Ten Thousand Millimetres beneath the Sea

Scuba Diving is to Snorkelling what “War and Peace” is to “Dick and Jane”. Now, for those of you who have never breathed from a tank before, that may seem to be a bit of an overstatement, but I assure you, it isn’t.

Several years ago, my high school advertised a coming trip to Egypt. The problem was, it was more a diving trip to the Red Sea than a saunter through the many and varied archaeological sites in the ancient kingdom. But no matter, it was a small matter for me and a friend to get our SCUBA licences.

Well, not actually. Surprisingly, it’s not merely a manner of putting on goggles, flippers and then getting into the water.

No, first you must shall out $1 000 000 dollars for all the equipment. Or something along those lines. It’s actually amazing how many things you need in order to go underwater. A wetsuit to keep you warm, boots for the same, weights (because the previous two items, combined with your body’s natural buoyancy, make you float, which kind of defeats the purpose of the exercise) and then, to clinch it, a belt for those weights.

Once you’ve got all this, you have to go through a series of lectures which are only marginally better than a math’s test. Only after all this, do you actually get into a pool, which probably registers at about -20°C. Then you learn to navigate the equipment, how to sink, how to rise, how to breathe and all that jazz. Basically, how not to drown. And that’s not to mention the thousand hand signals you need to know. I’ve only remembered the unofficial one, which means waving your arms like a bird in distress, which means “Help! I’m drowning anyway!”.

But after all this, the sea is your oyster. At least during the day, and up to a depth of thirty metres.

And let me tell you, it’s amazing. It would take a much larger vocabulary than mine to describe what it’s like down there. I’ve been on, what I realise now, far too little dives. I’ve been too shipwrecks and seabeds covered in shells. I’m convinced that I’ve seen a shark, which is rather disconcerting when you’re sharing the same body of water. I’ve even almost managed to kill my friend, but to be perfectly honest, he tried the same.

Now I haven’t dived (doven?) for over two years. I’d probably drown if you tossed me into a paddling pool with what remains of my equipment. I haven’t seen a coral reef close up without the aid of a television. The closest I’ve come to a fish is in the vicinity of chips.

And you know what? It’s a massive pity.

Bontage

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Tags: Expenses, Scuba Diving, Sea

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