#introduction dive

Introduction

Just like any job, I walk into the office and ask “what am I doing today?” The next question is the most important “what nationality (are the students)?” The answer pretty much summarises my day.

British, Australian, American, Scandinavian or Western European generally imply an easy day. Most speak English or at least understand the basics, and better still most can swim. (You may be surprised how many people try diving when they knowingly can’t swim). You pump your fist, “nice.”

You have pulled the short straw if the answer is Asian, from anywhere; Korea, Indonesia, Philippines, Japan, China. This is a generalization, but from experience they have limited English, and even more limited swimming ability.

This particular day I was pumping my fist; norwegians, a couple. “But one of them is Filipino, and can’t swim….” Nope, I’d pulled the short straw. But I was to be surprised and proud.

For introduction dives, or discover scuba dives, students jump into a pool before proceeding to the open water. The equipment is explained, skills are performed, a swim is had. As an instructor this allows us to identify problems and plan or accept the dive for what it will be; good, bad or chaotic.

The first time I put my regulator in and my head underwater during my open water course, I started signaling frantically to the instructor, “up, up, up.” He kept me down. I had water in my mask, a small puddle under the nose. His encouragement wasn’t so calming, “you’re underwater, it’s going to happen, get used to it.” So I sucked it up and dealt with it. Some students don’t even last this long. As soon as their eyes are under, before they’ve even drawn breath, they pop back up sputtering. This is what I have come to expect from Asians. And I expected no different from my Filipino girl. Before we descend for the first time, the girls hands are shaking. I can see her questioning herself, “why am I doing this?” It’s something I ponder too. Is it because she wants it, or because he does?

She descends. I hold onto her BCD. Maintain eye contact. Signal, “in, out, in out.” And she doesn’t bolt. She closes her eyes, takes a few deep breathes, and kneels. I am surprised. First breath, second breath, third breath, tenth breath. Maybe this will be alright.

When asked to perform the skills, she signals, “wait.” Takes a few deep breaths, steels herself for the skill and completes it perfectly. But these are the easy skills. The mask skill is still to come and it takes a few tries. Instead of opening the mask bottom to clear any water, she opens the top and fully floods the mask. But she doesn’t freak. She continues trying, not understanding why it isn’t working, unable to see the signals I’m giving as the chlorine is burning her eyes. But after constantly reflooding it 5-6 times, she bolts to the safety of the surface where it doesn’t matter from where she opens the mask, the water is cleared. We discuss. We descend. We succeed. We practice again.

The swim in the pool determines whether I need to grow an extra arm for the dive. Here she doesn’t disappoint, it’s as I expect. Her legs move, the calf muscles twitch, but they have no effect on her position in the pool. She stays in one spot, on the bottom. I will be pulling her along next to me.

For the dive we go to my least favourite dive site. At 12metres all the coral is dead due to dynamite fishing 10 years earlier and repetitive storms which has tossed the coral like it’s in a washing machine so many times, it is only rubble upon the slope. The main feature of the site is a wreck, which means every diver ends up at the wreck from no matter which depth they have been. Sometimes there are more divers on the wreck than fish. Today though, the wreck is beautiful. No current, 30 metres visibility and with the sun directly overhead the colours are vibrant. My office today is breathtaking.

The dive goes as planned for the most part. She tries to swim. I’m doing most of the work, kicking for two of us. Every now and then I let her go, but with her legs slightly underneath her, she just kicks herself up. Her partner swims along independently behind. He definitely needs to use the mask skill, it’s not from his Viking-like moustache, but from the giant smile planted on his face. It also makes me smile. He loves it, and I feel lucky that I get to introduce him to this other world.

Just after the wreck, the videographer spots an octopus. Normally you see an octopus after it has spotted you and is trying to hide. This it achieves in a few ways:

octopi use a network of skin cells called chromatophores to change seamlessly into the surrounding area, not only changing colour but also texture and posture.

octopi have no bones or skeleton, internally or externally, allowing them to contort and squeeze into very small crevices.

octopi release an ink obscuring the attacker’s view and contains a substance, which dulls the attackers sense of smell, allowing the octopi to flee.

if it is attacked the octopi can detach the tentacle and regrow it later….

This one wasn’t fleeing. It was hunting. Previously, it was believed that octopi tentacles are all arms, when in fact two are used more like legs. The octopus was on the tips of two tentacles (or legs), like a tripod and tip-toeing across the sand. It’s arms lash out, changing from white to deep red (potentially demonstrating anger). And….that’s all I see.

The Filipino girl’s mask has flooded. She is trying to clear it, but like in the pool she keeps flooding it. She remains calm. She doesn’t panic. Just stares back at me, trustingly, while I re-demonstrate. But she continues to flood it. I look beseechingly at her and beneath to the octopus. The hunt is over. The tentacles completely extended, they’re changing to blue. Maybe it has a crab or clam and is using its beak to pry open the victim. But we are going up slowly. My student has decided she can’t fix the mask underwater. Her partner ascends too.

“Was that an octopus? I’ve never seen anything like it.” *sigh* Me neither. I have seen them hunting at night, but never during the day, and never with so little disdain for the 4 pairs of eyes staring at it, stalking it just like it stalks it’s prey. I will have to watch the video, and be satisfied I witnessed at least 20 seconds of the 4-minute display. Octopus only live for 12-18months. After consummating the male dies and the female dies shortly after her eggs hatch, as she is weak having starved herself while nursing them and providing oxygen to the 100,000 – 5000,000 eggs. Only one or two will survive…

The girl is very apologetic. But she is enjoying it just as much as him. Normally, I would recommend we don’t descend again, if I’m afraid they will panic or if they’ve ascended too fast...but these guys are super sweet, are super excited and I don’t have the heart to say they can’t descend. And I’m glad we do, for I am yet to experience my proudest moment.

After a few minutes dragging the Filipino girl along, I let her go. She kicks herself up again. *sigh* I ready for a speedy swim and reach. I can see the action playing in my head, exactly what I need to do. But instead she stops kicking, breathes out and slowly descends without me doing anything, but watching, taunt with anticipation that I will need to react quickly. She is back on my level. This happens for the rest of the dive, but she understands and is independently solving her own problems. I am very chuffed she manages 15 minutes without any direct assistance from me. At the end of the dive, the sense of achievement she feels and the happiness the couple share, has turned the day from “a drawing the short straw day”, to a fist pumping day.