People Are Not Fish

The title may seem like a ridiculously obvious statement, but I think it's one with hidden depths (ha ha, geddit? Fish? Depths? Oh, never mind.) It was certainly a recurring thought during the continuation of my Open Water Diver course that took place this week. But I'm skipping ahead, I'll get to that later.

Can I Back Out?

As if the challenges of learning to dive with an ingrained fear of water were not enough, this week would prove to be increasingly challenging. Early last week, due to a mishap involving gravity and a hospital trolleycot with dodgy brakes, I injured my already weak back by (stupidly) catching a falling twenty-stone man. The good news was that the man was unhurt in the incident, the bad news was that I was now in increasing discomfort. After consultation with my physiotherapist, we agreed that although heavy lifting was unwise for a few days, it was important to continue to move it as much as possible and scuba lessons would be beneficial providing I wasn't lugging kit around.

Is it wrong that I was almost disappointed I couldn't even get a sick-note to get me out of my next near-drowning episode?

Why Isn't Underwater Purple?

I arrived at the Fin Divers unit for the start of my lesson, having only just completed the knowledge review required for the impending lesson. I had hurriedly swotted up on the surprisingly in-depth chapter on basic equipment and diving principles. Fortunately I was familiar with many of the fundamental concepts as part of my paramedic training.

Despite my prior knowledge, I was a little concerned that I had not prepared enough and I suspect that Matt, my Dive Instructor, thought the same. He was quite uncompromising in testing my knowledge, both by looking over our knowledge reviews and in the subsequent mini-exam. Fortunately I aced both, but I know I need to study harder and I have made a mental note to read through the chapter again.

With the examinations over, we were then subjected to another PADI training video with the trademark excruciating 'comedy' attempts. This one included more details about the diving environment and other equipment relevant to dealing with the conditions. I was intrigued to note the staged colour loss effect of increasing water depth, with the lower frequency reds disappearing first. I suppose this explains why everything is blue underwater, but I can't help wondering why it's not violet since that's the last colour of the visible spectrum.

The video also covered twenty-five gestures to aid communication underwater, all of which seemed very sensible. I did notice that there was neither a gesture for 'thank you' nor 'I don't understand'. I can only assume that the gesture system was invented by impolite smart-arses.

Frustrating Progress

When the time came for us to alight to the pool, my dive instructor was kind enough to make arrangements so that I would not be required to lift any of the equipment. I was both grateful and mildly embarrassed by this as I felt a bit like an invalid, but it was the sensible option. At least I assembled and checked my Buoyancy Control Device and air cylinder myself (under supervision) before others moved it for me to don in the water.

Once submerged, I acclimatised myself to the strangely isolating environment. I found it to be relaxing and peaceful whilst at the same time restrictive and claustrophobic. Once again the poolscape was filled with divers bobbing and floating about their business, but they were blurry figures due to my lack of contact lenses. However, as it was a lesson where instruction can only be given visually, I thought it wise to return my attention to my dive instructor.

After he gave a quick demonstration of a mask clearance, we students were each directed to perform the same task in turn. This is something I had practiced previously so I had little trouble, although I suspect that Darren would probably be the class expert given the number of enforced mask clearances his angular cheekbones had caused during the previous lesson. Chloe performed her task effortlessly too and then we familiarised ourselves with our alternate air sources (often referred to as an “octopus”).

Soon we were swimming around in the shallow end, some of us with more grace than others. Watching our dive instructor, he was able to drift along effortlessly with barely a variation in depth. On the other hand, I was still bouncing from pool floor to surface with every breath, despite the addition of a weight-belt which I thought was meant to reduce this effect. After a period of mild frustration it occurred to me that shallower breaths would minimise my buoyancy bounce. This technique worked to a degree, but it flew in the face of course information that stated long slow breaths were optimal in diving as they would compensate the anatomical dead-spaces of the human respiratory system. I considered holding my breath, but that is apparently the big no-no of diving, due to the possibility of internalised gas doing horrible things to our innards.

As Much as a Fish Needs a Bicycle

It was at this point that the “people are not fish” thought occurred to me. Fish have got moving around underwater sorted. They draw their oxygen from the surrounding water rather than canned air, so they naturally maintain neutral buoyancy. They've got a separate organ called a swim bladder to control their buoyancy. This makes perfect sense as they have evolved to perform well in the aquatic environment. On the other hand, fish are rubbish at walking whilst people are really good at it. These are simple, obvious truths. Who the hell are we to attempt to subvert the course of evolution? The old adage involving fish and bicycles can just as easily be reversed to apply to humans and fins.

Nonetheless I persevered, after all I wouldn't have much to write about if I just sat at the poolside watching the bubbles. Soon we were heading for the deep end where yet another of my physical deficiencies was about to be exposed; as a child I had often suffered from ear problems due to having narrow ear canals. To compound this I had suffered an ear injury whilst snorkelling a year ago, so I knew adulthood hadn't resolved the issue.

Blowing Chunks

Having seen my previous pathetic attempts to equalise my ears whilst simultaneously managing my buoyancy, the dive instructor took control of my BCD to allow me to concentrate on one thing. I was oddly elated to feel the air move through my ear canals without hindrance and I slowly sank without discomfort. Once at the bottom of the four-metre pool, for a while I was able to relax enough to get dangerously close to enjoying myself. We were directed to go for another swim where we could admire the human detritus that decorated the bottom of the pool. Sometimes being short-sighted has it's advantages.

This time I was less aware of my buoyancy bounce. Whether this was due to improving technique or simply because of more space, I couldn't be sure. One thing I did become aware of was the dryness of my throat and the increasing need to shift accumulating phlegm. Another concession the dive instructor had made for my back injury was to allow me to use his more padded BCD. It seemed impolite to hawk up a grolley in another man's breathing apparatus and I was confident of my regulator removal technique, so I took it out, cleared my throat and returned the regulator. This resulted in an emphatic finger-waggle from the dive instructor, so emphatic that it continued long after my repeated “okay” sign. I think I upset him. Oops.

Soon after, we were summoned together for another short 'charades' session, where we were required to report the air pressure reading on our Submersible Pressure Gauge via a series of hand-signals. This went swimmingly (ahem) then we were off on another circuit of the pool floor. This time I drifted upward a tad and on returning I started to get some discomfort in my left ear. As per our training, I swam up again and attempted to equalise, but nothing was moving. I communicated this to the dive instructor and we returned to the shallow end.

We gathered together at the dive instructor's behest and there was a brief period where some complicated gesticulations from him completely confused me, until I later found out that he was trying to draw my attention to Chloe who had taken to doing somersaults behind me. I suspect she's a ringer and has actually been diving for years, she seems far too comfortable down there. During my confusion I at least discovered the signal for “I don't understand”. It's pretty obvious really.

On arriving back on the surface, I was gently scolded for removing my regulator at depth. When I explained my reasons, Matt shrugged and stated he wasn't concerned about a bit of phlegm going through his regulator, after all he had vomited through it in the past!

So that was another session survived and, despite my frustrations, I have to admit finding some satisfaction in the brief moments where I felt in control. I can imagine if that was a constant state, floating around at the bottom of an exotic tropical sea might be quite magical.

But I am still not a fish.