It’s very easy to assume we’re diving safely. For example, I’ve had the same gear for 16 years. I know exactly where everything is and how it works. I know what dangles where; what goes in which pocket; and what needs to be tweaked just so. I usually dive with my dad, and we’ve devised an excellent dive-buddy relationship, whereby we know what the other likes, dislikes, expects, and gets bored with, so we feel very comfortable diving with each other. But, although we perform a gear check before each dive, it’s possible that it is our comfort level that could be our undoing.Yesterday, I posted about diving Valhalla Missile Silo, a 130-foot-deep former missile silo in
However, I just finished reading a very disturbing story about a dive in the silo. In it, the author, an advanced diver, and his buddy decide to dive the silo, and – largely due to his exceedingly high, yet misplaced, comfort level – had an experience that nearly killed him. The writer accepts full responsibility for the incident, admitting that, on this particularly tricky dive he (a) used a cheap, unbalanced reg; (b) tested new gear; (c) lost contact with his dive buddy; (d) forgot his signs; (e) did not plan a dive; and (f) did not dive a plan. He was over-comfortable with his skill and ability, and he nearly died. Pride, as they say, cometh before the fall (a rule that every reality show contestant who did NOT win has forgotten immediately prior to their expulsion).
Anyway, it’s easy for us to assume that we remember perfectly our dive skills and are familiar with our dive gear. Further, since we have been on hundreds (or even thousands) of dives, we trust there’s no chance of a problem. However, it’s impossible to control all the variables that go into an easy dive, not to mention a technical dive. When his primary gave out, the author in this story forgot to reach for his octopus, which seems like the world’s most obvious solution. As an experienced diver, he shouldn’t’ve forgotten that. But he did.
The author claims he’s telling his “embarrassing” story to remind other divers of the importance of smart diving. Smart diving means being ultra-prepared and completely aware of everything going on around you, because no matter how much time you spend preparing, you never really know how you’ll react to a particular situation until you find yourself in it. Panic is a crippling beast. Consequently:
Review your skills, including your underwater signals.
Check your gear. Twice.
Check your buddy's gear.
Follow an agreed-upon dive plan.
Don’t test new gear on a technically demanding dive.
Listen to the dive briefing.
Look around you.
Keep your buddy in sight.
I bet you’re thinking, “Oh, Dude, I know all this.” And you probably do. But in the excitement of a new dive, with some special gear, on a cool boat, on the water, it’s easy to forget just a little something and panic. Knowing how to dive smart and diving smart are entirely different.
I don’t like writing posts about divers that go missing or die on trips. Please help me not to have to write many more.
[Thanks, Drew!]
1. Well said -- I coudn't agree with you more. I do most of my diving with a buddy, and in most of those cases, we are both shooting video or stills, which means that we're not exactly keeping a close eye on each other during the dive. I personally know that it's very easy to get complacent, especially when you've gained some good experience, or are very familiar with a site and your gear configuration. I feel lucky that I haven't encountered any bad situations underwater, but I do believe that it's only a matter of time, and I hope that I won't panic, but how would you know that in advance? Yes, I hope that I would calmly reach for my secondary if my primary malfunctioned, but I can't know that for sure until it happens. One thing I find useful in challenging conditions is to visualize the dive before I jump in: I mentally go over the plan, my gear, my buddy's gear (on the off chance that we stay together) and I try to settle my mind and be focused when I enter the water. Sometimes in easy conditions, or if there's not a lot happening on a particular dive, I take the time to rehearse some skills - I've been known to surprise my buddy with an out of air drill, grabbing the regulator from his mouth if he doesn't respond immediately. I totally agree that complacency is a factor in many dive accidents, and that paying attention is one of the most important things we need to do before, during, and after a dive.
Posted at 12:51PM on Oct 11th 2005 by Anat Grant