Drinking the Kool Aid (in a good way) …

March 23rd, 2010

It was a slightly sleepy but excited group gathered outside the dive centre at 8am on Sunday morning for the second day of our Instructor Development Course (IDC). Before we could start though, Tim had to go on an urgent mission for milk, as we’d almost cleaned out the Divecrew fridge on Saturday.

With our hands wrapped around warm mugs of welcome caffeine-filled drinks, we settled down for the first session – an introduction to teaching the PADI way. This would take most of the morning, punctuated by coffee breaks and chocolate biscuits. In his trademark energetic style, Collin took us through the theory that underpins the PADI course materials.

Theory, I hear you ask? Don’t instructors need to be good divers?

Learning to be a PADI instructor isn’t about learning to be a good diver, that’s what the Divemaster course is there for. You don’t get through that course with Divecrew without doing a lot of diving in really challenging conditions, diving with and learning from a lot of very different and amazing people, and meeting stringently high standards for skills and assessments.

Now, it’s about tidying up our skills to reach perfect demonstration quality – but more importantly, it’s about how to teach a PADI course, to PADI standards, in such a way that my students want to come back and keep doing more. When I learned to dive several years ago, I chose to learn with PADI, and since then, I’ve chosen them to continue to develop my skills and career. So hopefully, one day, my future students will choose to sit where I am now.

For that to happen, I think it’s vital that as an instructor, I use and promote a system that I have complete confidence in, and instill that same confidence in my students. After all, if I didn’t, what might happen? If I was simply given a pile of materials and told to teach them according to the standards, I might wonder whether I could do better myself. I might scoff at some of the standards and decide they aren’t really necessary.

Q: So how do PADI convince us to teach the course their way?
A: By explaining WHY it’s a better way.

So, the IDC starts with lots of background on how the materials have been developed (over many years, with the aim to get students having fun and diving) and why the courses are taught they way they are (based on sound educational theory and refined over the years).

I’ve gone off on a bit of a tangent here, but what I wanted to get across is just a little bit of the strength of the impact that the IDC has already had on me. I’m not one to blindly drink the kool aid, in fact I’m generally pretty skeptical and prone to questioning. And sure, I’ve heard criticisms of PADI – I’m sure there aren’t many experienced dives who would say they hadn’t.

Sharing the background, the experience, the explanation, of the PADI system right at the start of the IDC, provides a clear justification of why things are done this way. Criticisms aren’t overtly acknowledged, but the ‘why?’s are answered.

So I found myself nodding along while reading the pre-course materials, and as the first day progressed, the jigsaw pieces of information already floating around in my mind were slotted neatly into place. Now, as I read the recommendations in the course guides, the philosophy starts to make more sense, and I see better how all the programs fit neatly together.

So I guess this is what I learned in the pre-reading was ‘Affective Learning’. Now I’m in the right frame of mind to start learning how to teach a specific course. I now believe that following the PADI guidelines and standards for that course is the right way to do it, and better than that, I understand WHY.

So yeah, like I said yesterday – this time, I did drink the kool aid (in the good sense, that is!) I’m lucky that I get a buzz from learning anyway, but when I believe in what I’m doing, it’s just that extra bit of motivation. I won’t stop asking ‘why’ though. :)

What also struck me during the classroom sessions – and in fact the pre-reading as well – is that the IDC course is run in exactly the same way that we are being taught to teach. In case you’re not familiar with it, PADI ask you to present the knowledge development with an introduction (tell them what you’re going to tell them), a body (tell them) and a summary (tell them what you’ve told them).

Sounds obvious, perhaps, especially if you regularly present as part of your job … until you really dissect one of your presentations (which I suddenly found myself doing on Monday morning … and I definitely came up wanting).

The IDC provides a clear, detailed structure for each section in the presentation. This follows through to the IE – the evaluation criteria are completely transparent, we all know already exactly what we have to do to score a perfect 5 – just teach it exactly the way PADI want.

I think all instructor candidates get stressed about the IE, but the early transparency of the evaluation criteria really helped me to ditch some of my fears, simply because it’s not an unknown anymore.

Exam situations, particularly presenting within them, will always give me butterflies (and I suspect that’s true of most people) but by the end of this course I hope that’s the only reason I’ll have butterflies. I’ll know what’s expected, and I’ll know that I can do it, I just have to slow down and focus on doing it. Repetition, repetition, repetition … that’s what it’s going to be about. Just like all the PADI courses. And the butterflies should just serve as a reminder to focus, not to be complacent, because that’s when mistakes will happen.

But back to "tell them what you’re going to tell them …"

As we sat in the classroom watching Collin, I could have ticked off each of the boxes on my evaluation form. There’s the contac
t*, the key points we’re about to learn, the conduct, the training aids. It’s like a reinforcement each time you see it … "ah yes, I like that contact, this is working for me…" or, "Oh, now he’s summarising it, so that’s how it’s done, I can appreciate how that helps to reinforce it …"

With our minds boggling from the classroom sessions, it was time to adjourn to the pool for our skills circuit. For the three of us taking our AI, this would form part of our assessment, as well as providing Collin with an idea of areas we would need to work on for both the IE, and future teaching. While a score of 3 is a pass at the IE, our future students will benefit far more if our demonstrations are good enough to get a score of 5 – so that’s what we’re all encouraged to aim for.

We all scored around 94%, which was pretty incredible – but then again, we’re a pretty incredible bunch of candidates! :) (hey – if I can’t blow my own trumpet on my blog from time to time, when can I?) Collin did pick up a number of things, promising us workshops on key skills such as CESA to ensure that we’re all perfect on the day and when we teach. Geoff – a contact lens wearer – provided the afternoon’s comedy moment on his no-mask swim, when he lost his direction with his eyes shut, and didn’t quite end up where he had meant to.

We finished off with more rescue practice, this time with pocket masks – much more pleasant for the victim, far less splashing! I was rescuing Marky Mark, who sinks in a wetsuit – even without a weight belt – making finishing the skill slightly more challenging!

The final session of the day was confined water training, which was largely a reinforcement of the afternoon’s learning. We split into groups and were tasked with sequencing the skills for a confined water dive – Tim, Duncan and I had different opinions on the best way to conduct Confined Water Dive 2 in Farnborough pool, especially as Collin had reminded us that Fun and Practice is not optional!

It was a good reminder that the course can be adapted and there’s no one right way – even slightly different pools can call for a different plan. And the best bit? Collin made us all tea while we were debating (yes, you did read that right!)

So now for a little teaching and feedback practice …

I particularly liked that he put plenty of milk in it, however I did notice that it was a little pale, therefore may I suggest leaving the bag in longer next time?

Now as divers we can all enjoy better tea from our Course Director, and the value to us is that we will be more awake for the rest of his afternoon lessons … ;)

By 8:15, the wine gums were all gone, and Collin was winding up the last slide. I think it’s fair to say we were all pretty tired – even I had run out of questions – and it was about time to go home and reflect.

And so Day 2 concluded. In case you couldn’t tell, I’m absolutely loving it and I can’t remember the last time I was so motivated to learn something new. I like the intensity, it’s driving me on!

I’m a little bit sad that there is a break of nearly two weeks, and I almost wish that I was going on to Day 3 instead of back to work. I really hope I can sustain that energy for the next two weeks, use the break to continue with the reading and revision, and start back on Good Friday with the same enthusiasm. Bring it on!

* A contact is a story that the student can relate to that is relevant to what is being taught. For example, discussing the attributes of a good teacher from school is a good contact that Collin has used to help us understand the importance of instructor attitude (and, according to Tim – good legs).

Realising the dream … when enough is never enough!

March 20th, 2010

Hello again. I know I’ve been away for ages … so I’ll cut a long story short (I might come back and tell a bit more of it later).

After returning from Bonaire last summer, I completed my last confined water assignment, got signed off for my medical, and was finally given the long-awaited green t-shirt – yes, I was a PADI Divemaster. Let me tell you, that is a fantastic feeling.

“I’ve come far enough,” I insisted to Collin and anybody else who would listen. “I’m happy being a Divemaster.” I really was. I spent most of my summer weekends dawdling around underwater, somewhere off the south cost, so much so that by the time I went with Divecrew to the Maldives in November, I was able to hit my 200th dive in warm, blue water watching Mantas.

By that time, Tina had completed her Assistant Instructor … and it started to look like kind of fun. It wasn’t long until I found myself hinting to Collin over cocktails that if he ever found enough people to run a part-time AI course at the weekend, to please let me know. And of course … he did.

“I don’t want to do the full instructor course though,” I said firmly. “Assistant instructor is enough.”

In January, when I finally got around to completing my EFR Instructor, there I was with Tina, Tim and Geoff – all of whom I would soon have the pleasure of joining once again to do my AI course, while all three of them continued on to also complete their OWSI with two others. Learning First Aid is not one of my passions (but it was either EFR refresher or instructor), so the course was a pleasant surprise – it was a thoroughly enjoyable and worthwhile weekend, with a great group of people.

Over lunch on Saturday, Tina casually mentioned that the OWSI course was only “the rest of the Easter weekend, plus one more weekend in May to complete it … then the IE.” For some reason I’d had in my mind that it would be another two weeks or so, and I certainly hadn’t realised there was a part time course on offer. The cost was also less than I’d realised, having already paid out for the AI anyway … and of course, with the IDC changing in July of this year, I would also have to buy new materials if I did it later … oh what the hell, I thought, I already know now I’m going to go for it, so why fight it? (did I mention that Tina does the marketing for Divecrew?)

So where does this leave me? Well, I’m now sat here at nearly 11pm after the first IDC prep day, still reeling from everything we’ve taken in today, and buzzing enough to write my first dive blog post in nearly a year. I’m so excited about becoming a dive instructor. It was the original dream born in Thailand nearly two years ago, and although I’m not sure travelling is what I want to do anymore, I do know that I want to be able to do more than just lead dives and teach the odd few skills.

There’s something special about embarking on an IDC with a group of people who I already consider to be good friends. I already feel like I’m a part of something that’s much bigger than just me (hopefully) completing a course and passing my instructor exam. I’m so glad now that I decided to go ahead and do the full course – I really think that if I hadn’t, I would have signed up for it today. I would have been so sad at the thought of the other five going on to complete the OWSI, and not being a part of it.

The first day has been spent energising the group and introducing us to the course itself, broken up with a couple of hours of skill practice in the pool, and finished off with a yummy Chinese meal with the whole group – nothing too strenuous just yet, anyway. Tomorrow the real fun starts.

Hmmm, did I say I was going to keep it short? You should have known better. OK, OK, I’ll leave it there for now … I need to get my beauty sleep now, it’s an 8am start tomorrow … yawn …

We’re on Island Time …

June 4th, 2009

The plane touches down on the tarmac, and time starts to slow … ahhh … we’re in Bonaire, where the diving is 24-7, and you only have to come out of the water for happy hour.

Diving in beautiful blue water At Buddy’s Dive resort, the holiday started with an orientation talk followed by a dive on the house reef, after which we were free to explore the rocky coastlines and dive as much as we liked. For me, that meant I was in the water at every opportunity, clocking up 29 dives over the nine days we were there, and earning the title of scubaholic!

I started cracking the dive whip over dinner on the first night, when I persuaded my room mates Sue W, Sue S and Barbara to join me for a pre-breakfast dive. We found a small sea turtle, numerous eels, and beautiful sponges and corals – both Sues were keen photographers and were already coming out with some marvellous photos.How rude!

After a well earned breakfast, we had a nice slow start to the day, congregating around 10am in our trucks to load up with nitrox tanks at the drive through. Somehow everything was organised but relaxed, and finally we’re all set to gowp-content/uploads/2010/03 and get wet.

The first site we stopped at was Jeff Davis memorial, which had a fairly difficult looking rocky climb down to the beach, so we carried on to Weber’s Joy, which looked easier. The coastline around Bonaire is made up of coral rocks with some sandy inlets that provide slightly easier entry, and although the wind was high the sea was relatively calm. As a large group, it took quite some time for everybody to get in the water in their buddy pairs, then we descended on to the reef and were off! We were all excited to see another sea turtle, which was to become something of a trend over the next few days.

Kate found this tiny seahorse On the second dive at Andrea II, Kate’s amazing spotting skills found us a seahorse at about 17m. The tiny creature was wrapped around a soft coral and camouflaged within the plant. With so many photographers in the group we were there for quite a while, but finally everybody had taken many photos and we were off again. 

We trooped home for lunch, then it was back off on the house reef for a last dive of the day for the hard core divers, another turtle, and this time a spotted stingray! I’ve seen blue-spotted rays in the Red Sea before but nothing quite as magnificent as this one as it glided through the shallows.

Sea turtles at Andrea IIThe next day was much the same, with a smaller group heading out to Andrea I for the final dive of the day. We were kitting up when, “Bollocks!” Collin had left his regulators behind – oh no! He entirely redeemed himself though when, after he had returned with them, we descended to find three sea turtles, who obligingly swam together for us as we looked on in awe. Had our fearless leader been more organised, we would have missed this beautiful sight altogether :)

On day three, there were several of us out for the last dive to Alice in Wonderland (link to my blog post), and Collin asked me if I wanted to lead it. “Sounds like a fairytale to me,” said Sparkles. I was keen on the leading, but nervous not to mess it up! Luckily I managed to get us all back just fine, and we even saw two spotted stingrays! We got out to find that Mike and Elaine’s truck had a flat tyre, which took the combined effort of the men to fix it, while the ladies loaded up the kit. Thank God we still got back in time for our happy hour cocktails!

DSCF0178 updated After several more days of clear blue waters, picturesque reefs, and sea turtles, a smaller group of us split off to do the wreck course, which Collin and Penny would be teaching, and I would be assisting on. We ranged from the more serious wreck heads (Mike and myself), to those who were more indifferent, through to the almost downright terrified! The wreck course supplied plenty of opportunity for innuendo around penetration, helped along by the “slippery dick” fish that we had identified from the reef guides, and not to mention the fun we had tying people – well, mainly me – up with knots and lines. Depending who you are, this could certainly be one of the perks of the TDM role!

The wreck course (see my blog post on the Divecrew blog) ran over two days, including navigation, mapping and penetration, as well as some extra skills thrown in – a practice of DSMB release (no, Sparkles, do not attach the SMB directly to the reel – that’s what the line is for!) and swimming with the alternate air source. I was able to demonstrate this with Penny, while trying desperately to remain still on the sandy bottom while the waves crashed above me!

Fun was had at the manager's Rum Punch party With the wreck course complete, it was time to enjoy the manager’s Rum Punch party, and fun was certainly had by all as the free punch flowed, well, freely! So many photos, so few that are suitable for public consumption … it was definitely the most enjoyable assessment I have done!

Our penultimate day of diving was Sunday, the most exciting of the whole trip, with Tina’s DCP in the morning followed by an afternoon on one of the Buddy Dive boats. The brave divers who volunteered to role play for Tina sweltered through a half hour briefing, during which time we tried every trick in the book to put her off, but she covered virtually every single thing. Gutted!

Acting as a new open water div
er with thousands of pounds worth of brand new kit, Collin managed to put several pieces together the wrong way around while eagle eyed Tina corrected him, then he jumped in and sank to the sandy bottom tank first. Meanwhile, Penny the BSAC diver was hard at work looking for some kind of unexpected tool to take on the dive, and finally found a plastic cutlass, coming at us shouting … “I kill you!” I was laughing so hard I nearly had a damp wetsuit before entering the water, while Collin almost choked when she came at him with it!

I was “unable” to descend, but as Tina had not briefed the “abort dive” signal I continued to try. Her husband was my buddy, and he was distraught at the thought of the bollocking he would receive later, as he accompanied me to the surface.

I've found a seahorse! But Tina survived all of our efforts, and we went on a mission to hunt down the seahorses. I spotted a porcupine fish on a rock, and as Collin photographed it I hovered along the nearby rocks. There was a bright orange blob in front of me … hold on a minute … that’s a bloody SEAHORSE! I’ve found it, I’ve found it! Collin turned to tell the others and found its mate, curled around the soft coral just behind us. What a dive! We all signed the cutlass afterwards, which Tina kept as a souvenir.

In the afternoon, the first dive site the boat took us to was my namesake – Joanne’s Sunchi, which means Joanne’s kiss. Luckily I got away with not having to kiss anybody! Our dive guide Scott took us to see another seahorse, before bringing us back to the boat, where we hovered upside down for a while before clambering out. Well, why not?

Frogfish at Something Special The second dive was at Something Special, which was a pretty reef with a fair current driving us along on the way back, so that I barely had to fin at all. Cue the Superman poses! We were almost back at the boat when our guide banged his tank – he had found the elusive yellow frogfish! Several thousand photos later, and we were headed back to Buddy’s again, for happy hour!

Monday concluded our diving with Kate’s 150th at Oil Slick Leap – a wonderful site characterised by a particularly high entry point. Although I’m slightly scared of heights, I chose to step from the highest point – the water really does slap the back leg as you hit it! My navigation point for the beach was a pair of sponge corals in a ‘V’ sign at 9m, which was amusing. We didn’t see anything spectacular, but it was a nice last dive.

Steve "Sparkles" gets in touch with his pink side. With no more diving and a late morning ahead of us, the evening was earmarked for some drinks. We congregated in the bar in time for happy hour, drinking rum punch and half price Hula Hula before we meandered on to the restaurant up the road. I chose Pink Panties from the cocktail menu, while Sue sipped something with Blue Curacao and we took photos of Sparkles with a pink frothy concoction.

With the meal out of the way, it was time for the diver awards – everybody on the holiday was recognised for some fun that they had added. Tina’s achievement on her DCP was closely followed by Steve’s “Sparkles” award – he had not noticed the misspelling of his name until almost a week in, which would cost him a nickname for life!

Frank’s award reflected his outstanding ability to eat steak every night, mostly in Patagonia. Steve N’s talent for karaoke was recognised (just wait for the Christmas party), and he quickly lived up to it with an ad hoc performance at the table. Sue W’s legendary mobile medicine cabinet will not be forgotten, and Sue S was considered the most improved holiday diver on her first Divecrew trip alone, after successfully mastering both her computer and camera.

Me with my plaque - Scubaholic - Addicted to What's BelowElaine, who had managed to remain below the radar for most of the holiday, will be remembered for the one occasion she left her computer behind on the truck; while Mike was the deepest penetrator from the wreck course …

Kate’s milestone was her 150th dive – the last of the trip – and the swashbuckling Pennyfish would forever be immortalised after her performance on Tina’s DCP!

Poor Barbara had never quite managed to fight off the jet lag, so she snoozed over her plate while Collin produced her certificate for the most ever bikinis seen on a single holiday (one for every single day!) I was recognised as a genuine scubaholic, and for “skin diving” at 30m – well, I might have been posing for a photo …

Do you know who I am? Collin Miles, CD, MI, Staff, Shopkeeper ...And of course that only leaves one award … our esteemed Course Director Collin (Do You Know Who I Am?), without whom we would never have been in the sunny Caribbean! We had presented Collin with his well earned plaque and thanks earlier in the evening.

So now as the plane edges ever closer back to the UK and my thoughts are turning back to the murky waters of Wraysbury and the delights of Slough pool, I’m feeling a mixture of sadness that the holiday is over, delighted with the memories and friendships that I’m taking with me, and impatient for the next one. And did I mention that I now only have one more confined water assessment left to complete my Divemaster? Nearly there …

It only remains to say a huge thank you to Divecrew for making the holiday not just smooth but bloody awesome!

 

Dive<br />
crew Holidaymakers

I didn’t take all of the photos in this post, so many thanks to Tina and Steve “Sparkles”, Penny, and Sue S for the underwater shots!

Update: my Bonaire Trip Review is now also on Divecrew, and running again next year!

I'm Famous!

April 25th, 2009

IMG_2790 The toughest part of getting my Master Scuba Diver turned out not to be getting fifty dives under my belt. Nor completing the five required specialities. In fact, getting around to posting the application, and then locating my certificate once it had arrived in the dive centre was far more challenging!

My journey towards MSD began with my Open Water and Advanced courses in Egypt in June and July, 2007. On returning the UK, I completed my first speciality – a Drysuit course in Leybourne Lake, where we visited the garden gnomes and sweated through a sunny day in woolly bear undersuits.

After some pleasure diving in Hawaii and Thailand, followed by a chilly dip in Stoney Cove and a day in the classroom for my EFR course, it was off to Chesil Beach for the Rescue course – still one of my favourite ever diving experiences. The next tick in the box was for my Deep course in September, another fantastic weekend, and a qualification that enabled me to go to 40m – handy when I dived on the Rosalie Muller in the Red Sea shortly after.

Shortly after the deep course, I finally hit fifty dives, thanks to many weekends assisting and pleasure diving at Vobster and Chepstow.

With two specialities down, I spent an evening playing with numbers and learned to analyse the contents of my tank to get my Nitrox course – the first dry course I'd done. I found the Nitrox course easy and fun, mostly because of my geeky affinity for maths and numbers, including dive tables.

I was desperate to complete my wreck course and learn about laying lines, partly because I wanted to be able to assist on future wreck courses, but I was alone in this among the Divecrew customers. I signed up to do the course while on my liveaboard trip last October, exploring the Chrisoula K (my favourite wreck to date), mapping the Salaam Express and laying my line just inside the Thistlegorm.

The last course was the Drift Diver, which was a bit of an easy ride (in more ways than one). We rode the currents around The Brothers, and with knowledge reviews signed, I was all done!

Now for the hard part: obtaining, filling in, and posting off the forms. Sigh. It was mid-January when I finally completed the paperwork. I would be misrepresenting it if I claimed it was a long and arduous task, but it did entail actually looking up information from my logbook and buying a stamp. At last it was sent, and then it arrived back at the dive centre!

I turned up one Monday with a list as long as my arm of things I needed to sort out with Collin, a tank to return, a slate belonging to one of the other DMs to give back … as I got in the car to leave, I realised the MSD had been forgotton – dammit! I returned on Saturday with a long shopping list, but this time it was not forgotten: Terry located the certificate and a frame, the photo was done (thank God I was wearing a nice top and make up!) and I am now immortalised on the Wall of Fame.

Check it out on the Divecrew Wall of Fame.

Coastguard to the Rescue

April 22nd, 2009

Before the dive, waiting for the briefing "If you don't feel well after your dive, tell me straight away, and we'll get you on to the O2," the skipper pointed towards the white cylinders in the front of the boat. "I'll have to notify the coastguard, and well … you know where you're going after that."

To the pot …

Blunt as it was, it's all part and parcel of a normal briefing – I never expected it to happen. It was something of a shock when Ashley and I got back on the boat to see the young diver who had been diving with his dad breathing from the O2. I wondered if he'd just had a bit of a scare, but it quickly became apparent that he had sadly got a real bend.

The helicopter starts to kick up the spray After diving to 27m, they had ascended to around 14m when his integrated weight fell out of his BCD. Unable to prevent a fast ascent, he bobbed up to the surface faster than he could breathe out the excess nitrogen, booking himself a swift helicopter ride to the recompression chamber.

While all of the divers were surfacing and getting back on board the boat, drinking hot chocolate and chicken soup, the coastguard helicopter was already on its way. As it approached, it swung down behind our boat, kicking up the spray behind us until we had to turn our faces away. The skipper pushed the boat faster, while a man was lowered on a winch, dangling steadily closer and closer, until he was able to step on to the boat and release the cord. He looked around and announced, "well, divers certainly don't get any better looking, do they?" Charming, I must say.

The helicopter looked close enough to touch, I couldn't believe they could get so close to the boat. It rose and moved away, and the boat slowed down while they made preparations to carry the injured diver and his father away to get medical help.

Nice man with the coastguard helps the injured diverThe helicopter returned a few minutes later, even closer than before. The diver's father was first to be lifted up into the helicopter – with a harness strapped around his chest he was swiftly wound in, until we could see people helping him through the open side. The injured diver was lifted together with the other man who had been lowered on to the boat, and they were gone.

I was amazed at the speed and efficiency of the rescue, and how calm and organised all the people involved were. Even following safe diving practices doesn't always prevent accidents, so my thoughts were with the young diver and his family, and wishing him a speedy recovery.

On a positive note: the coastguard were filming the incident for television! If I find out when and where, I'll post a link …  Up, up and away (too quickly for me to take a picture)

Assessments, assessments, assessments …

April 19th, 2009

I might have been quiet for the first few months of this year, but that's not to say I haven't been busy nibbling away at what's left of my Divemaster course.

I've completed three more pool assessments, taking my total now to four. I worked with a few different instructors, so it's been interesting to see the different styles. We've had some larger groups of students, up to five or six, which makes it more challenging to complete the course.

I've shivered through another Open Water course in early March at Wraysbury, making a total of three. At least we had good weather, except for the dive during which I was surface cover. Under the water, the students missed the dramatic but short lived thunder and lightening, while Terry's coat and Alan's umbrella kept me dry.

I earned a 4.8 for co-ordinating and rotating four students through a navigation and CESA underwater. I was particularly proud given that they were all a similar size, and wearing similar drysuits. I have to admit I didn't really know who was who underwater, but I at least kept track of who'd done what.

While spending time in the pool was useful to keep up the diving over the winter, I still felt the effect of a two month break between open water dives on my first dive at Wraysbury – it was a bit disorientating. Next year, I have my fingers crossed that it won't be quite as cold! I'll also try and get out for a pleasure dive if I have a long break again.

I've also done my Rescue assessment, Kit Exchange, and Mask removal skills. The Rescue took a bit of practice, which I was lucky to get time to do one afternoon with Andrew. After three attempts, I had still missed out various vital points while trying to drag Neil out of Slough pool, but I was at least more confident that I knew the sequence. After the previous Rescue practice, I had also nailed bringing the unresponsive diver to the surface.

It took another three attempts with Terry one Friday night to get to the standard I needed to, but I made it. I just hope I only get to use it to teach other people.

I was pretty terrified of the kit exchange. I was paired up with Alison, who I hadn't met before. From the very beginning, I could feel the adrenaline start to kick in. On our first attempt, we lost our rhythm fairly early on, and she went to the surface. On the second attempt, I lost it when we tried to swap our BCDs.

I messed up the third go as well, although we got as far as exchanging fins and BCDs before trying for our masks. By this time, my breathing had got fairly heavy, as we had been buddy breathing for quite some time. I needed more air than I could get while we shared the regulator, and I panicked and bolted up.

Time was ticking away, but we were determined to keep trying, and on our fourth attempt, we got it! Brilliant.

Mask removal was completed on another Friday, and I scored a 5. Well deserved, even though I say it myself! (And even though it did take a good few practice runs)

So, what's left?

I still have three assessments to do – two open water, and one confined. I have to complete a skills circuit, and my Divemaster Conducted Program (lead a group of certified divers). After that, all that stands between me and my Divemaster is a health assessment.

It's been a long and challenging course, and I'll be so happy when I finally get to wear the prized green t-shirt!

Narked at Nemo?

April 16th, 2009

  Ashley had made arrangements for a small group of us to visit Nemo33, near Brussels in Belgium, some time before it started to snow like crazy … not that a bit of bad weather ever stops us! We set off at 4am – yes, 4am – on Saturday with Martin behind the wheel of the minibus in thick snow (rather him than me).

Breakfast was at the entrance to the Eurotunnel before we drove on to the train, which was a novel experience for me! I slept most of the way, and before I knew it we were almost in Brussels …

The pool at Nemo Nemo33 doesn't look that big from the outside, and it's difficult to imagine that it houses an indoor swimming pool over 30m deep – or rather, a diving pool, since that's really all it's used for. We crowded inside to wait in the small bar for our turn, exclaiming over the price of drinks with the sorrowful exchange rate. Through the window we could see an endless stream of bubbles – Ashley explained these were coming up from the 33m deep pit below. We craned our heads against the glass but couldn't see all the way down.

The bell rang and the six divers in the group headed excitedly into the changing rooms, feeling strangely bereft of kit with only our swimming gear and masks. Nemo provides the rest of the kit, and the water is so warm (well over 30 degrees) that wetsuits are not necessary – I was warm even with just my rash vest over my swimsuit!

Chris freedives We were briefed on the edge of the pool. The first ten minutes or so is for free diving only – there is a small area with a step of 5m and 10m depth. I managed to swim down to the 5m platform but it seemed a long way back up, I wasn't brave enough to go for the 10m one! I'll definitely stick with SCUBA for now …

After the previous group had cleared themselves out, we were free to get our kit together and hit the pit! Ashley and Martin were off before we knew it, heading for 33m with Chelsea flag and camera. Chris, Mark, Tim and I descended through the bubbles, the light waning as we got closer to the bottom. We only had a few minutes there before we had to start ascending again though, as Nemo doesn't allow decompression diving. The volume of bubbles as we ascended was incredible – so many divers in such a small space – it took no time at all to feel like we were in the middle of a bottle of coke being shaken and released!

In the underwater cavesWe explored the underwater caves and air pockets, it was weird to come to the surface with my computer still reading 8m deep! Our voices were slightly high, but not quite the helium-like hilarity I'd been hoping for.

For the remainder of the dive, we swam around, practiced some skills, and enjoyed being able to relax and actually dive and swim around in a controlled environment – it beats the 2m of water at Crowthorne hands down!

The second dive was much the same. We were first into the pit again, and at the very bottom I started to experience what was probably mild narcosis. I larked about laying on the bottom and posing for photographs (well that's normal behaviour, anyway). After a few minutes, Ashley started to pull me up – we were almost at the limit of our no deco time. My computer was still showing a minute or two, it's amazing how little time you have at that kind of depth.

It wasn't until we surfaced that I found out they'd been signalling that I was narked – I still remembered the dive, and hadn't done anything really daft, (no more than usual) but I did feel unusually happy, so perhaps they were right. I've never knowingly experienced narcosis before, even on dives below 35m at Stoney Cove and in the Red Sea, or even "descending" to 42m on a dry dive.

Diving at Nemo is fun – it's so relaxed, and as long as you stay within their guidelines and watch your time in the depths of the pit, it's a great opportunity to just enjoy being underwater without having to worry about visibility, getting cold, getting lost, or anything else … except trying not to bump into the numerous other divers, and making sure you look good for the people taking photos through the windows into the bar!

Chelsea supports at Nemo

Forever blowing bubbles …

April 13th, 2009

I experienced my second freeflow at Vobster while assisting on an Advanced course recently. I still find it difficult to deal calmly with these situations underwater – the step I always miss is to take a moment to assess the situation and think about the best thing to do, instead of just doing what comes into my head first

Here's what happened …

Entry point for our dive It was our last dive of the course, a multi-level dive that we would do following a 2 hour surface interval since the deep dive that morning. We'd start just below 20m, moving up to 15m and following the wall around until we reached our ascent point, close to the slipway that we'd use to exit.

Each of the three assistants were assigned to a buddy team. The buddies I was working with were close to completing a textbook descent – slow enough to be comfortable, but fast enough not to keep the divers below them waiting, facing each other across the rope they used for reference. All three of us were within close touching distance as we reached the bottom of the rope, and my regulators began to gurgle.

ItMe, shortly before my last freeflow at Vobster took me a few seconds to realise that they were freeflowing, as I was concentrating on the two students. After my last freeflow, my first thought was to grab somebody else's alternate and wait for one of the instructors to turn off my tank to see if this sorted out my own regulator, so I turned to Emily and used the Out of Air signal, thinking that she would understand from her open water course that I needed to share her air, rather than me trying to point out my freeflow. I was starting to panic as I grabbed at her alternate, forgetting to move it over her arm, which meant that there wasn't an awful lot of hose.

Somewhere along the way, Emily's own regulator came out of her mouth, and her buddy helped her put it back, while she stayed remarkably calm. I, on the other hand, was desperately clinging to her and the rope, trying to slow my own breathing down as Ian turned off my tank. He waved his own regulator in front of me (Ian dives with a twinset, meaning his primary regulator has a 2m long hose so is much better to donate to a diver needing air) and I swapped over again,  remembering to line up the new regulator before taking the old one out, and blow bubbles – all that open water training hasn't gone entirely to waste!

 The S600 second stage that freeflowed My freeflow slowed and stopped, and as Ian turned the tank back on, I took my own second stage back and tried to breathe from it again. Sadly, it only took a breath or two for the freeflow to start up again. This time, I was closer to Kevin, Emily's buddy, and took his alternate instead, and Stuart showed up to turn off my air, again donating his own regulator on its long hose.

He gave me the signal to ascend, and we started to rise, leaving Ian and his two remaining helpers to complete the dive. We hadn't gone more than a few metres when I saw Stuart's first stage start to freeflow! I looked at my computer, we were still 18m or so from the surface, and I had no idea how long the air would last. Divers above us were trying to descend as we continued up the rope, Stuart below me trying to turn his freeflowing tank on and off again, but to no avail. My computer was bleeping at me, but it is set conservatively to ascend at 10m per second, and we had barely reached the bottom before going back up, so I was less concerned about that.

We surfaced, and I inflated my BCD manually as my tank was still turned off. We got out and discussed what had happened, what went wrong, what I should have done instead. Some time later, Ian and the others surfaced, and I became the subject of many post-dive jokes about sucking on long hoses …

Why did it happen?

I bought my regs new last October, and I've done 40+ dives since then in both warm and cold water. The freeflow happened in 6 degree water, which is pretty damn cold, but I have dived in 4 degrees and 6 degrees in December and March at Wraysbury, so they have performed fine before.

The setting that probably caused the freeflow.The first stage is a ScubaPro MK25, set to output 9 bar, which is about the right setting for the cold water I was diving in. The freeflow came from the second stage, an S600, which has a setting to control the air flow. This was turned right up, so the air would be flowing as fast as it would allow. This is the main thing that Collin and Terry attributed the freeflow to when they checked the regs the day after.

Some other causes could have been that I have left the regs in the airing cupboard to dry in the past, that they were outside in my dive kit overnight in the cold, or perhaps while I was assembling or disassembling my kit, some nasty piece of dirt crawled in and caused it to stick. The learning here is that these are sensitive regs that need looking after – not just cleaning at the end of the weekend, but more care over where they get stored and left at the side of a muddy dive site.

What should I have done differently?

Aside from the obvious answers (stay calmer, don't knock other people's regs out), here's what I think I should have done this time.

First, assess the situation.

  1. I'd just descended, so I had plenty of air – it wasn't going to run out that quickly.
  2. I have a pressure gauge would tell me how much air I have and how fast it's going down.
  3. Breathing from a freeflowing regulator is possible.
  4. I was very close to two students, both of whom had alternate air sources.
  5. There were two instructors, both diving with twinsets.
  6. My octopus was not freeflowing.

Second, identify my options.

  1. Make it clear to the instructors what's happened, then ascend normally, breathing from the freeflowing regulator.
  2. Switch to my own alternate.
  3. Calmly take one of the student's alternates.
  4. Try and stop the free flow – turn the second stage to face downward.
  5. If I can't fix it, find one of the instructors, switch to their alternate, and signal to them to try and fix the freeflow by turning the tank off and back on.
  6. If it can't be fixed, ascend normally, breathing from the instructor's alternate.

Or, option 4: carry a backup option of my own, and switch to this in the event of an emergency. I've already decided to buy my own pony tank from Divecrew for any dives I'm doing over 18m in future.

A few last notes …

The PADI courses teach you the skills early on to handle an emergency: how to share air, how to do a CESA, how to breathe from a freeflow. In the Rescue course, you learn how to deal with a panicking diver and how to rescue somebody in trouble. In EFR, you learn to assess a situation before going to help somebody who's hurt.

When you start training to be a Divemaster, you're expected to have better judgement – to be able to assess a situation and decide the best way to handle it – whether it's you in trouble, or somebody else. Learning judgement skills is hard though, and I think it's only through experiencing it, seeing or hearing about somebody else's experience, that you can do that.

Whether this is best achieved by having a more structured Divemaster course to share learnings, or by trainees being proactive about talking to other people about their experiences, and doing more to anticipate and plan for emergency situations, is still an open question in my mind.

One last thing I plan to do sometime in the future is to calculate how long my air would last in a freeflow situation. The internet hasn't offered me any answers, so I'm going to have to do an experiment of my own sometime …

Oh, hello Enthusiasm. I hoped you were still there somewhere. Welcome back.

April 6th, 2009

It's been a long time since I came back from a weekend of diving feeling like I can't wait to get back in the water. I drove home on Sunday feeling just a bit sad that it was all over (while singing loudly along to my iPod), spent a Monday surfing dive websites in between emails and meetings, and drove my colleagues mad all day going on about my fantastic weekend … jumping into a cold lake.

Collin warned us all, way back when I had more trouble with my equipment than the students I was supposed to be helping – but enough excitement for all of them – when my knees knocked at the mere thought of doing a site briefing, that one day we'd hit The Wall. It wasn't how I expected it to be. I thought I'd know what was happening, deal with it, brush it off. But I didn't even really recognise it.

It was the cold, murky dive at Chepstow in November that first got to me. After that, a weekend of diving began to mean getting up at an ungodly dark hour instead of having a nice lie-in, dragging a heavy kit around and getting cold instead of shopping. I forgot how much fun it was seeing a bunch of new Open Water divers emerge from the anxious students who'd started out and dreaded the weekends I was diving.

For a while, I blamed work – I was tired from travelling a lot – and the winter, being cold and dark. But I was travelling and working hard last summer, and I can't blame the cold when I'm diving in the pool. At one point, I wondered if it had just been another short term craze, if I'd ever get back into it and enjoy it the same way I used to.

It's not to say that I didn't enjoy it at all, because I did, once I got there. But I couldn't be bothered any more with showing up early for a course if I didn't have to; I didn't want to give up a night out partying to get a decent night's sleep; I wasn't really interested in helping to unload the van if I had somewhere better to be. Just an assessment will do, thank you. I was determined to keep going and trying to finish the Divemaster course by May, the target I had originally set myself. I should have taken a break, chilled out, had some fun with it. Then again, that just isn't me – I'm way too stubborn :)

I learned the hard way that if I'm not enjoying it as much, it shows. Luckily, nobody has stopped talking to me yet, but then again, there's still time …

I don't really know what happened over the weekend to re-ignite the my passion for diving, but it's back at last. I'm happy.

Maybe it was the glorious sunny weather, the sense of community from spending a weekend away on a course, the spirited post-dinner debates, or maybe just getting stuff off of my chest over a beer. Or maybe I finally just hit the bottom and bounced back up again. The funny thing is, it wasn't one of the best courses I've done – it was cold, chaotic, my regs freeflowed, and I got thrown in the water for making a rude comment. Wait – actually, that bit was fun.

I've debated whether publishing something this personal on a blog that isn't anonymous is a good idea, but I figured after all this time I've probably lost my loyal readership of three, so there's not too much potential for future embarrassment.

Anyway, it's my blog, and I'll cry if I want to. So there. Thanks for listening :)

Sun, snow, skis and stodge!

January 17th, 2009

 In the village of Gosau

 With the cold snap before Christmas came reports of a good snowy start to the ski season in Europe, so I decided to trade icy water for powdery slopes and spent a week skiing in Gosau, Austria. I was lucky to find a friend who had an apartment available to stay in and what looked like cheap flights with Ryanair, who then tripled the price with their fees for check-in, paying and luggage. Ouch. But still, it was fairly cheap, and I convinced Ashley to come along and join the fun.

Gosau is a tiny village in Upper Austria, fairly close to the German border. Almost all of the other skiers were German or Austrian, and it was hard to make ourselves understood since we don't speak German – I can just about manage "zwei Gluhvein bitte" (which usually gets me through a day of skiing!)

The view from our room. The journey out was surprisingly smooth despite a 3am start to drive the two hours to Stansted (how they can refer to that as London is still beyond me). We landed at Salzburg and caught two buses and a train to get to the Sporthotel. We discovered our room, left our cases and went to explore the area, hire skis and buy lift passes. Food first though – I ate a tasty Austrian stodgy dumpling and sauerkraut at the small eaterie at the base of the slopes, while Ashley feasted on Austrian sausage and fries. As the sun descended behind the mountains the air took a cold turn, and we headed to get the ski bus back to our hotel.

Skiing Next morning was an early start to get the first bus, but it was worth it! The slopes were almost empty for the first few runs. Gosau is part of the Dachstein West ski area which also includes Russbach and Annaberg, and although there are a lot of runs they stretch for a fairly long distance across the mountains. After a couple of warm up runs, we skied down to Russbach, then started to explore across the mountain to Zweiselalm and Annaberg. Along the way we tried the area's three black runs, which were fairly steep but very short.

Almost all of the ski runs are red, and most are very wide and combed perfectly with steep drops combined with gentler breaks. There are a few mogul runs that we tried a few times (including late on the first afternoon when our legs complained bitterly!) but they were generally fairly low. There were few beginners in the resort, and also few really excellent skiers which made for reasonably good conditions even when the slopes got busy. There are a lot of ski schools though and many small skiers to avoid!

Making snow.The snow conditions were fabulous. The low temperature combined with excellent snow making facilities meant the pistes were mostly packed powder with only small patches of ice here and there. Ashley turned out to be as good a ski buddy as he is a dive buddy; he has an amazing sense of balance (he fell over once all week, while I fell about eight times in all) and likes to go pretty fast. I managed to keep ahead of him mostly, although in the early morning runs he would often zoom off leaving me to eat his snow. His best time was skiing from the top of the gondola down to Russbach in four minutes (an average speed of about 40mph); I was not amused that he hadn't waited for me at all!

Lunch at the Rottenhutte

 

For lunch on the first day, we ate lasagne at the Rottenhutte, while next to us, a group of Austrian men ordered Kaiserschmarrn with Apfelstrudel. My mouth watered as the waitress set down a large plate of thick cut up pancakes, covered in icing sugar with an apple sauce that they dipped the pieces in.

"Tomorrow," I told Ashley, "that's what I'm having for my lunch!"

02012009134For the second day, it snowed on and off although it never really came down so heavily that we had to abandon the mountain. The clouds closed in though and it was too foggy to ski towards Zweiselalm, so we remained on the main ski runs to Gosau and Russbach, and only ventured a short way from the top of the Gosau chairlifts. Luckily these are great runs but in the afternoon they became incredibly busy.

 

The third day was foggy and the snow spun around us in mini flurries in the afternoon, but we were tired of doing the same runs so we skied through the clouds anyway. It wasn't really much different from diving at Wraysbury, we just moved a little bit faster :) In fact although it was quite weird at times skiing into a white cloud and hoping that there would be a good place to turn just in front, I was so used to diving in murky conditions that I wasn't all that uncomfortable. All the diving has also taught us to stick closer together when we can't see each other, which is what we did. I concluded that diving and skiing aren't really that much dissimilar after all …

Beautiful snow and sun! Our last two days brought beautiful sunny weather, and we rejoiced until we realised that it was even colder! When our fingers and feet got too cold to stay out, we skied to our favourite stop at the Rottenhutte and enjoyed more tasty pancakes as well as Germknodel – a stodgy sweet dumpling with custard (in Ashley's case) and butter and sugary poppy seeds (for me). It was funny how the ski runs seemed so different without clouds obscuring so much of our view …

All in all it was a great start to 2009! Not to mention a good warm up for my upcoming trip to Whistler in February, when I'm hoping my legs will stand up better to the soft snow thanks to the trip to Gosau!

Kaiserschmarrn, yum!