Open water course- part one

Every now and then, you hit a precipice...

Flushed with success, the open water dive course awaited me.

...and like the anchor that sinks to the bottom, I had that 'here we go again' feeling the night Chris dropped by with the contents of the course. A zip up bag containing pamphlets, a dive log book (to record your dives), a PADI open water dive book to be read and worked through (knowledge reviews at the end of each chapter), and an electronic dive planner- this is NOT a dive computer- it looks like a large calculator but take this thing in water and it's going to go fizz..crackle...and stop working.

The book is well written in an easy to follow style with a good way of teaching the reader- it asks you periodically to look for information within the text and highlight it with a yellow marker. It's a bit like doing homework but a lot more fun!

This was my start to the open water course.

With equal measures of fear and enthusiasm, I approached the book, skim read a bit, but didn't really do much until Chris smacked me on the leg for being indolent a few weeks later. Spurred on by the physical encouragement (is that what they call it these days?), I started to read...

...then came the first lesson. After a reasonably uneventful drive I ended up pulling into the dive shop once again to be told "don't think you're sitting around- off you go to the school room" (she says it like a school teacher, too!)

My gentle introduction to the course began with one of the most relaxed groups of teachers I have ever come across. Three Micks (S is laid back, R is senior and second only to Chris I think, and T owns the shop and has the best poker face I've seen in years), Balders (friendly), Damien (cheerful) and Zoe (encouraging). Mick S took me for lesson one and whether by accident or design gave me a multi choice questionnaire to fill out without my having read any of the book, which was a bit of a shock. For a mock test, I still passed (to my surprise)

We hit the poolside. Chris was teaching a Divemaster course (after open water comes advanced open water, then master scuba diver, and then Divemaster) and part of the course seemed to revolve around assisting students- so Chris was taking me in the water with the help of a great guy called Ralph. Once the equipment was put together and buddy check complete, it was time to enter the pool with a method known as a ' boat entry' or 'giant stride'. In this vertigo-inducing skill, you step off into the deep end having inflated your BCD first so you don't sink.

Okay, here comes the fear again. The giant stride entry is tantamount to stepping out of a perfectly working airplane with a parachute on- except there's no slipstream, no drop, and no parachute. Okay, maybe this is a bad analogy, but for me it was like that. Ralph went in, signalled the way was clear, I stood there with my hands securing my loose equipment...

...and nothing,

"Put more air in your BCD" Chris told me. Okay- I was ready, I was willing...I was stood there still not leaping in.

Fear is more than just an overwhelming precipice: it's more accurate to say that it is made up of the sum of its parts. I found that night that fear isn't just a question of saying "I'm scared of water- all of it- in its entirety". The actual truth was that I was scared of different aspects of water. Leaping into the void and trusting my equipment to keep me floating was a bigger deal than I realized. I counted down, breathing steadily through the regulator all the time, and I still hadn't stepped off the edge of the pool.

"Just think of it like jumping from an airplane" Chris said, helpfully. That clinched it. One nervous step forwards and gravity took over- too late to back out as I splashed down into the water and came up more than a little apprehensive. my breathing must have been fast, or unsteady, because the next minute Chris was in with me and had me inflate the BCD fully. On her order I spent five minutes lying on my back just breathing...nothing more- just breathing- in order to regain my confidence. I was lying there, I wasn't going anywhere- I was quite safe.

Thus began the skill tests. I'd managed the first one on the try dive- taking the regulator out of my mouth, continuously exhaling a stream of bubbles, and putting it back in again. Now the skills became more involved, and there are too many to go into here and I'll probably get the sequence wrong, but I'll try and describe some of the skills I learned. Signaling out of air and breathing from an alternate air source were easier than I thought, as was snorkeling whilst changing from regulator to snorkel, but the bane of my life came with the mask clearing drills.

This is the theory- at some point you may lose your mask, have to replace it, and so on. These drills are designed to help a diver clear their mask whilst submerged. Some divers open their eyes whilst doing this. In my current state, that wasn't an option.

Clearing a half filled mask- pull back, fill to below the eyes, push the top rim into your head, look down, exhale through your nose whilst tilting head back and the air pushes the water out.

First one, easy.

Clearing a full mask- repeat as before- more difficult, but still do-able.

Taking the mask off. Okay, this was a 'fill your mask then take it off' skill- and boy, did I come apart in this one! As soon as the mask was off, I breathed in water through my nose. Cue panic, thrashing, and instant surface. Luckily I was at the shallow end.

Breathe. Calm. Slow the heart rate. You can do this- all things going through my mind. With the mask on, I went again.

And failed.

By the fourth failure I was getting angry. Surfacing in a panic, striking the water and saying "Again" so quickly I was ready to go back down there and re-engage this particular skill that eluded me. I got so angry that Chris actually stopped me and said that I wasn't in the right frame of mind- just calm, breathe, and go again in a few seconds.

After about the seventh or eighth time, I finally did it. One large overdue smile and I knew this could be done- but success wasn't enough. I wanted to do it again, immediately, to prove to myself I could do this.

Time was running out in the evening and I had only just passed this skill but one more test remained- flood the mask, take it off, and breathe from a regulator for thirty seconds without a mask.

First time- mask off, lost it. Spluttering, fearful, nervous- was there any way I was going to be able to do this? Every time I tried to breathe, water flooded my nose. I suppose I'm so used to yoga that breathing through the nose was a natural instinct. Just as with the mask replacement, keeping the air out long enough for that test was manageable, but breathing for thirty seconds?

Chris took me up even as I snorted water- it's a nice touch if your dive instructors recognize you're about to breathe liquid before you actually do. Standing in the shallow end, she had me lean into the water and try breathing without a mask from that position. After a few attempts, I finally did it- just by clenching the nostrils, I could shut out the water.

Back down to the test. Less fear and more determination now- this was different. Fear of drowning and failure was being overtaken by a determination to succeed, to take this skill and conquer it...

And on the second attempt, it worked. Chris and Ralph were all smiles and handshakes but inside I didn't feel it. The lesson was harder than I realized, more challenging and difficult than I could have believed. Another problem with fear lies in the levels to which we drive ourselves to conquer it. Sometimes, only perfection will do and falling short of a perfect success erodes our confidence with the awful thought of "yes, I did it, but I could have done better"

Even worse, I hadn't enjoyed the lesson. It was a lot of hard work, and whilst I was still going to continue, I beat myself all the way home with a very large mental stick.

If I was going to beat this fear, I would have to work harder. Even as part of me knew that was the wrong attitude to take, it was what I felt- it was part of me. A set back within a leap forward. A self appointed challenge to be beaten.

The try dive- part two

That's it on the right. The pool. Place of my dread, (though not any more) and my first try dive.

I last left you (picture if you will) watching me stood chest deep in water (I'm 5'11" so it comes to just around my rib cage) wearing everything to go diving in. Everyone else is in cool black wet suits or shorties (that's a one piece wet suit that goes from t-shirt length to mid thigh- keep you warm in the water, but they're a bugger to get off!) and I'm in a big thick t shirt and shorts.

So much for appearance, but I'm not doing this to win any fashion awards.

"never hold your breath" she says, and I'm not. Breathing through the regulator (the black mouthpiece on the BCD) is strange at first- the air is normal 'air', that standard 21% / 79% mix of oxygen and nitrogen we breathe every day of our lives.

The air is also dry, and cool. It's just like breathing normally. Another weird phrase- breathing normally. I'm about to dunk my head under the water and do what I've never been able to do in my life- breathe down there.

First test- bending over (don't get any ideas of innuendo) and putting my face into the water whilst breathing through the regulator.

This is strange, turbulent, and noisy. All I can hear is my own breathe bubbling out past me from the regulator and a steady stream of bubbles coming out the bottom. i can hear my own breath like I'm watching a bad science fiction movie with a guy in the space suit and they put the sound of his breathing over the soundtrack to incite tension.

At this moment, I don't need any more tension than I'm already getting!

I get a friendly "well done" from Chris and a hand shake- this proves to be the standard method of congratulations- a well done and a hand shake. if you do well, you get two hand shakes- a normal "english gentleman" one, and a "thumb to thumb" one to follow.

"Now we're going to kneel down and submerge our heads in the water" she says. I get the briefing about the signal to submerge (thumb down- its exactly like the signal used by Roman emperors of old to indicate the imminent death of a gladiator and... I'll stop now, because you know where my psyche was going with this!) and we go beneath the water.

The water is blue. It colors the white tiled floor, the walls, and everything in it. Descending beneath that surface for the first time, Chris has got hold of a shoulder strap on my BCD (I reckoned afterwards it was to hoike me up in case I panicked), and I was kneeling- fighting to get my balance because believe me, for a first time it's not easy- on the bottom of the pool with the water inches above my head.

I could do this. i could breathe. I could live. I could do what i had dreamed of doing, looked on in slight envy (not nasty envy, but the good natured kind) of others who do this thing all the time.

I was breathing, the stream of bubbles extending upwards to bounce on the surface of the water inches above me.

Then, in the middle of this, the fear hit. What if I swallowed water? What if I took the regulator out of my mouth? Like a man with vertigo perched on the edge of a building with the insane notion to leap into the void, what if I did the same thing in the pool? What if....

Fingers clicked under my gaze. Once, twice, a third time and they drew my attention upwards.

Chris has eyes you can lose yourself in. They held me and wouldn't let me go at that point. She's known me for around sixteen years and apart from my own wife, I very much doubt there's another person alive who knows me quite so well. She also knows what I do when I get scared and at that point she wasn't prepared to let me go into silent panic.

Afterwards she told me that on a rescue diver course (I think) they talk about silent panic- when someone goes internal and unresponsive instead of thrashing around. The treatment is to engage them and not let them get catatonic.

"Look at me" she said. Actually, as we were underwater, she didn't say it; but that was her gesture- in her hands, and in her eyes- "look-at-me"

And so I did- my breathing calmed, the noise steadied from an incoherent rumble of air exhaled through a regulator to a repetitive bass line, a percussion rattle of exhalation within the otherwise silent world of blue.

And then I noticed something else.

Beyond her, I could see the surface of the pool. Blue water, back lit by orange sodium lamps hanging on the ceiling- each a distorted globe through the ripples making currency of golden air bubbles upon the shifting surface.

In that moment my fear lost the battle to wonder.

Fear has to be conquered in steps. From standing, to kneeling, next came lying down. Imagine my surprise to find myself lying prone on the surface, breathing normally- still a little raggedly, but normally just the same.

She batted her hands like paddles and pointed to a corner- would I like to go for a swim? In a moment of acceptance I nodded- and in that too lies the path to overcoming fear- simple acceptance.

Acceptance you can breathe, that the equipment will keep you alive, and the person with you will stay with you all the time and not let anything happen to you. Once round the shallow end and my trepidation rose but this time, it fell just as fast. Twin sides of the same coin fought for dominance- I was breathing- but what if I swallowed water? But why should I? But what if I did? But I'm not going to.

I thought about panicking. I actually did- but you know what? I couldn't be bothered.

It's that simple. I just couldn't be bothered to feel afraid. Fear takes a small amount (or a large amount) of effort. I was alive with wonder at the thought that here's me, afraid since the age of seven, and I'm swimming underwater with a regulator. Maybe not happily, but certainly not panicking or fearful either. I was doing this!!!

We stopped at the edge of the slope to the 3m deep end. The purpose of the try dive is to 'try diving'- simple, really. It's all part of the PADI system (professional institute of diving instructors- they have other acronyms- one of Chris' is "Pay and Dive instantly", which she should charge money for) and the try dive is designed to get you into the water and experiencing the world of scuba diving.

Which is precisely what I was doing.

Looking over the edge, the vertigo came but this time in a different way- no desire to drown, to pluck the regulator out or fill my lungs with fluid- instead, I wanted to dive off- to jump in, to be down there with a yearning that filled me- I'd been scared of the deep end for too long and now, here, was a chance to go into that deep end and feel it.

And you know what they say about fear? Experience it, face it, overcome it- so I did.

We slid down the gradient to the deep end so I felt safe, equalizing the air spaces within my head by clenching my nose and blowing gently. Once down there, Chris had me doing hand stands (the cylinder banged into the back of my skull on that one!) and a barrel roll.

Exhilaration began to take over, fear began to depart, and although my trepidation would still remain, anxiety would still remain- even fear itself would still remain, I had made steps- strides, even- in just one night.

Back up to the shallows, standing up in the water, and taking the regulator out. The try dive was over, and you know what? I didn't get one gentleman's hand shake, I didn't just get the thumb grip as well- I got a huge hug and a beaming grin from this woman who dragged, cajoled, guided, gently pressurized, lead, and supported me into that pool and to the depths that night. She never let me quit, she knew I could do this, and she was right.

I'd had so much support from the rest of the dive school- instructors and members alike- from the moment I arrived to the debrief afterward (a beer and a Donner-pizza- surely the most bizarre recipe for a pizza I'd ever heard of!). Zoe, Balders, Damien, Mick, Mick, and Mick to name but a few (there's a lot of Mick's in this school-change your name if you're thinking of going diving because it seems to be the name of choice).

Fear can be beaten. I proved it to myself, but it has to be said that fear itself is like life. It's a road, a journey- sometimes the road is straight, sometimes it turns and things come at you out of the shadows. Sometimes you can deal with it, sometimes you can't.

It's not to be scoffed at, or ignored, but nor is it to be allowed to flourish, to dominate you to the point where it rules your actions and commands your thoughts. A little fear is a good thing because overconfidence is a weakness, but too much fear stagnates the soul.

I've met many instructors in this dive school on that night. I've come to know them since and they all have their own style. They have many things in common- professionalism, care, support, ability, and talent. Their attitude to fear is also something they all share- "you'll get through it", "we'll get you through it", "take things at your own speed", "relax and trust me", "you'll be alright" and "I'm not going to let you drown":- all phrases I've heard, and all phrases that, despite my anxiety, I'm happy to say have proven my fear wrong- the instructors were right every time.

They have helped with my fear so much that I recognized the road ahead. They helped me more than they know, but ultimately the road through conquering fear is one we all have to walk alone- however, allowing others to help is an important step. There is no false modesty here, no bravado, no arrogance- sometimes you need people with you to show you the way. Sometimes they know that's what they are doing, and sometimes they just act that way because that's how they 'are'.

So after all this, am I cured from my fear of water?

Nope. I'm still afraid- but the point is this- for one night I overcame my fear, and now the fear is slightly lessened than it was before.

Because as a result of the support shown by the diving team at that club, as a result of the gentle support and strength Chris lent me, and because of my own determination to not give in, I've signed up for the open water course. This will qualify me to dive to 18m when I pass.

Conquering your fear is a journey. This one started that night. Some people travel the world and remain themselves, some travel and find they are staring at the same person at the end of the journey as they were at the beginning.

I traveled further in one night by driving up the road, putting on the scuba gear, and going in the water.

and guess what?

I'm still traveling.....

The try dive

The Try dive was at a pool in Lancashire.

The...Try ..Dive...

You'd be surprised how much fear those three words instilled in me!

However, I was determined, I was driven (literally- as Chris was behind the wheel I couldn't exactly leap out of the car on the M6!), and I was committed.

What do you take on a try dive? Yourself, would be the obvious answer. Clothes...towel...re-check the clothes...re-check the towel...re-check the- oh stuff it! Let's get on with this!

Chris picked me up from home and I went to her car like an aristocrat to the guillotine. The hung head, the steady plod to your place of execution... okay, I'm being over-dramatic, but this is thirty something years of condensed fear I'm coming to terms with in one night.

At what stage does fear kick in? It comes and goes in waves (again with the diving analogies), sometimes spreading from one location and sometimes hitting you all at once- usually that sick feeling in the stomach that churns and denies you food. You know you haven't eaten and you don't actually want to.

Anyone else would say "good for you for getting that far"- my attitude was far simpler- I wasn't going to think about it in the car- I was going to deal with the fear only, and only when I got into the water. The car wasn't going to hold any fear for me at all. The journey would be fine, it would be calm, it would be...

"If you keep hyperventilating" Chris said in her usual, patient, matter-of-fact voice as we pulled off the M6, "you'll be starving yourself of oxygen and using the dead air in your windpipe. By the time we get to the pool at nine o'clock- that's three hours away- you'll be in a right state"

Why does she have to discuss it with the same, maddeningly calm voice she might use to discuss what she was doing that evening, what soup she'd like, or what to channel to watch on the television?

I actually reckon this is her plan to deal with my fear- complete, total, under-whelmed response to my gibbering wreck in the car seat alongside.

The drive, an inexorable hour and a bit, ended at the dive shop (the club is run out of it by a guy called Mick) and at this stage I was quite prepared to be dumped and ignored, and rightly so. Chris is the senior instructor and she would have far more important instructor-organizational things to deal with than babysit someone like me- but I ended up talking to a couple of lunatics outside by the names of Gareth and Liam who addressed this fear-mountain of mine with classic northern humor- "what's the worst that could happen? You drown. Well, you'll only do that the once!" (thank-you, Liam!)

Try dives are supposed to be done in groups. Four, five, eight- I've really no idea how many you can have on a try dive, but Chris told me she was taking me solo for the night because she's proficient at dealing with reluctant divers (reluctant? That's in the Thesaurus for terrified, isn't it?)- apparently, she was being diplomatic (typical Chris word)

Pool side- first mistake- I thought I was being helpful in offloading the van only to be told afterward that someone had complained- as a try dive student I'm not allowed to handle any gear.

Cue kicking myself again.

Here's the plan for a standard try dive- you get a briefing by the poolside (that was okay), you are shown how they fit the air cylinder into the strap at the back of the BCD (Buoyancy control device- the jacket all divers wear- you look like someone from the movies for real, instead of in your imagination), and put the bits together. Air tank in the BCD, first and second stage regulator on the air tank, strap it into the BCD, lock the air hose into the BCD (you can inflate the jacket / BCD from the air tank which helps you stay on the surface without having to kick your legs too much- and let air out. It's vital for assisting in descending and ascending in the water), and collect the obligatory snorkel, mask and fins.

I'd worn as BCD once before. Chris gave me an orientation night at home a couple of weeks earlier. She'd turned up with her rig (slang term for everything she goes diving with), showed me how to put it together, and invited me to try it on / try it out- in the kitchen sink (because she couldn't fit the sink into her diving gear, we went to the sink instead of taking the sink with us)

It was at this stage Chris first met my fear. She's in the calm of my living room, showing me the BCD, the compressed air cylinder, the first and second stage regulator...and I'm displaying my usual signs. First, I go quiet. Second, I go quieter. Third, I talk in a really quiet voice because that's all I can manage until finally, she invites me to have a go.

So I'm stood there in my kitchen- t shirt, jeans, bare feet for traction and my slippers would be a health hazard, BCD et al and she fills the basin with cold water and invites me to stick my head in and breathe through the regulator.

On the first breath, water goes straight up my nose and I panicked. Yes, I'm stood there, safe in my own kitchen, leaning into a bowl of water, and I lost it.

Remember that fear thing I mentioned in a previous blog? Imagine the scariest thing you know and put yourself mentally in that place- that dark, scary, uncomfortable place where you have to confront it- and that was me.

Daft, isn't it? (stood up in my own kitchen and getting scared! I ask you! Hardly the stuff of action hero's, is it?)

You know how it is- you've been doing this since you first entered the world. About ten breaths a minute, six hundred an hour, fourteen thousand and four hundred a day, 5,256,000 a year....

We never stop to think how we breathe- we just do- so when someone says "stick your head in this basin of lukewarm water and breathe in" you're not exactly going to think about closing your nose off, are you? I finally managed this by holding my nostrils shut with my hands and then, only then, could I breathe- which resulted in a huge sigh of relief when (skip forward to try dive) I put a mask on and found it compressed my nostrils! YAY!! I didn't have to breathe through my nose at all!!!!

That was so much easier!

After the scuba mask came the fins (I have big feet, so you'd wonder why I bother. Size 11's mean I can use my own feet as fins- but I still took a pair of rubber fins because they were given to me for the duration. I've been told that calling them 'flippers' invites all kinds of forfeits ranging from smacked legs to being made to walk the plank...(or equivalent)

Finally, I was given a weight belt.

Okay, this is wierd. Here's negatively buoyant me, and they're giving me something to help me sink??? does that seem strange to you? That's like giving an anvil to a parachutist saying "well, you wanted to go down!"

Gearing up is covered in briefing, and then its time to put it on in the water- I believe some put this on at the pool side, but Chris tossed both sets into the pool at the shallow end and helped me get into it once in a standing position in the water. The rest of the dive club were about their business at the far end, and we had the shallow end pretty much to ourselves.

There I was, stood up, in flippers, shorts, t shirt, BCD, scuba mask, snorkel (wasn't using that yet!) and she gives me the golden rule of scuba diving.

Never, ever hold your breath. Holding the breath causes problems (or potential problems) when descending or ascending. Confined air spaces (ie: air in your lungs) compress and expand when under the pressure of a sub-sea environment so holding your breath isn't good.

Chris pointed out that it all came back to that simple thing we'd been doing since childhood. Breathe normally, she said- just breathe...

I was there, I was ready, it was time to go.

(part two in a minute)

inspiration and friendship

Who am I kidding? Inspiration and friendship? What about an outright refusal to let me give up???

I'm talking about this one in the picture. She's called Chris, she's my wife's best friend, she's mine too, and I've known her since I was twenty three. I couldn't think of a better person to trust my life to in this whole endeavor, to be honest.

Chris has been a scuba diver since 2002 and she's now an extremely qualified and experienced scuba diving instructor. She's also the senior instructor at a dive club- and its with this brilliant bunch of people that I'm learning to scare myself witless...sorry- dive, every week!

This started a while back and it all began with her. She's got to take the blame for this, so I'm going to lay blame where it's deserved!

Okay, not 'blame' because its unfair to her- 'Credit' is much more applicable.

If you're ever scared of something, have you ever had someone gently, slowly, gradually encourage and persuade you to face it? There you go.

"When am I going to get you in the water?" was her first line.

If you've ever been faced with the impossible- whether it's "lets go free fall bungee jumping without a chord", or "you're volunteered to sing before three thousand people and you don't have musical training", you'll know what comes next.

Question one- pick from the following excuses:

a)- maybe later
b)- I'm a bit busy at the moment
c)- when I get a second, I'll sort something out
d)- Now? Right now? Oh, gosh- is that the time? I didn't realize I had to be somewhere else...
e)- all of the above

It didn't work.

She's got this pair of dark brown eyes that see right through you, which isn't good for putting off the inevitable. Like the bait on the hook, I squirmed, twisted, turned and procrastinated only to be met with the same, patient, calm gaze and the inevitable question...

"...so, when am I getting you in the pool?"

I didn't have a chance, really.

Chris wanted me to do a try dive. Also known as the 'discover scuba experience', this is a one hour (ish) indoor swimming pool scuba dive often re-created around the world in dive centres but done in open water.

And if you'd heard half the horror stories I've heard about holiday resort dodgy dive centres and their safety records, you'd run a mile!

I know there are more good ones than bad out there, but my advice is simple-

"if you want to discover scuba diving, go to a school registered with an international dive organisation and a good safety record"

The trial dive was set for April 2nd- I was ready, Chris was ready, the dive school was ready...

I bottled it.

Whether through stress or fear, my back locked and in pain I bailed on the night but undeterred, sent a message that although I was crying off on the 2nd, I wanted to go back the week after on the 9th.

Chris, in her usual, patient, supportive self, gave an 'okay' and left it at that.

I had moved from 'would I dive?' to 'when am I going to dive'. The 'if' replaced by a foregone conclusion of the 'when'.

What was I thinking? Here I was, thirty (cough) something years after my first near-drowning experience, about to go back in the water. Sure, I'd been in more recently at the gym and had tried to swim. I sort of taught myself at 25 to badly crawl, and my breast stroke looks like a gasping frog with an uncontrollable leg spasm. I couldn't tread water (remember the sinking thing? Always been too afraid to go out of my depth to learn, and couldn't believe I could do it anyway) and couldn't float.

So why put myself through this?

Same reason as mentioned before- I was tired of being afraid. It's also hard to say 'no' to yourself when you've got a friend like Chris. I didn't want her to have the stigma of turning to her dive school and saying "hey- this is Si, a good friend of mine, and he's too scared to go in the water. I'm an experienced / qualified instructor and I can't help him"

It looks bad.

I've had a lot of support from people who know I'm doing this and they've all said the same thing- "don't worry if you're too scared and give up- the fact that you came this far is impressive enough"

Not for me.

They've all said it- my wife, Chris, my friends- all of them. It's like they're giving me an 'out' if I fail or quit.

I don't want the 'out'. I also don't want to quit. In fact, I'm not going to.

What drives a person to face an irrational fear and overcome it? In my case, I drive myself harder than anyone else can drive me. I beat myself up when I fail (happens more often than I would like), and I am tired, so very tired, of that gut wrenching, churning, cold ball of fear in my stomach. It's like an ache I want to get rid of, a needle in my eye, an itch I can't scratch.

I want rid of it. Now. Forever.

But is willpower enough? I can't just wake up like a character in a movie and say "today, I'm not going to be afraid anymore!" no matter what the self help adverts tell you. Positive thought is all well and good, but it's hard to do. For anyone whose been in that negative spiral facing the seemingly impossible, its very, very hard to do.

But it's not impossible, and when something stops being impossible, you take a step along the road. And it's more than just a road:- it's a journey, a revealing of truth, a voyage of self discovery, and each time you realise something isn't quite as impossible, the goal becomes nearer.

When you deal with your fears, distance isn't determined by geography:- it's determined by belief.

I believe I can do this.

but I'm scared- not all the time, but just when I think about it.

But I believe I can do this.

So no matter how scared I am, I'm going to keep going back to that pool until I...well, until I no longer feel afraid.

Next time, I'll tell you about the try dive.

fear of water

How many times do have I heard the usual response to this statement? I can't swim.

"But EVERYONE can swim!" is the usual response. "it's easy- just lie on your back and float- you can float, can't you???"

...no, actually, I can't.

Apparently, one in a hundred people have negative buoyancy. Let me explain- the concept of buoyancy is simple- an object is positively buoyant if it displaces a greater weight of water than its own weight. In such a case, the object floats 'on' the surface.

If an object displaces a weight in water equal to its own weight, it is considered to be 'neutrally' buoyant, and floats 'at' the surface (just a little below 'on' the surface, if you want to be pedantic)

However, if an object displaces a weight in water less than its own weight, it is considered to be 'negatively' buoyant, and it sinks.

Guess which one I am? (all muscle and bone, no fat- yup- I sink like a stone!)

You try explaining this to people who have lived in the water all their lives, gone swimming, floating, paddling, etc- and watch as a proportion of them develop a glassy eyed stare.

"you can't float? Of course you can- everyone can float- just lie back! Like me! Watch!!!"

(glug, glug...still falling...glug...)

Am i deterred? No.

Am I apprehensive?

Apprehensive of water would be the wrong term.

Let's explain using a different concept- do you like heights? Spiders? Snakes? Dark places? Ever been mugged? Ever gone into work or school knowing you are about to be told off? Ever been pulled over for speeding?

Remember the feeling? Your insides go cold. Goose bumps form on your arms. You find your breath quickens, a cold, hard knot forms in your sternum or stomach, and the thought of doing anything with that concept- whether it be heights, or spiders, etc- robs your mind of reason and all you can think of is the negative, the worst, the end...

Well, ladies and gentlemen, that's how I feel about water.

Which is why this year, I'm not only learning to swim, I'm literally jumping in at the deep end (pun intended) and learning how to scuba dive too!

Why am I doing this when I'm appre...no, scared...no, lets' get this right- terrified of water?

Because I hate being scared. That's it.

How did this start? Age seven, my junior school, took my class swimming. I, being nervous, needed a leak whilst the rest of my class did two widths. Upon returning, I was met with an "off you go, simon- do two lengths"

I nearly made one width when I lost it and sank. I remember floundering, panicking, a line of bare feet and legs of half the class dangling in the water just ahead of me. I came up spluttering- and went down again. I came up a second time and went down again- and all the while the teachers stood and watched- I remember seeing them through the water- arms folded, chatting, my class watching me as I nearly drowned. Three times I went down and just made it to the side to be told "oh- you really can't swim can you? Oh well, never mind, just swim back across to the other side..." (I only went down once on the way back before reaching the side)

This instilled from that age a life long fear of water.

But now, the tide is changing (again with the intentional puns!) because I have reached a turning point.

I was once scared of heights until I jumped out of planes with a parachute on and that put paid to that problem.

As a child I suffered from a speech disability that for nearly twenty one years denied me the chance to communicate, so I went on stage and got rid of that when I was twenty five.

This is the latest thing, and it's a biggie.

I am going to learn to dive. The group I've picked (Picked? Dragged along to?) is a very professional outfit near my home, and my best friend is the senior dive instructor.

Through this blog, I intend to publish my thoughts and experiences. If you're a non-swimmer, if you're terrified of water, or maybe you're someone who is trying to teach or encourage a non-swimmer to get in the water and do this, then I hope something I may write might be of use, encouragement or support.

Besides all that, the concept is so mind blowingly terrifying to me that I want to share the experiences I've had so far since the course began in April 09. Some have scared me, and some made me leap out of the water (not literally) with the biggest grin on my face you've ever seen.

This blog is not about being afraid- it's about taking that fear and denying it the chance to rule your life.

Si