The Keys to my Diary ~ Fern

Tuesday, April 21

I almost died tonight on the night dive, and Jared saved my life! My heart is still pumping from all of the excitement. Geesh, I think my whole life flashed before my eyes. That rather ho-hum review of my life thus far felt rather insignificant, by the way. I definitely need to start doing a lot more potent living.

The evening started out great. Our group gathered and dined at a little, hole-in-the-wall restaurant that has the best cheeseburgers I've ever tasted. It was so delicious, and I was having so much fun chatting with the gang, that I was almost able to relax and forget about our impending dive.

The others were all so excited, and I didn't want to be a Debbie-Downer, so I smiled and tried to act like I was enthusiastic about it too. In all honesty, the adventure portion of our evening did start out fun. It was a gorgeous, clear night, and it looked like there were a million stars twinkling over the dark, slightly choppy ocean. Frank captained the boat, and we zoomed quickly over the water towards our first dive location, the Duane.

The Duane is a 327' Coast Guard vessel that was intentionally sunk in the late 80's to create an artificial reef. The wreck sits at a depth of one hundred and ten feet. It was my first dive on a shipwreck and my first dive below one hundred feet. I had a bad feeling about it. I should have listened to my gut.

As the group divided up into pairs, Jared and I became dive buddies by some unspoken agreement. It seemed like he had just assumed that we would be together on the dive, and I kind of liked that. Okay, I really liked that.

Jared is a much more advanced scuba diver than I am. My concern that he might ridicule me for my lack of skills quickly dissipated when I saw the patience and kindness he exhibited while we were suiting up. Yes, even getting into the wetsuit is a challenge for me, which made it apparent that I was the novice of the group before we even touched the water.

When I tightened the buoyancy compensator (b.c.) with the scuba tank on my back and stood up, I teetered backwards from the added weight and the rocking of the boat. Jared grabbed me by the tank valve and kept me from falling flat on my butt. He gave me a sweet smile, which I returned with duck lips because I already had my mask on and it was suctioned to my face. I had to look ridiculous; but rather than making me feel like a buffoon, he gave me a sweet wink.

I let that wink give me a burst of confidence and quickly jumped into the water. I failed to hold onto my mask (even though that is Basic Diving 101), so it flew off when I went under. When I surfaced, I couldn't see, and I was a little panicked at having already lost my mask. I forgot to give the 'ok' signal back to the boat as I was flailing around looking for my mask, which was probably rapidly sinking to the ocean floor.

Suddenly, Jared was there, holding my shoulders and asking if I was okay. I looked into his calm, puppy-dog eyes and nodded. He pushed the button on my b.c. to fill it with air, so I could relax and hold the line from the boat while he searched for my mask. I watched the others gracefully entering the water. They made it look so easy. If I had a hundred years to practice, I probably still couldn't become as adept at scuba diving as the rest of the group. It just isn't my forte. Of course, I'm not sure what my forte IS, but there must be something.

Jared went under and surfaced with my missing mask in-hand. He helped me get it situated before asking, "You sure you're up for this?" I nodded in answer to his question because I already had my regulator in my mouth. I pushed the button to release the extra air from the b.c. to confirm my answer.

At the Duane, there is a rope attached to a buoy that you grab ahold of and follow down to the wreck. Should be a piece of cake, right? Ummm, not so much. I was going hand-over-hand down the rope when I realized what Marina meant when she had told me that there could be a 'pretty strong current in this area.' What she had really meant was there is a demonic current from hell that is going to sweep you away to Cuba if you don't have the upper-body strength of Arnold Schwarzenegger.