We
were on a live a board in the Red Sea looking forward to a night
dive on the Alternatives. It was mid week and the group of divers
had settled down to easy photographic dives, with the chance of
a Spanish Dancer or two: a nice prospect.
The
dive was planned: the leading pair would mark the top of the reef
with a buoy, with chemical lights on it. They entered the water,
towing the buoy, which stopped moving after about 3 minutes, but
seemed a long way off. Funny, it didn't look right.
Anyway,
Pip and I entered the water and reached the reef in no time - we
got there quickly! With minds focused on photography, details were
soon put aside. Pip initiated our usual search plan, to cover in
some detail as much seabed as possible. A Spanish Dancer was lying
on the bottom, my job was to get it up into mid water so she could
photograph it against a black background and to instil some movement
into it.
Putting
down the second camera, I gently wafted the Dancer towards my hand
- BANG! I went straight into a long-spined sea urchin, spines breaking
off in my elbow. I twisted round in pain and another one's spines
entered my knee - the place was infested with them!
Pippa
got off half a dozen shots before my torch failed. I had knocked
the spare camera somehow and the Oceanic flashgun decided to go
fully automatic. Pip's Nikon had also come out in sympathy and had
jammed; the camera refusing to open the shutter. Yes, it was time
to go back to the boat. What a waste of time! Air check - used a
lot - how long? 20 minutes. Let's go back. I signalled and we surfaced.
On
the surface, I realised why we had got to the reef so quickly in
the first place: there was a very strong surface current - this
time it was against us. Swim to the boat I signalled. Fins cutting
water hard - we were getting nowhere fast. Back to basics, get positive
buoyancy. B.C.filling up - something's wrong -- full inflation,
not enough - I was floating just above eye level. This is ridiculous!
I have got masses of buoyancy. Heavy camera pulling one hand down
and getting in the way...
Pippa
had hold of me now, pressing her inflator, we got a bit more buoyancy.
Swim for the boat! OK! It was very choppy, the boat kept vanishing
- we were now about 100 meters to the rear of the port side and
being taken further and further away.
I
stopped swimming, I was exhausted, my legs were cramping. Get buoyancy!
I tried again and got a bit more but heard a bubbling of escaping
air - no, not now! Hadn't someone on the boat seen this - shout!
I screamed - no response, I kept shouting, with no response at all
from the boat. Where was all the crew? My regulator long since out
of my mouth, in the pitch dark, the boat seemed miles away. I shouted
again. Why didn't they return our signals? Pip, I sobbed, then blind
panic - can't breathe and shout at the some time, getting water
in my mouth.
Pippa
was feeding me air from her spare, but she realised that I was putting
her in danger and was very much relieved when I passed out. All
I can remember at that time, was a great calm, then bright flashing
lights before my eyes - everything went into slow motion. This was
it, no more diving for me. I had a great sadness as I felt Pippa
next to me, heard her voice; she was blowing a whistle in-between
calming words. There was so much I wanted to say to her... but it
was too late and I had no time left.
Cold
sea was on my face, in my nose in my mouth; then warm damp air was
blown into my mouth expelling the water as it came.
An
outboard engine exploded the silence. New voices, many hands, the
images turned as I fell on something hard, fingers in my mouth.
I started to cough and splutter, my eyes focused on wood.
Was
this the chase boat? Yes, I heard the voices of Pip, other divers'and
the skipper's.
I climbed the boat's ladder and fell on to one of the benches, they
told me later, but I can't remember any of it, all I was concerned
about were my cameras.
When
I had recovered a little, the Captain asked "Why didn't you
float until picked up? "No buoyancy" was my reply. Iasked
him, "Why did no crew see our problem?" It was then that
the Captain's English gave way and he looked very confused. It turned
out that each member of the crew thought it was another's turn for
Diving Watch. We were lucky as one of our own divers had seen the
problem and raised the alarm. Other divers had also to be picked
up, including one very experienced 1st class diver, showing just
how strong the surface currents were. Ishook violently and was rough
for 2 hours or so, but very happy to be here. Thanks, Ruddy, for
sticking with me, and, OH YES, THANKS FOR, SAVING MY LIFE!
Reproduced
from in focus 67 (February 2000) |
