First Real Day Underwater

I don't know when the desire to breath underwater began. Maybe it was all those marine shows I watched on PBS when I was a kid or maybe it was the day I really saw the ocean, but deep inside a seed was unwittingly planted and the desire has been growing ever since. Last month I finally decided that it was time. Time to shell out the money. Time to feel the weightless feeling of staying underwater without my ears screaming out in pain or my lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. It was time to open my eyes under water without the sting forcing my lids to close. It was time.

Just to be fair this isn't really my first time underwater. We had to pass off all our underwater abilities in the pool before we could go to the open water. So it was my first expierience breathing underwater without the safe confines of a pool.

I arrived at Clear Springs Scuba park ready for the day. I was by myself with my scuba grear next to me in the seat and in the miniscule trunk. I arrived at the dive sight. Hauled all my gear to the tarp. After sociallizing for a few moments it was time. In diving, you NEVER dive without a partner, unless you don't again want to see the light of day. John was my partner. An overweight man in his early forties. He drove a big pickup and had a purple tank. One thing you can say about scuba gear it is sooooo heavy. Of course John picked it up and lug the BCD and tank on his back like it weighed nothing. In class you learn how to pick up your gear with the help of you partner, and it is a good thing. I have always been too stubbornly self sufficient for my own good. So even with the help of John there, I still tried to bolster the bulk of the weight myself. As a picked up the tank to hoist it onto my back, I felt pain rip across the scar where they cut into me to get Logan out. My breath caught in my throat, but I had to laugh to concentrate an what I was doing instead of the damaged parts of me. I straped into the BCD and teetered under it's massive weight. We walked down the rocky slope to the dock, and waited to enter the water. The wetsuits kept the heat in our already sweltering bodies, and the weight of the air tank made all the muscles in my body ache.

I went to the edge of the dock with the anticipation of the cool water beneath. With a giant step, I entered the green glassy surface. In the instant I entered the water, all my discomfort dissapeared. The cool water quenched the fire on my skin beneath my wet suit. The weight that just seconds before had been tearing at my body, wanting me stumble and crash to the earth is nothing. I am safe and weightless in the water. I laid back and just enjoyed the comfortable feeling. We snorked out to a small pink bouy, that marked a sunken airplane and prepared to decend into the murky water beneath. John and I were ready. We gave the hand signal for going down, and we decended down the bouy line.

Nothing can compare to that first breath underwater. When you can stop stuggling to stay afloat and you don't have to fight for every breath. It becomes secound nature, like breathing at the surface. You don't even think about it. It fades from your mind as you are confronted with an entirely different world. Everywhere I looked I could only see the color of vibrant yellow green. Small particles drifted in and out of my view. The visibility was so poor, I couldn't see the plane until I was almost upon it. I had to keep my buddy at arms length so he wouldn't dissapear into the haze. Even with him in my peripherals and the knowlege there where other divers within thirty feet of us, it was so easy to feel alone. The only sound was the inhaling and exahling into the respirator. The water was so gentle, with small currents tugging and pulling my body in different directions. A pale outline of the plane arose against the deeper background below. We arrived, landing gently on the plane, where our instructor was waiting for us. The plane used to be white, but was now covered in a slimy film of light green. Bubbles of air found miniscule cracks in the plane's surface and streamed out, impacient to find the surface. We stood on the plane, waiting for the rest of our comrads. As I waited I turned my attention to the haze. I thought nothing could be visible through the fog, but as I looked I began to deciper images within my vision. About ten feet away, I could barely make out ths outline of a diver slowly moving, paciently waiting for the other divers. I looked down at about my waist and was surprised to see a wide, very flat fish. Although I studied him with interest, he looked at me utterly bored. I reached out to touch him with my finger and he skirted away without a second glance. I remained where I was and waited until more fish swam slowly past me. I picked one and slowy followed it, with my belly closed against the plane's surface. He kept swimming slowly, so i followed him. Slowly I reached out my hand and to my utter astonishment I touched him. His scales were soft and slippery. I was so taken back that he had allowed me to touch him that I jerked my hand back and cried out. For the next few minutes, I chased fish along the surface of the plane.

With my buddy, we began to swim along the outside of the plane. Along the bottom were sharp jagged rocks that pulled at my fins. I unwittingly swam into the thermocline and was greeted by a icy layer that was not unpleasent in lew of the warmth of the day. We continued to the cockpit of the plane. I reached out to one of the windows and found surounding my hand were tiny fish. they were about an inch long and there were hundreds in the area. I had to smile at the great show of life within such a small space. We circled the plane, studying it's features. We came up again to the top of the plane. I saw one of my friendly fishies. I stared at it and it stared back at me. I reached out my finger to touch it, slowly, so not to scare him into the abyss. He continued to stare at me as I reached toward him. Without so much as looking at my finger he charged at it with his mouth wide open, ready to sink his tiny teeth into the pad of my finger. I flinched backed just in time for him to miss my finger. I rubbed it as though he had bitten it, instead of it being a narrow miss. I had to smile at my own stupitidty. Never offer your finger to an animal if you want to keep it.

Regretfully it was time to surface. We ascended along the candycane striped line to the scorching sun above. I swam backwards to the dock. I took off my fins and stepped onto the ladder. With the first step the weight of my tank pulled at me, not wanting to let me leave the water. I hoisted myself onto the dock, and my muscles again screamed under the massive weight. I climbed the slope to the site, and set my gear on the ground. I was again in the sweltering sun, fighting to keep hydrated. All the while I looked longingly at the cool glassy surface off the water.