Scuba diving: the ultimate boys’ adventure

Scuba diving: the ultimate boys’ adventure

Taken from Times Online,  December 2, 2009

I don’t think I knew what the ultimate boys’ adventure was until suddenly I was on it. A journey 20,000 leagues (or at least 40 feet) under the sea – scuba diving for the first time in my life. Two weeks earlier, my mate Chris told me over a pint that he was headed to the Caribbean to go diving (his second favourite thing in the world, apparently) and suggested I should join him. Before I had sobered up I had already booked my ticket and soon we were on a plane travelling from British rain to British Virgin Island sunshine.

Learning to Scuba Dive

A two-day course in the Caribbean took me from my first encounter with a wetsuit to diving on a wreck. Dive BVI operate a course at Rosewood Little Dix Bay resort accredited by the Professional Association of Diving Instructors (PADI), which caters to all skill levels including mine: absolute know-nothing rank amateur.

Before I went to the Caribbean, I spoke to a few friends who had been scuba diving who gave mixed reports. Some had trouble with their ears, some with their breathing, some with the general sense of claustrophobia. Altogether it would be fair to say I felt a little apprehensive about the whole thing.

Rather than a difficult experience though, diving actually came very naturally. It felt like a curious cross between flying, meditating and going to the most colourful museum in the world. After I had done it once I was absolutely hooked.

The first day of diving was a crash course. Having filled out a range of forms, which served to exonerate Dive BVI from any legal responsibility in the case of my untimely death, I was issued with wetsuit, weights, tank and breathing apparatus, and walked through the basics of diving.

My instructor Anna Janczewska and I then plunged into the shallows to practice basic skills including emptying your mask if it fills with water, reclaiming your regulator if it comes out of your mouth, and breathing from a friend’s tank if your own air runs out. After a couple of hours of training I was ready for my first proper dive.

Joined by a small group of divers we headed off to the calm waters around Ginger Island. Coming to rest in the shadow of the island, we put on our kit and plunged in. I swam to the bobbing buoy nearby and gripping the safety line that ran from surface to ocean floor I began my descent. At first I had a little trouble equalising (popping your ears to relieve the pressure) but once I sorted myself out I let go of the safety line and swam out to join my fellow divers in the open water.

Having descended on the north side of Ginger Island where the water was flat and calm, we swam out to investigate the healthy coral reef that runs the length of the island starting at about 15 feet under the boat and falling away to the sandy bottom at about 60 feet. Sea anemones litter the reef and investigating the holes and ledges yielded lobster, octopus and a broad array of fascinating fish.

The thing that first struck me about diving is how dissimilar it is to swimming. Rather than paddling with your arms, little kicks of the legs are used for propulsion. A great part of the skill is using breathing effectively: too much inhalation and you burn through your air more swiftly and have to resurface early. It takes some time to learn to control your air intake to get maximum efficiency out of a tank. Curiously, breathing is also used for manoeuvring: a deep breath in and your lungs fill with air causing you to rise, a sharp exhalation and you sink down towards the bottom. Resurfacing from my first proper dive felt particularly magical. It is an amazing experience to be surrounded by people above and below all dressed like chicly-tailored astronauts floating gently towards the shimmering surface.

The second day’s dives were something special. Piloting our way out of Little Dix Bay we veered towards Salt Island for two dives over a shipwreck.

The RMS Rhone was a 19th century British vessel owned by the Royal Mail Steam Packet Company that sank in a heavy storm on October 29, 1867 taking the lives of almost all of its passengers.

The wreckage is strewn across quite a distance and as a novice diver I wasn’t able to see all of it because I was limited to going to a depth of around 40 feet.

As we submerged a myriad of lollipop-coloured fish swam through the coral surrounding the wreckage, largely oblivious to our presence. Five metres below the surface two sting rays glided past, undulating gently. Deeper down hedgehog fish traced their shapes into the sand, while sergeant majors defended their territory jealously, even swimming aggressively towards my goggles, before retreating.

After a short break to allow the body’s nitrogen levels to return to normal, we took our second dive and headed down towards the wreck proper. Starting at the stern of the ship we manoeuvred over the vast propeller, an enormous hunk of metal the size of a van, rusted and entirely overgrown with coral. Swimming around the debris were trumpet fish, squirrel fish, groupers, sting rays, rainbow fish and more. The sight of the wreck was strangely eerie, its peaceful rest at the bottom of the ocean a sharp contrast to the violence of the storm that must have brought it to there. As my air supplies dwindled I was summoned to the surface enormously reluctantly.

Rosewood Little Dix Bay was a magnificent place to learn to scuba dive. The waters surrounding Virgin Gorda, the island upon which the resort was located, are clear and warm and home to the most beautiful aquatic life. The resort itself is stunningly appointed, with thoughtful little details such as a bottle of rum to greet you on arrival to get you into the Caribbean spirit. The restaurants are top notch, and the spa an excellent extravagance to rehabilitate you after your days spent splashing about under water.

Scuba diving is honestly an experience unlike any other, and one that everyone should agree to drunkenly after a night out with mates. It may turn out to be a drunken error of judgement, but it may also be the best adventure of your life.

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