it was me, he already had his primary reg in his hand -- it was very neatly managed.
During this portion of the dive, Dale had been taken aside by Guy for specific back-kick work, which I did not know. I knew he had gone away with an instructor but not where, or what they were doing. The coaching paid off beautifully, since we watched video of a definite, effective back-kick during the evening debrief. All I knew was that they were doing something on the bottom that was resulting in our having to do our minimum deco ascent in a cloud of bubbles, which are surprisingly disorienting. But although not accurate, our ascent was precise, and it was actually fun in a Lawrence Welk sort of way.
Out of the water and out of the gear, we ran back to the classroom for the last of the academic modules. I really enjoyed the last section, which beautifully summarized how the various parts of the system lay out parameters within which we may safely dive and enjoy ourselves. I had never conceptualized GUE in quite that fashion, and I really liked the imagery and metaphors.
Tonight, the students gathered over pizza and beer to do the final exam, which is ostensibly an intellectual exercise, but is actually, as given, a powerful team-building experience. And here I am, staying up way too late to tell you guys about it (and I now owe Guy a beer).
---------- Post added February 22nd, 2015 at 07:11 AM ----------
I forgot to mention, in the late-night recap, that some of the most fortunate people in this class yesterday were the ones who were struggling, because they spent essentially the whole day getting one-on-one coaching from instructor interns, under the benign but observant gaze of Joakim. I have not seen them in the water again, but the report from the staff (and last night, from the students in question) was that enormous progress was made. How many of us, who have struggled to learn some of these things, would have loved to have gotten an entire day of personalized instruction from people of that caliber?
Today could not have been a more beautiful day. It was cold this morning, very cold; I was shivering before we got to doing the land drills, which got moved into the garage, which was marginally warmer. I absolutely loathe leaving thermal units in the parking lot, or driveway, or garage; diving in cold water is hard enough without getting cold before you do it. I would have gotten into my undergarments almost immediately, had my truck not made an unscheduled trip back to the motel without me but with all my non tank attached dive gear.
There are a few changes to the drills, which are refinements but not substantive. Nonetheless, ten years of doing them one way made it extremely difficult to do it another, even when the changes were quite minor. I did a nice job of embarrassing myself during the garage drills (and eventually managed to remember to make the same mistakes at least once in the water). Learning a new skill takes a bit of repetition, but changing an old one takes a lot more!
Once we were absolutely sure that no one would give an "okay" sign at the wrong point in an S-drill, we repaired to the bay again. We were not as lucky as yesterday, and by the time I got there, the lot parking was gone. Luckily, there was on-street parking, and Dale and I were parked together, with Ian just on the other side of the road, so we were able to avoid being scolded for gearing up in insufficient proximity. All joking aside, there really IS a sense of team that builds in these classes, and we were helping one another with harnesses and gloves and hood zippers, and it all felt rather cozy, familiar, and pleasant. The bright sunshine probably helped, too.
We were working in the water today mostly with Alex, Koos and Guy today, with Alex the leader. He does a good job, staying very much on task and aware of time. The first dive was Basic 5 and Ian's double tank valve drill. Our descent was not the Three Stooges event that yesterday's had been, and I dearly love floating down like a leaf through the water in perfect consonance with the rest of my team. We managed to arrange ourselves on the line and wait in good order for the demonstrations, which were done in crisp and accurate style by Liz. When it was my turn, I fumbled through trying to remember that there is a prescribed hand for everything nowadays (and the reasons make sense, it's just hard for me to change), and I of course have never liked removing my mask in cold water, and I don't like it any more today than I ever did. PLEASE just rip the thing off my face, so I don't have to deal with the horrible anticipation of the face freeze! The reality is never as bad as I think it is going to be. The other thing that fascinates me is why a mask which fits perfectly if installed correctly at first, will NEVER EVER EVER stop leaking once it has been flooded or removed, no matter how carefully you resettle it.
Once everyone had had a chance to demonstrate that cold water on their face was not going to cause panic, we watched Ian march through his valve drill, and then we went back to the uplink and muddled through a min deco ascent. Ascents are one of the things that never starts out well in these classes, and this morning's was far better than yesterdays, and the afternoon dive was better yet again. I don't understand quite how people can learn so fast, with so little interim practice, but I've seen it happen in enough of these classes to know this exists, and is reproducible.
On the surface, we began the dratted GUE interminable in-the-water-while-you-are-shivering debrief. I know the theory behind it -- resting quietly on the surface for a while after a dive is a good strategy with respect to decompression. But a half hour of pre-dive stuff, followed by most of an hour of sitting still and doing not much, followed by 15 minutes of talking on the surface, is a recipe for some pretty impressive shivering on my part. I was delighted that Guy, before the second dive, talked about the fact that much of the pre-dive stuff can be done on land, thus avoiding the necessity for prolonged in-water talking and gear checking. In the summer, I can't wait to get in the water, but in the winter, my dives are all limited by thermal units, and I prefer not to spend them on administrative tasks.
We came out of the water into bright sunshine, which had at least the illusion of warmth. I decided not to swap out my tanks, given the remaining pressure, so I could wander around and talk, and make the obligatory inter-dive trip to the water. Everyone had the elegance not to notice.
We had our briefing on the second dive, which was to be S-drills and valve drills for all. Out we went, and drifted like autumn leaves down the upline, and arranged ourselves in good order facing Alex and Koos, who were to demonstrate the drills. We then attempted to arrange ourselves in a triangle at the end of the line, but the current was unhelpful. Once a buddy pair was deeply engaged in the engrossing process of sharing gas, it was pretty much beyond them to maintain position, and there was a frequent need to reset. I wish the water would schedule its movement outside of the class hours, honestly; Fundies is hard enough. With the exception of having to process quite consciously which hand did what, I thought I more or less marched through the drills, until I saw the video and gazed, horrified, at the remnants of what used to be pretty decent trim. All dives buddies in the near future are going to be asked to whack me upside the head if my knees drop. Interestingly, most folks have pretty good trim until task-loaded; I apparently have godawful trim UNTIL task loaded. Go figure.
At any rate, this dive was kind of fun, because I managed to run out of gas on it THREE TIMES. Now, there are lots of people who have run out of gas, and actually quite a few who have lived to tell about it, but I doubt many have done it three times in one dive. The second time was to surprise and harass Ian, who was doing so well with his skills that the instructors felt like throwing him a little extra challenge, and the third time was to annoy me, because I "ran out of gas" coincidentally with having my primary light fail, so I had to swim to my buddy and yank on his wing to tell him I needed gas. To his credit, by the time he had turned enough to see it was me, he already had his primary reg in his hand -- it was very neatly managed.
During this portion of the dive, Dale had been taken aside by Guy for specific back-kick work, which I did not know. I knew he had gone away with an instructor but not where, or what they were doing. The coaching paid off beautifully, since we watched video of a definite, effective back-kick during the evening debrief. All I knew was that they were doing something on the bottom that was resulting in our having to do our minimum deco ascent in a cloud of bubbles, which are surprisingly disorienting. But although not accurate, our ascent was precise, and it was actually fun in a Lawrence Welk sort of way.
Out of the water and out of the gear, we ran back to the classroom for the last of the academic modules. I really enjoyed the last section, which beautifully summarized how the various parts of the system lay out parameters within which we may safely dive and enjoy ourselves. I had never conceptualized GUE in quite that fashion, and I really liked the imagery and metaphors.
Tonight, the students gathered over pizza and beer to do the final exam, which is ostensibly an intellectual exercise, but is actually, as given, a powerful team-building experience. And here I am, staying up way too late to tell you guys about it (and I now owe Guy a beer).
---------- Post added February 22nd, 2015 at 07:11 AM ----------
I forgot to mention, in the late-night recap, that some of the most fortunate people in this class yesterday were the ones who were struggling, because they spent essentially the whole day getting one-on-one coaching from instructor interns, under the benign but observant gaze of Joakim. I have not seen them in the water again, but the report from the staff (and last night, from the students in question) was that enormous progress was made. How many of us, who have struggled to learn some of these things, would have loved to have gotten an entire day of personalized instruction from people of that caliber?
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