Well not really the sea, it’s more like a lake, but it sounded more poetic that way. Well, it’s not exactly a natural lake either, but a former quarry that has now become the Mecca for divers in Tri-State area.
Another of Pat’s attempts to get me acclimated to the great outdoors was his hope to have a diving buddy. We went scuba diving together once when we were in Mexico. As we were on the Pacific side, the water was quite cold, the visibility was terrible and we didn’t really see much when we were down there. I came up alive and seemed to have a slight bit of fun, so I decided that I too should become a certified diver. With Pat’s gentle but persistent encouragement, some gear for my birthday, and general comments along the line of “yeah right Meghan” from my family, I signed up for lessons.
Becoming a certified diver basically has three parts: the academic component, pool dives, and open water dives. The academic portion was a piece of cake; I did some reading, watched a cheesy video, and took some tests. The pool component proved to be a touch more difficult, well at least on the first day. According to my instructor, I suffered from the same deficiency as many other novice divers: trouble refraining from breathing through my nose. In normal circumstances when using scuba, your mask covers your nose and the regulator (where you get your air) is in your mouth. Among the required skills are clearing a flooded mask, and mask removal/recovery. Sounds easy right: just getting water out of your mask, and essentially taking it off and getting it back on. Right, well think of that from my uncontrollable nose breathing point of view.
On the first try at flooding my mask I got a mouth full of water and started choking. Knowing that I was only at the bottom of a pool, my natural reaction was to rise to the surface—well, I never made it. My instructor’s approach includes solving all problems underwater. So as I am choking and struggling to get up to the surface, Bradley is trying to hold me down and calm me at the same time. In the end I survived and learned a valuable lesson.
Between sessions in the pool I did my homework—sink diving. Pat was concerned about my progress towards becoming a competent diver when he came home and caught me with my face in a full sink with a snorkel in my mouth. “No really,” I said with a dripping face. “This is my homework!” and plunged my face in for a second round. Just as expected, this was not a problem for me again.
The weekend after proving myself in the mountains I ventured to Dutch Springs in lovely Bethlehem, Pennsylvania and completed my four open water dives for certification. This place is quite a sight, not to mention an interesting experience. From the parking lot all you can see is a grassy lawn. As you walk across it, you can see downhill to the edge of the water where you see hundreds of people suiting up and walking into the lake in full gear. It felt quite surreal at first, like I was at some strange Navy Seal training ground. Without thinking about it too much, I began suiting up—from head to toe.
The one difference between diving in the Northeast and the Caribbean is the difference between the air and water temperatures. Upon arrival at Dutch Springs the temp was a balmy 95 degrees, but the water was something like 50 degrees. The process of getting ready and walking into the water felt like hell. Trust me, squeezing your sweaty body into two layers of neoprene, boots, gloves, and a hood; then strapping a tank on your back, and walking a thousand feet through gravel is not fun. But getting into the water and feeling official is quite fun though!
Over the course of a day and a half I completed all the skills necessary to become a certified diver flawlessly. I even got comments about being part fish, since I was managing my air supply like a pro. I even took my mask off and put it back on without having a panic attack. After completing the requirements, I took my first official dive to a sunken Sikorsky helicopter. It was pretty amazing to explore something so large almost forty feet below the surface. I can’t wait to go diving in the tropics with my “husband” on our honeymoon!
With my certification in hand, this fish mountain goat is ready for her next adventure…