Diving in Picton -- Wetsuits are the "togs" of the devil

So let’s see, when last I left you, I was in Christchurch diligently working on my essay and enjoying the gentle swaying of the earth (felt a second little earthquake my last morning in the city).

Last Thursday (the 4^th) I hopped in with a very nice Spanish girl who was driving up to Picton.  It was a six-hour drive, but the time went by quickly, thanks to her good company.  We stopped once along the way in Gore Bay to have lunch on the beach. 

Lunch stop between Chch and Picton.

Where I am.

I would have preferred a slow ascent of the South Island, spreading the journey over many days, but I was in a bit of rush to make Picton, since on Friday I started my Open Water scuba diving course. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for years, so I was very happy to finally get ‘er done.

The course was really rather informal. I spent two days in the classroom one-on-one with my instructor Brett.  Mainly, I read the manual, watched two DVDs and we did a few skills in the pool – clearing water out of your mask, what to do if your regulator (the thing you breath from) gets knocked out of your mouth, etc. I’d been diving before, and am really comfortable in the water, so it wasn’t very difficult.

More difficult were the actual dives.  Not because of the skills. Not because of the waves.  Not because of the added pressure of 12 feet of water. What made them difficult was the bloody cold.  In the South Island, the water doesn’t get all that hot, especially this early in the season.  It was a frosty 13 degrees down there.  So out came the wetsuits.  And the booties. And the hood.  And the gloves.  And still I was shivering. There are now about a dozen kiwis who think that Canadians are soft when it comes to cold.  Sorry Canucks. I didn’t represent.

Frozen divers in Picton. I was soon among their ranks.

I did the dives with a group of students who had been doing the classroom and pool stuff over the course of a few weeks.  I had visions of bonding with my fellow novice divers over the shared experiences.  Maybe heading out for a beer after the dives.  Alas, the others were all air force cadets who knew each other. 

There were some pros and cons to spending two days diving with that particular group.

Pro: they were young, strapping boys who filled out their wetsuits quite well.

Con: I was all the more aware of how I filled out my wetsuit.  Those things are mighty unforgiving.

Pro: they were spry and strong, and helped me carry my gear down and up the steep track to the water.

Con: I needed their help to carry the gear. I felt weak and uncoordinated.

Pro: they were a lot of fun and the atmosphere was friendly and light.

Con: I wasn’t really a part of that fun.  I really was more of an observer.  It’s always the case with a big group though.  Had I been younger, or male, or kiwi, I might have been able to break into the group a bit, but really, with all that stacked against me, I didn’t really care to try too much.

In any case.  I’m certified!  I can now dive on my own (with a buddy, of course).  So hopefully I’ll get out a few times over the coming months.  I just need to make a bit of money first. L

Next up: Why my toes are gone and why they’ve been replaced by then blister-mounds.