Yesterday I had my first dive in 8 years and my first dive with Andy. Emotionally I’m conflicted.
Diving took up most of my life for several years. Every weekend and every holiday was spent diving and I had some amazing experiences. Like most things I do I threw myself into it 100% .. and maybe took it a step too far. I saw gigantic stallictights in the prehistoric great blue hole in Belize; I dived through cargo holds of the SS Thislegorm which sits at the bottom of the Red Sea since it was torpedoed in WW2; I watched giant cuttlefish orgys through a narcosis haze; I dived in caves and wrecks, with sharks and dolphins, in 50m visibility and in 5cm visibility. I mixed gases, took ponys, shot buoys, spent too long hanging off a dive line and often resorted to plan B, C or D when things didn’t go to plan… and have the scars to prove it. Andy will now be rolling his eyes saying ‘yeah yeah you’re awesome we know’, but I say this because all of these experiences were awesome and all were scary. I am scared of the ocean and I think if you aren’t then maybe you don’t quite understand. “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear.”
Yesterday’s dive brought back memories. I miss the adventure, the fun, the comradery of the group of mates I dived with, but I don’t miss the exhaustion, the long days, the worry when your buddy is less experienced, and the sleepless nights analysing how you’re still here after something went wrong.
I’m not sure if I’ll keep diving, but I could get used to these 30/30 dives 🙂
9/2/19
Scuba Susie, Fish rock cave, 2006
justcoslife 