Tales from the Tank: Warm thoughts for the winter 1: Diving In Mouse Ears

Hey folks!  Each week we want to bring you stories from our (and your) favorite dives!  So to kick things off we’re going to start Tales from the Tank with our Warm thoughts for the winter series.  So, send in those dive stories that make you feel warm when your dry suit leaks to diving@patriotscuba.com.  The best ones each month will win some kick ass Patriot Swag, just make sure you put “Tales from the Tank” in the subject line to enter.  Good luck and happy diving!

Diving in Mouse Ears: 

Okay, full disclosure: the mouse ears were metaphorical.  That said, they do call Disney World the happiest place on earth and the fact that you can log a dive there that you can do nowhere else in the world certainly adds credence to that claim.  I am, of course, talking about The Living Seas Aquarium at Epcot.  Now, I know what you are saying to yourselves right now, “An aquarium dive?  I can do those all over the place!”  And while that is technically true, calling this just an aquarium would be like calling a Porsche just a car, a moniker that were you to assert those who know would roll their eyes. 

This aquarium is special.  It’s a 25 foot dive with water so warm that you wouldn’t be surprised if you sweat in your shorty.  The visibility is the gold standard in clarity; you can float at the back of the tank and still see the restaurant voyeurs waving back at you through the 5.7 million gallons of water between you.  Plus it’s a great time to try out some different toys as the staff provide all of your gear for the dive, partly to maintain the health of the tank and partly to make sure you look good with all of those mouseketeers smooshing their faces against the glass. 

But none of those numbers and measurements are what really make a dive epic.  It’s the feel of the water slipping around you, the fluttering of your heart when nature reminds you that you aren’t alone, and the sheer and utter awe of experiencing something incredible for the first time.  I was 18 when I first dove this aquarium and it was a dive of a lot of firsts for me.  I had only been diving for about two years at this point and in that time had really only logged maybe ten dives.  I had cut my teeth diving in the Long Island Sound and, consequently, I thought Millbrook Quarry felt warm.  So you will understand my meaning when I tell you that the feeling of sliding my fins into that hot water defies description.  I could feel the heat enter my body seeping into my bones and joints, shattering the clenching that had been part of my preparation to slide into what I had never believed could be truly warm.  The decent was beyond compare as the salty wetness swattled me, depositing me gently on the bottom.

I had never dove with sharks before but now they glided past us, looping in lazy figure eights.  We had known this would happen; we had been briefed on it. The sharks swam the same route all day, every day.  You could get close, really, really close.  I’ll never forget the saucers staring out of my brother’s mask as a 10 foot sand tiger finned though the currentless water maybe six inches from our faces.  We could have blown bubbles in its face.  The deadly elegance with which it coursed through the brine around us cast an almost ominous presence.  Its eyes weren’t the dull stupid orbs that straddle the sides of shark heads during shark week but rather they were steely and aware.  They gave the hulking fish a look of powerful consciousness as though it were some ancient, timeless intelligence biding its time in this holding pattern.  Simply waiting.  But for what?

The sharks renewed my deepest respects for the power behind nature; however, they were not what grabbed me and consumed me with awe.  The laurels for that achievement could only go to the 400 pound green sea turtle that ruled that tank.  It was a reptile of monstrous proportions, boasting the kind of armored mass that made sea monsters plausible.  Watching this green hulk sail though the water with complete ease awakened a deep and primal awe in me, the likes of which are so rare these days.  In world where a picture and a caption of everything known to man is only seconds away on the internet, this feeling was foreign and captivating.  It bleed down from somewhere behind my eyes and filled me like a torrent.  All I wanted to do was follow that turtle, to drift along with it and watch it float its bulk though the salt.  Infinite grace in such an unlikely form.

With about 40 minutes of bottom time, the dive was over too soon and the world cold again even in the humid air above the water.  A towel is poor substitute for a warm sea’s gentle embrace.  Unfortunately, all priceless dives must end and necessarily we are once again thrust into the world.  Yet, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t endeavor to seek out the bliss of that perfect dive wherever we can.  So, if any of you are planning on diving the Florida Springs anytime soon then check out the The Living Seas Aquarium dive at Epcot.  You won’t regret it.

-Rob C.

Dispatches from the Patriot Scuba 2012 Roatan trip-my last trip with Patriot Scuba (at least for the time being).

After an absurdly early departure from Washington which, amazingly, went off without a hitch, we had a layover in Atlanta. Desperately in need of caffeine, I ran into my friend Mirta in line for coffee. Seeing her felt like an appropriate bookend for this journey. She was on her way home to Roatan after visiting family in Italy with her new daughter. For many years Mirta has run the dive operation at a fantastic little resort called Las Rocas, which is tucked away at the quiet end of West Bay Beach on Roatan. Almost eight years ago, after a rough patch in life and on my first vacation in way too long, I wandered up to the dive shop at Las Rocas and asked Mirta if she had any room on the boat that morning. I was immediately made to feel welcome and within a few days of diving, and of not doing anything too stupid underwater, like family. The ten days I spent diving at Las Rocas mean a great deal to me as they really changed my life, and for the better.

The staff instructors, Willie and Arturo, both still good friends, were a blast to dive with and something of an inspiration. They are both extremely skilled professionals, but what got to me was the fact that they were doing what they loved most, doing it very well and sharing that enthusiasm with their customers. As Willie used to say, they were living a rich man's life without the hassles of getting rich. I had a good job, but I couldn't claim that. After I got home I spent the next few weeks in a bit of a fog, part of me not having returned to "normal" life at all. My head was still largely in Roatan, so I made a fateful decision to join it there. I called Mirta and asked if she would be willing to take me on as a Divemaster candidate. After two months of very hard work and very big fun, I came back to the States with my Divemaster program complete and, as they say, the rest is history.

Arriving in Roatan has always had the feeling of coming home and
this trip is no exception. The Patriot group couldn't be nicer, with dive experience ranging from beginner to expert. And CoCo View never disappoints. Nora met us at the airport and in no time we were comfortably set up in our rooms and getting ready for the mandatory checkout dive. Our days here include two boat dives per day, but on the way back in to the resort one can do what is called a drop-off dive where the boat drops you off at the end of one of the two house walls so that you can swim directly to the resort, usually with a stop at the Prince Albert, the excellent house wreck. The house walls, CoCo View wall and Newman's wall, are healthy and thriving. The Prince Albert was a freighter and can be very well enjoyed from the outside. For those with the training and experience, it also makes a wonderful penetration dive, either into the wheel house or from hold to hold in the main body of the ship. I have always loved diving wrecks and coming back to the Prince Albert is like seeing an old friend.

Over the past few days we have seen eels, rays, lobsters, toad fish, lion fish, crabs large and small, sharks, sea horses, puffer fish, blennies, gobies, cleaner shrimp, squid, octopus (octopi?, octopodes?, who knows)- you name it! John has been busy teaching up a storm with AOW and several specialties in the mix. I've watched-and I always love seeing it on these trips-as people get better and better and more comfortable underwater. Our guide, Eddie, has the most amazing set of eyes on him. He can spot the smallest, coolest animals without, apparently, even trying. On Wednesday we took a special three tank trip to the East end of Roatan where we dove the rarely visited and therefore pristine reefs there. The East end has hardly any development so we seemed to have the whole world to ourselves. After two great drift dives we had lunch and then swam to a tiny deserted island to pursue our private Robinson Crusoe fantasies. The dive operation here at CoCo View is really first rate, and we ended the afternoon with a nice wall dive and then a ride back on the fast boat to the resort. Wednesday's happy hour featured live music and half priced drinks, though a few intrepid souls denied themselves in favor of a night dive in search of the elusive nocturnal octopus, which was quickly located. The shore diving is unlimited and available 24/7-a dive glutton's delight. And for that reason CoCo view does attract plenty of dive gluttons.

The resort itself is simple but clean, well run and completely oriented to divers. The buffet meals are delicious, plentiful and varied and the staff will go out of their way to make sure everyone is satisfied. A couple of people in our group have special dietary needs and they have been met with the best of humor. People come back here year after year-the record being 120 visits by one person. Now that's a satisfied customer! My wife, Colleen, likes to describe it as an Adirondacks lodge plopped down in the Caribbean. Our rooms are on stilts over the water and we each have chairs and a hammock on our private deck.

But alas, all good things must come to an end. On Friday, slightly worn from a busy week of diving, night we had a rum punch party at the bar with a fantastic local guitarist. The guy could really play and had some serious rock star moves. Saturday morning came all too soon-bleary and thankfully rainy. Less than perfect weather makes leaving a little easier to take. After breezing through security and a wait in the lounge, we boarded the flight north and back to the normal world. Many thanks to Jeff and Merial for making this trip a reality. But above all, many thanks to Colleen, Victoria, Faith, Jose, Jennifer, Tim, Joanne, Earnie, Bret, Mike, John & Constance for being such great dive and travel companions to one of my favorite places on Earth. Let's do it again sometime!

-Miko

Diving for life

Let’s be completely candid for a minute.  While diving is statistically one of the safest sports out there, it comes with some inherent risks.  I mean, we make it seem pretty nonchalant but, bluntly put, we are underwater breathing compressed air.  Yet, we are never more acutely aware of this as when we take that first puff off of the regulator, when that first frenzy of bubbled breath rushes by our cheeks.  The irony, of course, is that this is when we are the safest divers, while we still respect the magnitude of the sport, while we are constantly remembering that SCUBA stands for self-contained UNDERWATER BREATHING apparatus and isn't just a funny word for a cool sport.  But as we dive more and more, as we learn that there is no need to be afraid or nervous, we lose some of that respect.  We forget that what we are doing is incredible; it begins to feel commonplace, almost the norm.  That is when the dangers of the sport begin to creep back in.  We lose the vigilance of the novice that kept us glued to the rules and to our tables.  We feel fortified in our skills, impregnable in our technique.  But the ugly truth is that we aren’t and it is in that state of mind that recklessness is born.  That’s when we get in over our heads (if you’ll excuse the bad pun) and into trouble.  Too often it takes a close call to remind us of the soft spots in our routines.

I think that is one of the best things about the Rescue Diver course.  It usually gets taken at a stage in our diving development where we need reminding why the rules exist, why those pesky tables matter.  Most of us, with any luck, will never have cause to use the skills we develop in the rescue diver course but what we will use is the self-awareness that comes with the course.  Ideally, Open Water should teach us to be aware of ourselves, Advanced Open Water should teach us to be aware of our surroundings, and Rescue Diver should teach us to be aware of the divers around us.  However, I find that most divers don’t really become self-aware until their rescue class.  Nothing highlights the effects of one’s own actions as effectively as showing how they can save a life.  The course forces you to see how your actions affect other divers, how drastic those effects can be, and by extension how lax standards put yourself and everyone around you at risk.

It is this self-awareness that truly keeps us safe.  Rescue should be a last resort.  Safety begins with self.  This is the biggest and most important lesson of the Rescue Diver course and consequently easily the one most students struggle with.  Learning how to tow a tired diver or deal with a panicked one is really the easy part; learning to master yourself in the water is far more daunting.  That is why so many rescue students get hung up on the gear removal while towing an unresponsive diver.  It forces you to become comfortable with your skills, to focus on a complicated task, and still keep yourself safe.  That is a lot to ask from any one diver so it comes as no surprise that the metamorphosis in a student who makes it through the course is palpable.  The shift in confidence is incredible but arguably the most impressive change is the renewed respect for the enormity of the sport.  They realize that rescue divers don’t make us safer because they can save the distressed.  They make us safer because they themselves are safer divers.  We should all be lucky.  We don’t just owe it to our buddy.  We owe it to ourselves.

Changing Lives

A few weeks ago, I was manning Patriot Scuba’s booth at the biannual Occoquan Craft Show.  It’s a big deal for the merchants in this area as it attracts tens of thousands of people from various walks of life though this otherwise quiet town.  It’s the kind of event where most people weave their way through the throngs of tented booths more often than not finding themselves in conversation with one merchant or another until the whole event takes on a social feel.  Our booth gets a lot of this social interaction as even non-divers find themselves wandering in out of curiosity.  That particular day, I greeted a passerby with our usual “Ready to start diving?” but received an unusual reply. 

“I wish,” she said through a sad sort of smile.  She could see the question forming in my eyes and preempted it with a rather sad story beginning with a gruesome car crash and a badly fractured spine and culminating in a bout with cancer that left this survivor with a permanent limp.  Her features were thick with the melancholy of possibilities lost, dreams of diving dying all over again in her eyes.  That’s when I mentioned the HSA (Handicapped Scuba Association).  The loss on her face cleared like so much fog as she took the medical forms from my hand.  The electric sensation of hope returning to once despondent features was palpable.  “Thank you,” she beamed tripping slightly on her words.  “I never thought – I never knew that I could still – Thank you.  Thank you so much.”

It is moments like this that keep me teaching.  Nothing compares to the feeling you get watching it all click with a student.  There are plenty of students that butt up against challenges in dive classes, fear of the water, low confidence or physical limitation.  Some overcome these faster than others but, regardless of what the challenge or how long it takes to overcome, watching that metamorphosis from struggling student to successful diver is awe inspiring.  A student who pushes through their perceived limitations and reaches a level of success they previously thought impossible is forever changed.  That sort of achievement liberates people from the shackles of their own self-imposed limitations and the change is tangible.  Changes like that permeate the lives of those students, giving them the confidence to succeed where once they met only failure.  I've had more than one new diver tell me that open water changed their lives, that they had more confidence at work, at home, in public.  They stand taller, breathe easier, and take on life with an easy smile.  I want to be a part of that change.  I want to help people grow like that. 

Teaching diving allows me to be a part of that experience.  So send me your wide-eyed students, send me your scared and your skittish.  Send me all of your “problem students” and your novice divers.  I’ll take them all just to see the look on their faces when can’t becomes can.  Every smile and look of astonished joy makes all the hard work worth it.  Scuba diving changes lives and that is why I teach.

Caitlin in the Keys - 2 days, 7 dives, 2 much to tell!

Another magnificent trip down to the Florida Keys where in 2 days I did 7 dives off of Key Largo, this time I was down there conducting a friend’s Advanced Open Water certification. The adrenaline starts flowing when the boat goes into full throttle and those wonderful blues of the Keys ocean water surrounds you. These conditions were a little different for my friend who had done his Open Water Certification at Stoney Cove in England, for those who do not know the two are miles apart, well quite literally.

We started off our first two dives in the afternoon on beautiful shallow reefs; the first was just an orientation dive followed by the first of the adventure dives, navigation! The only trouble we had with the navigation was trying to navigate through all the schools of fish on the dive site Snapper’s Ledge; numerous colorful species in such abundance made for a truly refreshing dive. A short break to grab a snack, rehydrate, and we were off on our sunset boat trip to our next dive site, the Benwood Wreck. Sweet, wreck night dive! As we descended, the waters still alight with the sun just above the horizon; we joined the numerous parrotfish, grunts, and porkfish that inhabit the wreck. The scene and atmosphere quickly changed, our flashlights on, it was time to slowly move over and around the wreck poking in to all the nooks and crannies. While many of the fish seen during the day were tucking themselves in for the night; those that hide away were coming out to play! There were lobsters shuffling in full view, crabs flexing their pincers, and a lucky octopus spotting! We returned to land under the full moon exhilarated by our dives.

The following morning our dive site was to be a double dip on the Spiegal Grove wreck, a 510-foot Navy transport ship sunk in 2002, for both our deep and wreck adventure dives. My friend looked at me with excitement during the deep adventure briefing about comparing the depth gauges at 100 ft; suspiciously as he performed the timed skill; and curiously when I asked him to look at my red soda can. During the dive he looked at me with even greater excitement when after comparing depth gauges a nurse shark appeared on the stern of the wreck! During our safety interval we debriefed the dive, and he expressed to me the difference he felt on the timed skill being slower underwater and that my red soda can was no longer red at depth. He now wore a look of understanding and anticipation to get back in for our wreck adventure. The visibility was about 80 ft. which made for another incredible dive on this fantastic wreck. We both noted that the current had picked up and used it to our advantage to navigate around the outside of the wreck. He was quick to point out all the dangers he saw along the way. We filled out our log books on the way back, pumping with adrenaline.

Quick lunch break and we were back on the boat for the final adventure dive, one of my personal favorites, digital underwater photography at an ideal dive site: Molasses Reef. With its high profile coral heads and massive congregates of tropical marine life defining this popular reef, he was not short of subjects for his shots. Of course, I did my bit to provide subject matter; anyone who knows me knows I am not a big fan of having my photo taken. He did great, followed my instructions, and kept breathing and mindful of his buoyancy over the reefs. After a massive high 5 and congratulations to the new Advanced Open Water Diver the boat had moved us to another dive site. The final dive was just for fun, and it sure was! We leisurely made our way through the “channels” of coral taking in all the colors of the corals and fish.

Back on shore we were sad to log our final dive for the trip, but happy with our success and it was definitely worth the effort! The dive sites off of Key Largo once again produced amazing new memories for me. A special thanks to Horizon Divers and the wonderful staff for providing us both with a fantastic experience, I am looking forward to returning in the near future!

(Interested in a Florida Keys Trip?  Check out our Travel Page and join Caitlin in January! - http://www.patriotscuba.com/?page=travel)

Wounded Warrior Discover Scuba – by Eliseo Rodriguez

I recently had the opportunity to lead a group of individuals with Wounded Warrior Project assisted by Tim Cavanaugh, Don Lewis and Lisa Mucha. While their injuries were not visible, the scars left by events past are no less important.

The day began like any other with medical releases and other paperwork being reviewed, Discover Scuba Briefings and gear being fitted. In the water we practiced skills like regulator recovery and mask clearing. Once we finished going over skills and began the free swim, the value of SCUBA diving became immediately evident. Individuals suffering from PTSD experience symptoms including feeling numb or losing interest in things they used to care about, thinking that they are always in danger feeling anxious, jittery, or irritated and experiencing a sense of panic that something bad is about to happen. When we were underwater, and I had the opportunity to see these warriors enjoy the freedom and peace of mind that SCUBA diving offers, it was immediately clear that they were able to let down their guard. One was swimming around neutrally buoyant through a hula hoop chasing a toypedo. Another was casually lying on his back on the bottom of the pool enjoying the hypnotic rhythm of the sound of his bubbles and watching them on their journey upward to the surface where they would break and join the air above. This is what Scuba is all about. Complete serenity. The hustle and bustle of the dry world, all the worries and problems thrown at us by life are gone for those brief, cherished moments underwater.

When the experience came to an end, and we were packing away gear, I was thanked through smiles that were not there at the start of the day and asked when we could do this again. As Scuba divers we take a lot for granted. Being able to give these gentlemen that have given soo much a glimpse into our world left me completely humbled. It is said that our life should not be judged by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. This was one of those moments. So to those wounded warriors I say, “Thank you.”

If you would like to know more about Patriot Scuba’s Wounded Warrior Training program, contact Patriot Scuba at diving@patriotscuba.com or Wounded Warrior Project visit www.woundedwarriorproject.org

Eliseo E Rodriguez “Rod” is a PADI IDC Staff Instructor, HSA, DAN and EFR Instructor with Patriot Scuba as well as an Active Duty US Marine Gunnery Sergeant.

My Truk Odyssey - by Lisa Mucha

In August 2012, PATRIOT SCUBA's Miko Chavchavadze lead a trip to Truk Lagoon aboard the Truk Odyssey

"I have to admit, on the plane ride over to Chuuk, I wasn't fazed by the extensive time I spent either in the air or in random airports, as the long awaited opportunity of a life time had finally arrived. The anticipation outweighed the restlessness. When we finally landed in Guam at some ballistic hour of the morning and the airport was like a ghost town and I don’t think anyone minded because it was apparent everyone was tired. Eventually the short flight took off for Chuuk and we were on our way.

Once we landed in Chuuk, we were directed towards customs. I watched the locals gather together as we proceeded to go through customs, thinking to myself, how fortunate I was to be living the life I was living, in more ways than one. We were then quickly greeted at the airport by the boat captain, Nelson, and a few other staff. I’m not quite sure who because it was dark and there was a decent amount of locals standing around, who had just returned from Guam with coolers of food. Shortly then thereafter, we were aboard the bus and being driven through the impoverished streets of downtown Chuuk, if you could call it that. I'm not quite sure I would call it a road upon, which we traveled, but the driver was quite entertaining with his stories of the history of the island.

When we finally arrive at the Blue Lagoon resort, it was still hard to determine what we were about to experience, as the sun had long set. We were walking down this narrow path, through the palm trees to a small awaiting boat. Once we all climbed into the small craft in the dark of the night, the anticipation began to build as we could see the Odyssey in the distance lit up like a fortress perched upon the calm water. After everyone was aboard, paperwork was completed, and drink of choice was selected, everyone retired for the night.

I’m convinced I was the first person up that morning, and it had nothing to do with being on Eastern Standard Time. I woke up around 0530 and pulled back the curtain only to discover all was still black. The next hour seemed like a lifetime for me, but finally the sun came up and I ran up on deck for coffee. I hadn’t even considered breakfast until it became apparent we would be served breakfast made to order every morning by Tarsy and Poorly, the two crew who did all the cooking. Three meals a day and two snacks in between. The biggest commotion over snacks was when we were served fresh sushi, as John, Miko, Constance and I would race up to the dining room trying to beat everyone there. The food was fabulous! Maybe because it was made fresh every meal? Maybe it was because someone else was making it? Or maybe just because everything was made with care and tasted great.

After breakfast every morning we had our first dive brief, which was either given by Nelson, the boat Captain; or Todd, an instructor. They were incredibly informative, as it was almost like sitting in a history class. But I honestly have to say, not only did I learn so much about the wrecks I was going to dive, but also a few tips as to giving a dive brief. They were amazing. I can also say I was never board listening to anything said during the briefs either, as there was a plethora of information provided on every wreck we were diving. It almost sounded as if they had memorized the actual book of the Truk Lagoon history.

Then the time finally came………..the first dive! I couldn’t get off the boat fast enough and honestly? It didn’t matter who I dove with, I just wanted to get in the water. Oh the water! It was like bath water, even at almost 130 feet, it was still 85 degrees. The visibility was less than I had anticipated, but that did not faze me one bit, as we began our descent down to the first ship. Each dive was a lead dive by one of the crew members, which was fine by me, because I knew they would take us exactly where we wanted to go. As we slowly moved across the water, the only sound you could hear was our bubbles. Then there it was, the Kiyosumi, a passenger cargo ship. At that very moment I realized, everything I had read and all the research I had done and all the pictures I had looked at finally became reality for me. What was once a vibrant vessel was now a peaceful resting place, which had come to life in a different way. It was full of sea life, and vibrant colors, with something moving over every inch as I slowly moved around the stern. Initially, I couldn’t take enough photos. Then I realized I was so enthralled by everything I was seeing, my camera became just another piece of gear to me and I just began looking around. I can truly say I don’t regret not taking a thousand photos, because what I observed could never be duplicated in the artificial sense. There was a feeling of solace, as I hovered over the massive resting area to so many Japanese who lost their lives that day in 1944, as everything moved so gracefully with the gentle current. It almost felt surreal, as we slowly moved over and around the vessel. One of the most exciting things for me to see were the clown fish, as they intimately made their way through the carpet like sized sea anemones. Having owned a salt water fish tank, and observing their behavior in captivity, could not remotely compare to what I witnessed during this magnificent experience. Now I’m sure many are thinking, I traveled all this way to dive some of the most desired wrecks in the world and I’m talking about clown fish. Well yes, I was enthralled by them and part of the reason why, was because the ships I was diving were so large, it was hard to actually tell it was a ship until you started to move around inside the massive holds below, as that was when the ships actually came to life. Everything was so magnificently preserved despite lying on the bottom of the lagoon for some 68 years. Even though this was the final resting place for so many who lost their lives that day, it almost appeared to come alive before me as I gently glided through the engine rooms, the kitchens, the bath areas.

Every direction I turned there was a piece of life before me, whether it be a telephone, sake bottles, gas masks, shoes, rifles, medicine bottles or ammo. There was a sense of life around every corner and this feeling remained the same no matter what wreck we were diving for the day, whether it be Yamagiri, or the Unkai, or the Gosei, or the Rio de Janero, or the Hoki, or the Fugikawa, or the Nippo, or even the Heian, the feeling always remained the same. Where life had once capitulated, now, had blossomed into something so beautiful it would take most peoples’ breath away. These superstructures, which floated upon the surface, had come to their final resting places deep below the great big blue and to see history right before my very eyes is something I will never forget.

I will go back again someday, and I will dive the San Francisco, which lies between 165 and 210 fsw. Thank you to everyone I shared this experience with and to everyone who made this journey rememberable for me. "

Thanks for sharing Lisa!