When a new mask comes along, you just know. You know it’s the one. But only after it’s passed a scuba-style Rosie Project of specifications of course! A girl has standards 
Check out my new video on choosing the perfect mask. From finding the perfect fit to determining quality, I hope it helps you out this Summer! Click here!
I can’t hear. Well… not very well. Sounds distort and surround me, hit me from all sides. It’s all wrong.
I turn full circle to find out where, but I can’t see properly, no peripherals. Nothing. Though the landscape is lush with plants; colour is dulled. Red disappears.
Then there’s the animals, communicating no doubt, by each emitting their own musk. It is wasted on me. Scent is mute. No fragrance, odour, stench. Nada.
And no taste. Mouth only concerned with one thing. Breathing. Guess that’s kind of important.
Only one sense left… Will it stay? As evidence that my body is still mine? That something that makes me human still resides? But no, even touch is different in this place. The pressure, the temperature, the gloves. I cannot feel.
My body is not mine here, there is no gravity, no senses, of distance, of which way is up, of my usual vices. Of humanity.
But it is beautiful here, and there is so much more to gain. I give up my body willingly.
Bubbles, travel ever upwards, the only evidence that underwater, I might still be human.
(Pic – Diver bubble trail, Solomon Islands)
I learnt to dive in Australian Cool/Temperate waters.
These reached a glorious low of 14 degrees during Winter. I believe that experiencing diving in cold water, with so many other elements to consider and obstruct your learning process, makes for a diver who can enjoy both types of diving. I think I would have struggled with the cold more, if I had learnt say – in Fiji, and then been dipped into freezing, currenty, poor viz water and expected to know how to deal with that change.
So the ’6 Reasons Why Learning To Dive In Cold Water Will Make You A Better Diver’ Are –
1. Difficulty Levels. Tasks are more difficult to achieve in cold water and bad viz. Thick gloves, hoods and wetsuits hinder movement and make you a better diver in the long run. You learn to realise your body’s limits to temperature, and a different skill set in dealing with serious things like hypothermia; and annoying things like trying to do up a buckle underwater with numb fingers.
2. Quality Time. Meaning more time and attention from intstructors. People would generally take the ‘warm tropical dive followed by post-dive cocktails under a palm tree’ option. This means smaller classes/less students in cooler water climates.
3. Qualification. Dive charters in the tropics often only give patrons a ‘Try Dive.’ This (though fun) gives you no proper qualification, and is usually a one-off fast money spinner for the charter itself. You get your ‘Open Water Certificate’ if you endure a proper course.
4. Gear. Cool water diving involves a whole new set of gear to get used to. heat packs. Hoods and gloves. And dry-suits and semi-drys, which alter buoyancy and get you used to weight belt changes during preparation etc.
5. Warming Up! Huddling over a mug of hot chocolate post-freezing-dive, is like sensory overload! A hot choccy in the tropics just doesn’t have the same meaning. My other favourite reason is getting to wear humungous hoodies after!
6. Appreciation. Diving in the tropics for the first time, having trained for two years in cold water, was soooo eeeeesy!! I was able to appreciate where I was. And having learnt the skills in difficult conditions meant using them without being complacent to their value was awesome.
(Pic – buddies hooded up at Tasman Hauler site, Eden, Aus)
Thought I would kick this off with a story I wrote about my first dive in 2008. I can still remember that first ocean dive and thinking, ‘Yep, I’m hooked.’
~
‘Look down!’ That is the first instruction as soon as I hit the water, and I look down to see a dark shape gliding smoothly beneath us. A stingray, fairly large, amazing and gentle in its movements for something so big. I smile, but you can’t tell because the respirator is in my mouth. My buddy, much more comfortable in the water removes his and breathes a ‘wow’ in our general direction, then shoves his head back into the cold water to follow its movements again. It’s a special feeling, that we all saw something so beautiful, that we could talk about later. And even though that’s a common sight under the wharf, it will still continue to amaze me every time.
While I wait at the surface for my turn to descend with the divemaster, the others slowly disappear into the murky grey depths. The visibility is so grainy, that even when under, the others become blurry when they get even just a little ahead of me.
Touch down. We flurry the sand away from our landing place with our fins, and watch as baby stingrays vacate the area so we can kneel. They vary in size, some small like my hand, and all a patterned grey/brown. At their young age they haven’t developed barbed stings yet, but even if they had they are a docile creature not to fear.
We kneel in a circle, eyes glued to our instructor as he demonstrates skills for us to complete. We do each skill in turn. So many things to remember!
Then came the Blue Groper. I didn’t expect it to be so blue, or so large, or so sociable, but the he was all of those things and more. I first notice it when it is right next to us, slowly following, watching us sideways out of a glossy deep eye. Its body is bright, each large scale defined, and what looked like scars across one shiny side. Puppy-like and pushing at us. Perhaps wanting us to produce some snack for him!
Buoyancy was becoming easier, and we plane smoothly along together, watching as the ocean floor environment changed. Higher here, lower there, tiny corals, then sea grasses with leatherjackets hiding amongst the fronds. Then rocks, with sea urchins like well placed mines in the cracks, and fan worms retreating with a swish as we pass quietly overhead.
Suddenly barnacle encrusted pylons loom out of the edges of our vision, rising regally to the elusive surface. Sometime in our underwater venture we have turned back around to face the wharf, and at that moment I realise just how poor my navigation skills actually are.
Finally and with regret it is time to ascend. There is one final trial though…And I thought getting the wetsuit ON was hard work!
(Pic – Blue Groper)
(Logbook – Merimbula Wharf, Aus.)
Welcome to oceanlingo.com !
If you like diving and the ocean, then this is the place for you.
The ocean intrigues me, and the fact that we divers get to do the unthinkable, the unhuman, and ‘breathe underwater’ is something worth talking about.
So from one fellow diver to another, I look forward to many underwater adventures with you and expanding this community!
See you in the water,
Catherine
(Pic – Dive girl at Niue Island)
