|
During our Master Diving training course, we were instructed to
do a shore-entry navigation dive in our buddy pairs. This meant
kitting up on the beach, gently easing into the waves, setting the
appropriate navigation course, putting fins on, submerging beneath
the waves and setting off in the right direction. The intention
was to swim out 30m, surface, wave to the instructor, take another
bearing back, submerge and return. Being near-professionals, currents
and swell needed to be taken into consideration. We had calculated
how long it took us to swim 30m, so the time had been set.
It had been raining heavily and the locals rivers were in flood.
We hadn't seen Umkomaas this rough before. The waves were large
and angry. The viz was 30 cm. As newlyweds, we were quite keen on
the advice that buddy-pairs maintain physical contact during the
dive and decided that one partner would hold the other's arm. We
established a few basic signals and set off.
Putting our fins on proved to be a lot more difficult than we anticipated,
but after much sloshing about in the waves we were ready to set
off. Our timing was crucial in order to maintain contact. As planned
we went straight to the bottom and tried to stay there. Alarm set
in when we couldn't see our dive gauges let alone our hands in front
of our faces. Extreme physical close-up was needed in order to see
the other's face. Seeing my wide-eyed expression, Mos very calmly
signalled that we needed to go deeper. The waves were too rough
for us just to hold onto each other's arm so we clasped each other's
hand.
We inched forward. Time slowed down. I was very aware of my breathing,
which had rapidly increased. I tried to calm myself down, "Phew,
ok Vic, you can do this ... we've been through more difficult things
than this ... come on". The sand, salt, grit and water swirled
in front of me. All the training about keeping a constant level
had flown out of the window, as we were being mercilessly tossed
with each wave overhead.
I was surprised that each wave brought not only a new surge of
panic but an enormous crashing sound and darkness. I was terrified.
I tried to signal to Mos that it was timeout and I wanted to abort
the dive, yet somehow a little voice inside me was urging me to
continue. So we carried on. As we got deeper, the waves above us
turned into swells. The dive became more bearable, but not any clearer.
At our agreed time, we surfaced and waved to our instructor. We
were surprised to see the rests of our classmates on the beach,
and thought it had been a practical joke.
We calculated the strong side-current, took a deep breath and our
bearing, submerged and set off. The journey back to the waves took
much quicker but then it slowed right down. It took us forever to
reach the shore. As soon as we felt that we were in good standing
water, we surfaced and were horrified to see that we'd been swept
a mile down the beach. Our instructor had estimated our whereabouts
and was there to help drag us out of the water. Exhausted by the
dive, we still needed to walk back fully kitted. We were finished.
Our classmates had abandoned their dives after losing contact with
their buddy. Inexperience and miscalculations are no match for Mother
Nature. The next day the sea was completely calm and viz was 3m.
© Written for Tours
and Tales by Marcel and Victoria Koning (Marvic). We promote responsible
tourism and love nature and wildlife, discovering new places and different cultures.
|
