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I watched over everyone as they began to hook their equipment to their tanks. After I was satisfied that they knew what they were doing I turned back toward my own kit. I attached my regulators to my tank. I could do it in my sleep, so I kept an eye on Eric while I did. Frowning, I watched as he fumbled to put everything together.
“Here,” I offered, “let me help.” It was possible he was out of practice and that’s what this dive was for. You got certified when you first started and after that it was up to you to maintain your abilities. If it’d been a long time since he dove it could account for being rusty.
Maybe that was why he was off?
I helped him put his BCD and tank on his back and made sure everything was snug. “Take a few puffs on both your reg and the octo,” I told him.
He’d be using his primary regulator, but everyone always had an octopus, which was a second regulator that was for your dive buddy. If something happened to your regulator, or you ran out of air, we were taught to go to the nearest person—dive buddy or not—and take their octopus. You’d then let them know that you need to surface. Whether you give the ‘out of air’ signal or not, you’re taught to take their second regulator.
Sometimes people tended to panic under the ocean, though, and they’d rip your reg out of your mouth because they’d just had to swim to you while holding their breath. In that case, your octo would become your primary regulator and you’d head to the surface.
I watched as he sucked in the air and nodded at me that everything was good.
“Great,” I said, patting him on the back. I checked my own gear then listened in as Donna explained to everyone how we’d be getting out of the boat.
“We’re going to be doing the giant stride off the back platform here,” she called out, pointing down to the extension attached to the back of the boat.
I was grateful for this boat. A lot of dive companies don’t have one with a platform, which meant you’d back roll off the boat into the sea. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, it was actually a lot of fun. But for beginners and people who hadn’t dove in a while that could be a scary way to start the dive. It was also a good way for people to lose their masks as they hit the water, ending a dive before it got started.
“I’ll go first and show you how it’s done,” Donna said, adjusting her mask over her face.
Everyone here had probably done this a million times, but we always went with the assumption that this was new for people. I watched as she stuck one leg straight out, bent the other while pushing—and falling—away from the platform. She landed in the ocean and dunked down before bobbing back up like a cork. She gave me the ‘okay’ signal and swam away so I could direct the next person.
Soon it was just me and Eric left. Greg would stay with the boat and pick us up as we surfaced. Eric stared down at the water, then looked over at me. There was a flicker of panic in his eyes.
“Hey, it’s alright.” I held my hand out and motioned for him to inhale. “Nice big breath. Good. Relax. Then just step off the platform.”
His eyes hardened and he looked away from me. He ended up doing a little jump off, not something we ever encourage, but it was too late.
I stepped off after him. My heart fluttered with excitement as the ocean closed over my head. The whoosh of the water around me felt and sounded like home. Next thing I knew, I was on the surface.
Donna was once again giving instructions. From here, we would deflate our BCDs—they were vests that you wore to control your buoyancy underwater and to keep you on the surface with no effort—and start the dive.
I let the air out of my BCD, keeping an eye on Eric as he did the same. About five feet down, my ears popped, releasing the pressure in them. The fog had departed and the sun shone down on us. In some oceans you could see hundreds of feet in the beautiful crystal waters. Here on the coast of California the Pacific could be cold, dark, and murky. There were times you could only see five feet in front of you, making it that much more important that you stick with the group and your dive buddy.
We were lucky today and had about twenty feet of visibility. I watched as Donna waved, indicating that everyone should follow along after her. Angling next to Eric, I swept my gaze over each of our guests. Everyone was doing fine, though the man next to me was the epitome of tense.
He’ll settle and be fine once we get going.
I couldn’t have been more wrong. Eric was stiff, tense, and fighting the swell that was swinging us to and fro. We’d made it over to the other side of the rock, where it joined up with another and a lot of sea life liked to hang out. Being near the rocks usually meant the swells were larger as they displaced the water, but as long as you relaxed and let it take you where it wanted you were fine. It wouldn’t crash you into the rocks. But if you fought it, you not only wore yourself out, and used up more air, you ran the risk of causing yourself to hit objects.
Catching his arm, I forced him to look over at me. I gave him an indication to calm down. His eyes were wild, pupils blown wide as he stared at me.
What the hell? If I didn’t know any better I’d say he’d never been diving before. That wasn’t possible, though. Our dive shop owner always checked people’s dive certs before allowing them to come out with us.
I looked up and realized there were no bubbles rising up from Eric. Was he holding his breath?
No, that wasn’t it. He ripped the regulator from his mouth, panic on his face. He was floundering around, unsure of what to do as his cheeks bulged out from holding his breath.
I calmly detached my octo and gave it to him. He stuffed it into his mouth and his brow drew together and up in worry.
Frowning, I reached over and pressed the front of the regulator to depress air through it, forcing the water out so he could get air.
Relief instantly settled on his face as he started breathing. What had happened to his gear? It didn’t matter. We’d have to surface. Donna would eventually realize we weren’t there and bring the group up to find us.
Grabbing the front of his BCD, I swam us upward. He was still spooked, and let me take over. We hadn’t been down long enough, or deep enough, to worry about a safety stop, so I brought us straight up to the surface of the water.
I inflated my BCD and watched as he struggled, kicking to stay afloat. “Inflate your BCD.” When he didn’t listen, I reached over and did it myself. Again I wondered what was going on. He hadn’t known how to put together his kit, clear the regulator, or inflate his BCD? It didn’t matter if you were rusty, you didn’t forget those skills.
