I'm trying to get back into diving. Went to Edmonds the other day and had horrible
visibility, but it got me re-acquainted with my basics.
Tonight I went diving with a new group of folks (old friends, actually) at Alki Cove
2. I've done the dive a dozen or more times, so it was a great second round of dives.
We did a pre-dive briefing where the dive master was fairly nervous about me tackling
a 90+' dive with Nitrox after a year being absent. I said I'd watch myself and was
going to take it easy. Down we went.
Awesome dive. I did great on my air consumption and bouyency control. Looked at the
I-beams, we through the honeybear (both landmarks in Cove 2). Just all around a very
enjoyable dive.
Get out, switch tanks.
More folks show up. We mix up the buddies a little bit. Three of us are partnered
and we head out.
We didn't have a super clear dive plan. Rich is leading, he's the guy I know of the
group. Last dive on the way back he was slightly off on navigating to the shore, but
overall a very competent diver. We descend to 100'.
Start working our way back up. Boy, we've been at 80' for a while. Shouldn't it be
getting shallower soon? The honeybear is only in 60' of water (or so). Look at my
air gauge - plenty left.
Something wierd happens. Rich is looking around. Seargant Pepper (the other diver
with us) is up "talking" with him on a slate. Does Rich know where he is? 80' is a
lot of water. I wonder how that woman ended up at 100' with no air. Do I have enough
air? 80' is a lot of water.
It hits.
Panic.
I've never felt anything like this. I know that I'm fine. I logically know I have
plenty of air. But suddenly -
YOU MUST BE AT THE SURFACE. HUMANS DON'T BREATH UNDERWATER.
Calm down. Look at the gauge. Plenty of air.
GET TO THE SURFACE. BREATH! BREATH!
I do a quick sanity check, yep, I'm panicing. I signal the other guys - we have to
surface. I can't convince my body that everything is OK.
My training kicks in - you need to ascend slowly. You need to focus on the other divers.
You need to remember to watch your gauges. Breath slowly. Long shallow breaths. No
need to panic, just surface and call the dive.
SURFACE! WATER! BREATH!
The other guys are ascending. I'm slowing working through the steps to go up. I don't
want to pop up too quickly. The other divers come down to check on me. I signalled
for a surface, but I'm still sitting at the bottom.
Slowly I start to ascend. A little too quickly, slow down. Then sink. Ugh. Ascending
again.
Need to stop at 15' for a saftey stop. The other guys are going straight up. They
have no idea what is going on. I figure that I better go up to them.
Get to the surface. Panic is all gone.
Horrible dive. I'm happy that I called the dive and got out. I should have been clearer
in my communication with my buddies about what was going on. We could have all done
a slow ascent with a safter stop. As it was, we weren't down long enough to really
have any major worries. All the dive computers were only slightly unhappy.
Looking back, it is tremendously interesting how quickly and all encompasing panic
can be. I've never had this type of panic in any situation. I could really feel it
clawing to get control. I'm so happy that I had taken so many training classes that
walked through the symptoms and how to handle it.
My dive buddies were great. They did exactly the right thing the entire time. They
(of course) knew exactly where they were. Rich and Seargant were looking at a slate
the Seargant found on the bottom, there was no confusion. We were on track to hit
the honeybear, it was just taking a few minutes longer than last time. Both guys were
quick to say that they fully supported calling the dive. They where very confused
by my behavior, but no one was in any danger.
I learned a couple important lessons:
-
Make sure you understand the dive plan, how long each leg should take, depths, etc.
-
If you feel that something is wrong, determine the correction, communicate your plan
(with your slate if need be), and then act deliberately
-
Panic is real, and can't easily be controlled
I related the story to Megan, her advice - you need to get back into the water as
soon as possible.