August 24, 2013
My first official open water dive. Here's how it happened:
I decided on a whim to visit one of the 4 knuckleheads. Kristen decided to move away to Indiana a few years ago and life has not been the same. A few nights before leaving, I went to dive night. Mike handed me a Dive Training magazine, which I took in my carryon. I have never read a magazine cover to cover in my life. This one, I did.
This issue was written just for me, it seemed. There was an article about drift diving, which I will be doing in Cozumel. When I got to the end, there was a highlight on a dive site in, where else? Indiana. It's about 2 1/2 hours from Kristen's house, but she's a sport and went on the adventure with me.
Only now, it felt a little less like adventure and more like butterflies. I don't have a buddy, none of my scuba crew will be with me, and I have no idea how to dive in anything but a pool. For reassurance, I text Instructor Mike to see if there is anything special I need to know for diving a quarry. No, he says, just remember your training... And make us look good. Ha! What a joker. Now I am going into the unknown. Relax, I can do this.
Preparation for the dive seemed easy in comparison. I just called, asked for some info, said that I was from out of town and wanted to come diving. One problem, still. I'm a solo diver, which is a no-no. Larry, one of the owners (?) said that you can usually find a buddy and if it wasn't busy, he would go with me. So, rental gear, my own gear, and buddy down, let's go!
I am not usually one for road trips, but this drive was amazing. Kristen put on show tunes, we blasted through tiny towns in Indiana, some without even a single stoplight. Miles and miles of cornrows and soybean fields. Pit stop at a Taco Bell for a mutant taco made from Dorrito Fire taco and volcano taco. None for me, though. Could you imagine being underwater and having Taco Bell revenge? 2 1/2 hours later, we arrive at France Park, just as the cell phone signal dies. Black hole of technology.
France Park has zip lines, a campsite, and the diving quarry. The attendant gave us directions by way of follow the road to the right and it's at the end. 3 wrong right turns later and trip through some neat campsites and we stop a couple to ask if they've seen any scuba divers. We finally find the beach and it's stunning. Tall cliffs over calm, green waters. We make our way to the shack with the dive flag on it.
Time to gear up. Pilot BCD, check. It's weight integrated, but the pieces are missing. I have to put the weights in the pocket, since my weight belt is back home, in Oklahoma (whoops). My usual 4 pounds of weight in the pockets, check. Tank, check. 3000 psi in the tank, check. More than I have had before. Does that make a difference? Trying to remember the manual. Air would be heavier since there is more compressed in the tank. What's this yellow thing? Octopus. Ok. That's new. Gauges, check. Weights, check. Time to hook in and become streamlined. What do I do with the octopus? I'm going to have to ask. Apparently, there is a yellow stretchy thing on my jacket that goes around the octo. Side note. I'm working on the vocabulary for this sport. Gages hook in with a retractable clip, neat. Ready for entry. (hee hee)
My dive buddy, Garrett, is from the Wabash Scuba Club. He said that the quarry is his favorite dive site. The quarry is 30 feet deep max. This makes me feel a little better, since I know I can CESA in an emergency and reach the surface. Garrett is in the water before I start my buddy check. I look like a newbie on the beach checking myself out. Oh well. Following the rules is cool. Bikini Wax Removes All Fluff. I'm all checked out. Now to ask Garrett about his releases and alternate air. Easy enough. Buddy check complete
The plan is to swim out to a buoy that is over an underwater platform, then follow the lines to the sunken school bus. After that, something about fish breeding grounds. I missed that part in the excitement of swimming out. Time to start letting the air out of my jacket and descend. 1..2..3 inches and then, I'm neutrally buoyant. I release all the air out of my lungs. Nothing. Uh oh. I missed something. A weight check at the beach. Damn. I will eventually figure out that I am wearing an aluminium tank instead of steel. I should have asked what kind of tank I was renting. I have to swim about 150 yards back to the beach, climb out of the water, up the beach for more weight. I estimate another 8 pounds should do it, since I did not account for the 5 needed for an empty air tank the first time around.
Back at the buoy and a few apologies later, we are ready to descend. I set my compass for the sunken bus. This time, it was textbook. Descend slowly, equalize, look down, repeat. I floated slowly to the bottom and, in typical scuba student formation, landed on the platform kneeling. I recheck the fit of my gear, made sure everything was where it should be, grab my compass, OK to my dive buddy, and set of in the correct direction. I'm diving! Underwater! Bliss! My heart is pounding and I can feel the adrenaline surge. Awesome!
I notice that there is a yellow line from the platform headed in the direction of the bus. I try not to pay attention to it as I use my compass. I'm doing pretty well until I loose light of the rope. I check with my buddy and he's patiently following. I recheck the heading and have veered off a little. A small readjustment finds me back with the yellow rope. As I'm swimming, I am trying to count my kicks to estimate the distance. Back in the pool, 16 kicks = 75 ft. I'm counting more than 50, so I think I am just kicking too fast. I'll eventually get the hang of it. It feels like every few kicks, I am checking on my buddy. I wonder if that's too often.
A shadow looms in the darkness ahead and to my right. I am checking my depth and compass heading when I notice a fish chilling on the rocky bottom. I exhale to investigate. A catfish about the size of both my hands laid end on end. I feel a tap on my shoulder and my buddy points at the murky shape of the back of the bus a few feet from me. Way to be aware of your surroundings, Jen. The yellow rope has lead us to the sunken school bus. I really want to go inside the bus, but my buddy doesn't, so I don't. Around the side, and to the front, I follow my buddy. He's stirring up the silt on the bus and bottom, but it's not bad. To the front and my buddy points to the driver in the bus. Wait, driver? I can't quite make it out, swim a little closer. WHOA. Skeleton driving the bus. Creepy. Around the side, there is another yellow rope going off to the west. Let's follow that.
I set my compass heading, and try to communicate what I'm doing with my buddy, but he thinks I am trying to tell him how much air I have left. Oh well. Mental note: Must remember to ask what the sign for compass heading is. I'm concentrating on the rope and compass and nearly run head first into a giant truck tire suspended in the water. Neat. This tire is big enough for me to swim through all tucked in and glide through without touching. And I do just that. Prep for cave diving? Not a chance. I saw Sanctum. But, it was fun.
The rest of the dive was a general mozy back towards the entry site. The only noteworthy things were the paddlefish I finally saw at the end of the dive, the cold spot we found that made me wish for my wetsuit and my equipment malfunction. The malfunction being I was looking under a rock upside down when my weights fell out of my jacket pocket. As I casually reach down for it, I realize I am floating alarmingly fast to the surface. A few well timed kicks, an exhale and a grab for the weights brings me back under control. My buddy sees my struggle and comes to help, but I have both the weights in hand and secured in my pocket before he can get close enough. We have to swim off because the rookie stirred up the bottom.
Once we reached the allotted air pressure, we signaled to surface and I headed up. I went slower than my bubbles, but faster than my buddy. Oops. So, I just hang at the surface and watch him surface while I snorkeled. Thus ends my first dive. Like a good student, I log the dive in my book and get a cool stamp with a dive flag and paddelfish and have my buddy autograph.
Quick text to the Grand Puba to acknowledge my good behavior, a little word vomit, and we are back in the car headed home. I could really use a nice, cold Coors. Official celebratory beverage of the divers of Scubabros.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Monday, September 16, 2013
Open Water Certification, Take 2 July 2013
July 27, 28 2013
The Scubabros have their own training lake in MiddleofNowhere, Oklahoma. (Also, I'm a city girl, and anywhere where there is not at least asphalt = Middle of Nowhere) When we get out there, it is beautiful! No city noise, no cars, nothing but the sweet sound of... Nothing! I need to get out of the city more often. Keep this in mind for later.
The first task is to descend into the lake. 25 feet. Seems like a cake walk. Not the case. There is a yellow rail that leads all the way to the platform at the bottom. The Scubabros were taking us down one at a time. I volunteer close to the beginning, as I am a little nervous. The point of the exercise is to descend to the platform and ascend, just to get the feel of the lake. Mike tells me not to go faster than him and to stay close. We start our descent. Immediately, we are not in Kansas any more. I almost feel like I would take an algae tumble weed at this point. I can see Mike's outline and feel his hand on the yellow rail, but other than that, it is just brown and shadow shapes. I stick to Mike like glue. It feels like I am basically holding his hand on the way down. He's signalling to equalize my ears, which I can do without holding my nose, so I pinch my nose anyway and signal OK. At some point, I look down at our hands to make sure all is still going well. When I look up, I realize I have lost Mike. Panic sets in. I can see a dark shape undulating beneath and ahead of me. I start to breathe fast and shallow, opposite of what my training tells me. There is a rushing sound in my head, and an odd pounding. My body is freaking out. I just closed my eyes. One deep breath. Two breaths. Three. Calming down. Four. When I open my eyes, Mike's mask consumes my entire field of view. OK? he signs. I respond with the universal sign of, "One moment please". How do I convey that I am fighting a panic attack underwater? Open hand on chest and exaggerated deep breaths. Works for me. OK? he signs again. One moment, please. Deep breath. OK I signal back, finally. No time to be a coward.
A few more feet and we reach the platform, the dark shape under me. Once we get situated on the bottom, it is time to ascend and the next student to make the journey. We all have a go at the yellow rail descent. And next up is the line descent.
Having been to the bottom already, diving down the rope was a piece of cake. Again, not descending down faster than the instructor. Once at the bottom, I had to demonstrate partial and fully flooded mask, fin pivot, and recovering and clearing my reg. Then, Mike signaled he was out-of-air, I switched to my alternate air source, gave him my 2nd stage, and we ascended.
The third dive was the most fun. Cleared a fully flooded mask, then we got to explore the platform. The bubbling sound was an aerator. It's used to keep the platform clear. We followed the rail to the bubbles and played in them a little. At first, I was just satisfied to look at. When I got bubbles swished in my face and giggled through my reg, Mike put my hand through the bubbles. Laughing with a reg in your mouth is a little tricky. Time for a simulated safety stop. My buoyancy control at this point is dire at best. I tried very hard not to embarrass myself here. Good thing the water was murky. And for the fun part. CESA. Controlled Emergency Swimming Ascent. I signal I am out of air and calmly bolt to the surface saying, "AHHHHHHHHH" to avoid exploding lungs. I was really surprised I could pull this one off. Down 25 feet, one breath at the bottom, and swimming to the surface without inhaling again. I did smack Mike on the head as we ascended. Glad he did not take points off.
Time for some surface skills. Simulated cramp removal, easy. Tired diver tow. My friend Dave was kind enough to let me tow him, All in the name of science, er, certification. More on Dave later. Now, on land, I am an accident waiting to happen. I could not walk a straight line to save my life. Apparently, there is a skill in this certification using a compass. Uh oh. The point is to set your compass and swim a straight line without raising your mask out of the water. Double uh oh. I set my compass, and start swimming. Slow at first, the needle doesn't move much. I think I am in the right place and dare to raise up out of the water. 20 feet out of the way. Oops. I get back on track and try again. I was able to navigate back to shore without any trouble.
Now, I am sure I am forgetting the little things, like establishing buoyancy during each dive. Forgive me. I am blogging about it after the fact. You can really tell what I think the highlights are. On that note, we're off to the final dive.
Descending with no visual reference. No problem. I don't remember hovering without kicking. I must have done it, but I was so bad at it. I have worked on buoyancy control on each dive after. I can now almost hover 30 seconds without moving a muscle. I removed and replaced my mask again. For the last skill, I am to tow Mike in while using a compass. This swim was far less traumatic as the first entry. I got my heading, swam a little way, stopped, checked my heading, then swam some more. Eventually, I got us back to shore and passed the class with a round of applause from my fellow students.
There is now a habit of celebrating a successful dive with a cold beer. Delighful. I am now an Open Water Certified Diver with more adventures to come.
The Scubabros have their own training lake in MiddleofNowhere, Oklahoma. (Also, I'm a city girl, and anywhere where there is not at least asphalt = Middle of Nowhere) When we get out there, it is beautiful! No city noise, no cars, nothing but the sweet sound of... Nothing! I need to get out of the city more often. Keep this in mind for later.
The first task is to descend into the lake. 25 feet. Seems like a cake walk. Not the case. There is a yellow rail that leads all the way to the platform at the bottom. The Scubabros were taking us down one at a time. I volunteer close to the beginning, as I am a little nervous. The point of the exercise is to descend to the platform and ascend, just to get the feel of the lake. Mike tells me not to go faster than him and to stay close. We start our descent. Immediately, we are not in Kansas any more. I almost feel like I would take an algae tumble weed at this point. I can see Mike's outline and feel his hand on the yellow rail, but other than that, it is just brown and shadow shapes. I stick to Mike like glue. It feels like I am basically holding his hand on the way down. He's signalling to equalize my ears, which I can do without holding my nose, so I pinch my nose anyway and signal OK. At some point, I look down at our hands to make sure all is still going well. When I look up, I realize I have lost Mike. Panic sets in. I can see a dark shape undulating beneath and ahead of me. I start to breathe fast and shallow, opposite of what my training tells me. There is a rushing sound in my head, and an odd pounding. My body is freaking out. I just closed my eyes. One deep breath. Two breaths. Three. Calming down. Four. When I open my eyes, Mike's mask consumes my entire field of view. OK? he signs. I respond with the universal sign of, "One moment please". How do I convey that I am fighting a panic attack underwater? Open hand on chest and exaggerated deep breaths. Works for me. OK? he signs again. One moment, please. Deep breath. OK I signal back, finally. No time to be a coward.
A few more feet and we reach the platform, the dark shape under me. Once we get situated on the bottom, it is time to ascend and the next student to make the journey. We all have a go at the yellow rail descent. And next up is the line descent.
Having been to the bottom already, diving down the rope was a piece of cake. Again, not descending down faster than the instructor. Once at the bottom, I had to demonstrate partial and fully flooded mask, fin pivot, and recovering and clearing my reg. Then, Mike signaled he was out-of-air, I switched to my alternate air source, gave him my 2nd stage, and we ascended.
The third dive was the most fun. Cleared a fully flooded mask, then we got to explore the platform. The bubbling sound was an aerator. It's used to keep the platform clear. We followed the rail to the bubbles and played in them a little. At first, I was just satisfied to look at. When I got bubbles swished in my face and giggled through my reg, Mike put my hand through the bubbles. Laughing with a reg in your mouth is a little tricky. Time for a simulated safety stop. My buoyancy control at this point is dire at best. I tried very hard not to embarrass myself here. Good thing the water was murky. And for the fun part. CESA. Controlled Emergency Swimming Ascent. I signal I am out of air and calmly bolt to the surface saying, "AHHHHHHHHH" to avoid exploding lungs. I was really surprised I could pull this one off. Down 25 feet, one breath at the bottom, and swimming to the surface without inhaling again. I did smack Mike on the head as we ascended. Glad he did not take points off.
Time for some surface skills. Simulated cramp removal, easy. Tired diver tow. My friend Dave was kind enough to let me tow him, All in the name of science, er, certification. More on Dave later. Now, on land, I am an accident waiting to happen. I could not walk a straight line to save my life. Apparently, there is a skill in this certification using a compass. Uh oh. The point is to set your compass and swim a straight line without raising your mask out of the water. Double uh oh. I set my compass, and start swimming. Slow at first, the needle doesn't move much. I think I am in the right place and dare to raise up out of the water. 20 feet out of the way. Oops. I get back on track and try again. I was able to navigate back to shore without any trouble.
Now, I am sure I am forgetting the little things, like establishing buoyancy during each dive. Forgive me. I am blogging about it after the fact. You can really tell what I think the highlights are. On that note, we're off to the final dive.
Descending with no visual reference. No problem. I don't remember hovering without kicking. I must have done it, but I was so bad at it. I have worked on buoyancy control on each dive after. I can now almost hover 30 seconds without moving a muscle. I removed and replaced my mask again. For the last skill, I am to tow Mike in while using a compass. This swim was far less traumatic as the first entry. I got my heading, swam a little way, stopped, checked my heading, then swam some more. Eventually, I got us back to shore and passed the class with a round of applause from my fellow students.
There is now a habit of celebrating a successful dive with a cold beer. Delighful. I am now an Open Water Certified Diver with more adventures to come.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Open Water Certification, Take 1 July 2013
July 15, 17, 22, 24, 2013.
I have thought about the scuba experience from a few years ago off and on. I have gotten to know the Scubabros a little better through work, and they always invite me to come and dive. One afternoon, while the hubster and I are sunning at the outdoor pool at the gym, I get a wild hair and decide that I am going to sign up. He is marathon training, so I have lots of time on my hands and need a hobby.
I walk into the shop, which is on the same property as the gym, and tell Mike that I am ready to sign up for scuba lessons. Once I complete the official paperwork, I get my Open Water kit. Included are a manual, DVD, and some other goodies that I have no idea what to make of. I return to the hubster poolside, I immediately crack open the manual and start reading.
My first chapter gives the introduction and encourages highlighting and writing in the book. My being an avid reader, was very hard assignment for me. I chose an orange Sharpie. Go for broke, why not? I carried this manual everywhere I went. Any spare moment for the next few days, I had my nose in that manual. I felt like a regular Hermione Granger, reading the textbook cover to cover before class.
What I will say about the video was that it helped me put the text all together. I am a visual learner, so seeing the techniques and procedures was very helpful. That being said, it was hella cheesy.
Next up were the lectures and exams. Hubby teased that only I would be worried about a test that I paid for. Needless to say, I passed the class with a 96%. Hermione like, I can tell you that I missed the question about which way to start your dive when there is a current present. I promise, I know the answer.
Now, we're up to the Confined Water Dives. AKA pool dives in which I am shown a skill and get to try it. I have to be able to put my gear together and put it on. Clear regulator, reg recovery, partial mask flood, breathe with alternate air source from buddy, understand hand signals, buddy checks, giant step entry, reg/snorkel exchange, snorkel swim, manually inflate BCD, demonstrate proper weighting, SORTeD (Signal, Orient, Regulator, Time, equalize while Descending), remove/replace mask and clear, breathe without mask, respond to out-of-air signal, STELlA (Signal, Time, Elevate, Look up, listen, Ascend), cramp removal, buoyancy, reg free flow, CESA ascent, weight belt removal and replacement, and skin diving. Wow, looking back, that's so much work. These were done in 4 pool sessions over 2 weeks, though.
Best part is up next. Open Water checkout dives.
I have thought about the scuba experience from a few years ago off and on. I have gotten to know the Scubabros a little better through work, and they always invite me to come and dive. One afternoon, while the hubster and I are sunning at the outdoor pool at the gym, I get a wild hair and decide that I am going to sign up. He is marathon training, so I have lots of time on my hands and need a hobby.
I walk into the shop, which is on the same property as the gym, and tell Mike that I am ready to sign up for scuba lessons. Once I complete the official paperwork, I get my Open Water kit. Included are a manual, DVD, and some other goodies that I have no idea what to make of. I return to the hubster poolside, I immediately crack open the manual and start reading.
My first chapter gives the introduction and encourages highlighting and writing in the book. My being an avid reader, was very hard assignment for me. I chose an orange Sharpie. Go for broke, why not? I carried this manual everywhere I went. Any spare moment for the next few days, I had my nose in that manual. I felt like a regular Hermione Granger, reading the textbook cover to cover before class.
What I will say about the video was that it helped me put the text all together. I am a visual learner, so seeing the techniques and procedures was very helpful. That being said, it was hella cheesy.
Next up were the lectures and exams. Hubby teased that only I would be worried about a test that I paid for. Needless to say, I passed the class with a 96%. Hermione like, I can tell you that I missed the question about which way to start your dive when there is a current present. I promise, I know the answer.
Now, we're up to the Confined Water Dives. AKA pool dives in which I am shown a skill and get to try it. I have to be able to put my gear together and put it on. Clear regulator, reg recovery, partial mask flood, breathe with alternate air source from buddy, understand hand signals, buddy checks, giant step entry, reg/snorkel exchange, snorkel swim, manually inflate BCD, demonstrate proper weighting, SORTeD (Signal, Orient, Regulator, Time, equalize while Descending), remove/replace mask and clear, breathe without mask, respond to out-of-air signal, STELlA (Signal, Time, Elevate, Look up, listen, Ascend), cramp removal, buoyancy, reg free flow, CESA ascent, weight belt removal and replacement, and skin diving. Wow, looking back, that's so much work. These were done in 4 pool sessions over 2 weeks, though.
Best part is up next. Open Water checkout dives.
Like A Virgin Diver Sept 2011
My first experience with scuba diving. September 6, 2011. My friend Sarah was invited to a free dive night at the local scuba shop. Red and I went along for kicks. We were introduced to the older of the illustrious Scubabros and signed our lives away. AKA waiver papers. A brief overview of how to use the equipment followed. How to clear your regulator: Put your tongue in the hole and blow. (Insert nervous girl giggles here)
I think for this to really give a good picture, explanation of the 4 Knuckleheads of the Apocalypse. Sarah, Kristen, Red and I, at one point, all worked in the same office. It was one of the better teams I had put together. At this point in our friendship, we were hanging out most nights after work. Everything was becoming an inside joke, everything was a sexual innuendo; normal bestie stuff.
So, back in the pool, putting your tongue in and blowing just fit in with our M.O. I'm sure Mike was thrilled, a gaggle of giggling girls. We tried so hard to keep straight faces, but the more you try not to laugh, the funnier things become. We got through our intro by the grace of Poseidon himself. My first breath underwater was surreal. A little against nature. And here's where scuba will get you. Defying the natural order of things. (You will soon find out why breaking rules is hard for me)
Fall in Oklahoma is tricky. It's hot enough outside to make you sweat, but the cooler nights keep the water temp on the chilly side. Needless to say, my two skinny companions were quickly shivering in their BC's. When asked if I wanted a wet suit to keep warm, I responded with a scoff. I, of extra layers, hardly ever get cold. Especially in my element.
Another flashback and history here. I am a water creature. Growing up, we had a pool in the backyard and it was nigh impossible to get me out of it most days. My parents always tease me that I am part fish. Since we were not allowed in the pool during the day with no one home, and I am an avid rule follower, my brother and I waited patiently in our suits for the garage door to open before we made a beeline to the pool. Since those summers, each year, I have pined for a pool of my own. We visit friends, parents, public pools, anything to get my fix. In 2013, we joined the gym with an outdoor and indoor pool, giving me year round access. (YES!)
Back to the lesson. We were released into the pool with just enough knowledge not to drown ourselves. As we got deeper into the pool, I started to notice the lack of cleanliness as an algae tumbleweed floated past my mask. O.o The bottom of the pool as a green slime masterpiece. To be fair, it was September, and the pools generally close when school resumes in August. But, it was extra incentive for not touching the bottom. That being said, I was hooked. The sounds underwater are sublime, peaceful, and just what you might expect. Bubbles, swishing, and ears popping.
30-45 minutes later, we are getting out of the pool. Out of the water, this gear is HEAVY! As we put it on when we were already in the water, I didn't connect the dots that it would weigh so much. We de-equipped and started to dry off, faces flushed, babbling at 90 miles and hour, and, you guessed it, giggling.
I think for this to really give a good picture, explanation of the 4 Knuckleheads of the Apocalypse. Sarah, Kristen, Red and I, at one point, all worked in the same office. It was one of the better teams I had put together. At this point in our friendship, we were hanging out most nights after work. Everything was becoming an inside joke, everything was a sexual innuendo; normal bestie stuff.
So, back in the pool, putting your tongue in and blowing just fit in with our M.O. I'm sure Mike was thrilled, a gaggle of giggling girls. We tried so hard to keep straight faces, but the more you try not to laugh, the funnier things become. We got through our intro by the grace of Poseidon himself. My first breath underwater was surreal. A little against nature. And here's where scuba will get you. Defying the natural order of things. (You will soon find out why breaking rules is hard for me)
Fall in Oklahoma is tricky. It's hot enough outside to make you sweat, but the cooler nights keep the water temp on the chilly side. Needless to say, my two skinny companions were quickly shivering in their BC's. When asked if I wanted a wet suit to keep warm, I responded with a scoff. I, of extra layers, hardly ever get cold. Especially in my element.
Another flashback and history here. I am a water creature. Growing up, we had a pool in the backyard and it was nigh impossible to get me out of it most days. My parents always tease me that I am part fish. Since we were not allowed in the pool during the day with no one home, and I am an avid rule follower, my brother and I waited patiently in our suits for the garage door to open before we made a beeline to the pool. Since those summers, each year, I have pined for a pool of my own. We visit friends, parents, public pools, anything to get my fix. In 2013, we joined the gym with an outdoor and indoor pool, giving me year round access. (YES!)
Back to the lesson. We were released into the pool with just enough knowledge not to drown ourselves. As we got deeper into the pool, I started to notice the lack of cleanliness as an algae tumbleweed floated past my mask. O.o The bottom of the pool as a green slime masterpiece. To be fair, it was September, and the pools generally close when school resumes in August. But, it was extra incentive for not touching the bottom. That being said, I was hooked. The sounds underwater are sublime, peaceful, and just what you might expect. Bubbles, swishing, and ears popping.
30-45 minutes later, we are getting out of the pool. Out of the water, this gear is HEAVY! As we put it on when we were already in the water, I didn't connect the dots that it would weigh so much. We de-equipped and started to dry off, faces flushed, babbling at 90 miles and hour, and, you guessed it, giggling.
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