Koh Tao II

I was sad to leave our little class of divers. Not only was I not with Magda but I also missed our Austrian friends Mike and Carol, and of course, the Irish, Jonathan and James. Jonathan's expression of regret that I hadn't been certified along with them made me realize how sorry I was as well. I told him at the New Year's party that I'd let him know when I did finish the course.

"you don' have t'" he said in his strong Gallwayan brogue, "Because I know ye'll finish."

One of the two best divers in Gallway

Was that a tear at the corner of my eye? I doubt it, but there was such strong sincerity in his look that I believed him. Only then did I think that yes, I might actually finish the course.

Unfortunately, Jon did not get a chance to start his advanced course. On the morning after the party he wiped out on his scooter, broke his foot, and had to be sent to the hospital on Koh Samui. James told us the bad news as he was signing up alone for his night diving course, one of five dive skills that qualifies you as an advanced diver. I really hope Jonathan gets well, no sorry, I know he will, just like I know he'll eventually become one of the two best divers in Gallway.

I retook the first open water dive and breezed through open water 2, the dive I had to bail out on two days earlier. My new group was small, consisting of myself and two women, one English and the other Dutch. The Dutch woman had almost dropped out the day before, but we had run into her at the new years party and Jon and I convinced her that if we two had conquered our diving problems than she surely could too. I think the clincher came when Jonathan told her he couldn't swim, but was already moving onto the advanced course. That should be enough to convince just about anyone that diving is for them.

Her problem, she said, was that she was clumsy. Nonsense! Said I and regretted it for the next two days. Not only was she indeed a bit clumsy but she had a sort of nack for the absurd. She had a tall, slight frame. The expression she wore was that of having understood your statement but not really agreeing to it. I easily forgave her her nervousness, but found it harder to get past some of the things that nervousness made her do.

Our instructor was a Frenchman named Alain. I was initially concerned because he had long blond hair and sported a dive-knife as well as three gold chains that flashed against very tan skin. But he turned out to be patient and kind, though the Dutch woman, who we will call Annika, constantly pushed him to his limits. All of my first class suited up to dive at about the same speed. Wet suit, weight belt, then BCD vest and tank and finally fins. Annika put her fins on first which would make it very hard to walk around and even harder to get your legs into the wetsuit. When she did put on her wetsuit she looked like a banana trying to re-peel itself, squirming and squeezing and wiggling around the deck. We waited for her, slow cooking in our black neoprene.

Our dives together all had some slapstick episode involving poor Annika. Alain mostly kept his cool, even once when she accidentally floated to the surface like a runaway carnival balloon. Each time Alain tried to calmly explain to her her errors while she looked back at him like she didn't really agree.

Our third dive was to be out in the ocean, real open water. I was a little more nervous than I had been since previously we'd been diving it sheltered coves. Alain enticed us with the suggestion that we might see some very interesting sea life. Groupers, eels, sting rays, and if we were really lucky: he made a complicated hand signal that ended with an open hand to the middle of his forehead, like a dorsal fin.

"Now if you guessed, don't say it because then it will swim away before we get there."

Annika looked dubious and thoughtful. "What do you mean? Do it one more time."

"Okay but if you guess it keep it to yourself because if not we never will see this thing." he said repeating the hand signals.

I figured he meant a shark, the most famous dorsal finned fish. But I wasn't going to be the one who....

"you mean a shark?" asked Annika.

Everybody cringed. Despite the fact that it was just a bit of fun, building up excitement for the dive, it was clear that Alain wanted to throw her off the boat to meet the thing face to face.

"It's gone," he said, actually looking dissappointed, and a little tired, "It is swimming away."

Annika looked puzzled, as if she wanted to know where it was going.

We did not see a shark on the dive. On the next dive it was my turn to be thick. We needed to make a controlled emergency ascent, where you slowly let the air out of your lungs while swimming calmly to the surface. Ideally you should have breath left over when you arrive. At five meters down Alain gave me the thumbs up sign, meaning, go up, and I burbled and gasped and kicked like a man in an emergency ascent situation. Precisely not what I was supposed to do. As Alain explained why I was such a dope, I tried to look like I agreed.

Meanwhile, Magda, Mike and Carol had signed up for the optional 'fun dive' you can take after you've gotten your certification. They were on the same boat as my class so we sort of dove together one last time. Their dive master was a guy named Chill, who was anything but. In fact we decided it must be an ironic name, like red haired girls called 'Bluey' in Australia. When Magda began the dive, she had 180 bars, or units of air. Usually you are given about 200, but no big deal, though she was starting at 20 bar less than her diving partners. The dive was deep, about 18 meters, so the air went fast. Magda was the first to hit 50 bar, at which point the dive is over for all divers, 50 being the minimum you can be under and feel safe with. Chill was annoyed. Magda asked why her air had gone so quickly and Chill replied bluntly that she moved her arms too much, using more energy and thus, more air. He made no comment on the fact that everyone else used had about 70 bar at the end of the dive, the same amount more than her than they had all started with. It isn't the first time I've met someone with a wildly inapproriate nick-name. At the end he signed her log book with "instructor" box checked, though it wasn't a class and as far as I know, Chill isn't allowed to instruct. Too hyper.

At the end of the day I got my certificate. Mike, Carole, James and Magda were all there with congratulations and we celebrated again by getting lunch on the beach and drinking my first beer in days (alchohol is bad for us folks with ear troubles). And of course we raised a glass to the absent Jonathan who had helped inspire me (and Annika) to see it through.