Showing up at the first day of scuba class and not knowing what the heck is going on*, I walked into class expecting to swim. Before going, I questioned Dear Friend who had gone through the class two years prior…”No problem, just show up and be ready to scuba! You’ll have great fun!”
I walk in to find out that, not only do we not swim yet, but the first hour-plus a classroom lesson, I had homework due!
Crap. Not a good way to start.
Next thing I noticed was that there were only two students…myself and a 15-year-old who I automatically hated because he’d already done the homework…little bastard. Having only two students can be a good thing or a bad thing…
Good thing is that you get a lot of personalized attention from the instructor in helping you learn the fine art of scuba diving.
Bad thing is that you get a lot of personalized attention from the instructor in pointing out all the mistakes—including not doing your homework—in the fine art of scuba diving.
Oh well…
To make things more fun, there are two… count ‘em… two instructors in the class for the two students. Actually, the other instructor is getting his qualification to instruct on his own and has to teach classes while observed by a certificated instructor. Again, lots of personalized attention.
After going through two chapters of lessons, the instructor says, “Let’s swim!”
Now we’re talking!
We head on out to the pool where the instructor announces… “Okay, first we do 200 yards of laps and tread water for 10 minutes.” Huh?** My visions of floating peacefully underwater with scuba gear drift away like the random band aids and hair chunks left in the pool by the last group.
Now, I do like the water, but I’m not a strong swimmer. Carefully eyeing the wall to find the nearest defibrillator unit, I ask the instructor and the 15-year-old if they’ve brought books, because this will take awhile.
But, I finished the laps (“Pick an apple, put it in your pocket, pick an apple, put it in your pocket…”) without my heart or lungs exploding*** and, after noisily sucking air for a few minutes, went to the deep end of the pool to tread water. This went amazingly well since I could basically float most of the time.
Now, expecting to get my first scuba experience, I was a bit disappointed that we spent the remainder of the time learning how to snorkel… breathing through a tube sticking out of the water. But, a necessary prerequisite skill to scuba, so we made some fun out of it.
We ended up with a quick lesson on how to exit the water. The instructor taught us the “Beach the Whale” method… work up some speed and head to the side of the pool. Have enough speed that you can basically propel yourself, stomach first, onto the pool side. Yep, it did make us look a bit like Shamu at SeaWorld.
Although I had a slightly depressing day otherwise, I found myself quite exhilarated by the experience. I could see new adventures poised in front of me for the taking. I could see new and exotic places to visit. I could see my pocketbook dwindling. But…
This is going to be fun!
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*actually, of late, a too common definition of my mental state
**confronting Dear Friend on this oversight of sharing knowledge on what to expect, I merely got a wicked chuckle from her and a “Oh, yeah, forgot to mention that…”. Paybacks, Dear Friend, paybacks…
***and, amazingly, only a half lap behind the 15-year-old… I rock! (as in “…sink like a…”)
The Wilds of Ohio 