THE REALLY GREAT BARRIER REEF

Oh my goodness! Oh my double goodness! Beauty! Brilliant! Sheesh, I can’t find a word awesome enough to describe THE GREAT BARRIER REEF!

It takes almost two hours to get to the reef during which time we were given a typical Aussie breakfast (bacon and egg roll), briefed to death, and given the opportunity to sign up for an introductory dive. I wasn’t so sure about doing the dive, but it was free so you just have to give it a go. Eric and I were assigned to Dive Group 4 which meant we had time to snorkel a little first. I had serious issues with my mask leaking and was still fighting that problem when our group’s number came up. I had enough trepidation about scuba diving that the mask issues just about sent me over the edge. I didn’t want to look like a chicken, er chook, though, so I swallowed down my fear (and some salt water) and took my place.

I let them put all the gear on me and the next thing I know Eric and I were in the water trying desperately to remember all the instructions for clearing the mask and regulator and equalizing – not to mention the hand signals. I think I only retained two of them – "okay" and especially "not okay".

The dive instructor got me down a few feet and I was still gamely clearing my mask of water as best I could. I was starting to think this was maybe doable in spite of the leaky face mask. Quite unfortunately, there was more than one leak. The other leak was my head and some of the instructions were now lost at sea.

Clearing the regulator requires you to take a breath in from the regulator, take the regulator out of your mouth, do a little pbtt like a raspberry, then put it back in your mouth and say “two” really loud and semi-violently through the regulator. Not terribly complicated unless you forget step one and go straight to step two which is that leak I was talking about. Talk about a panic! I did a little pbtt and then realized there was nothing left in the lungs because I hadn’t put anything in them. In that brief moment I went, “uh oh, must breathe in, can’t breathe in, ack!” The ensuing panic included a surface assessment (as in how far is it and can I get there if I bolt for it right now), drowning, not wanting to drown, and then quite belatedly, “oh, put the regulator back in your mouth and breathe you idiot!”

I must admit I was pretty spooked at this point. I found out later Eric did the very same thing (forget step one) although his description of his predicament didn’t seem quite as panicked as mine. Our dive instructor took us down soon after that. I’m really not sure how she thought I was okay to go as my wild eyes had to be a dead giveaway that I was not teeming with confidence (now there’s a classic Aussie understatement for ya!).

She had to pretty much pull me (and Eric, too) down as we both seemed to start floating upwards whenever she let go. Apparently she’s done a lot of dives with people who are just one small step from losing every ounce of courage they’ve mustered. That meant she was willing to hold my hand just about the whole time – what can I say, nine meters down is a long way!

After I finally realized I probably wasn’t going to die, I managed to start enjoying the totally amazing view down there! Such awesome critters, completely amazing coral, ridiculously sized clams, and a husband who had his wetsuit halfway zipped down. What?!

Now that was a puzzle. No bling had appeared around his neck so I was pretty confident that being 9 meters down hadn’t suddenly caused a mid-life crisis. It wasn’t exactly hot down there so it couldn’t be that. I realized I was going to have to abandon solving this oddity as I just didn’t have the spare capacity to think on it. Funny how breathing, clearing one’s mask, and equalizing your ears can be pretty doggone all-consuming thoughts at that depth.

We got to dive for about 15 minutes and in that time we saw so much stuff it was just plain overwhelming. Truth be told, I was a little relieved to be back at the surface because even though I was starting to relax a bit, I was still pretty wrung out from the beginning terrors. They had us climb out of the water and I was stunned at how heavy that tank was on my back. I struggled up the 3 or 4 steps and was dang thankful I had just enough strength to make it. Then the guy pointed up the next set of stairs and said, “Go on up there and they’ll take the equipment off”. For a brief moment, I thought I was going to have to play the charming Granny card and get some help because I wasn’t sure I had it in me to get up that next flight. But I knew the self-recriminations later would not be pleasant so I did it (yes, it was feebly slow and pathetic, but I’ll mentally rewrite that part later).

As it turns out, Eric was not having a mid-life crisis or hot flashes (that would be my department anyway), he just had a wetsuit zipper that was determined to unzip itself at any and every opportunity. We got to snorkel the rest of the afternoon and see even more way cool fish and reef until I had prune fingers to the max. I thought that was going to be my only temporary souvenir, but I discovered later the leaking problems had started long before I got in the water. Missing putting the sunscreen on the back of your legs is really a bad idea.

Next on the agenda is seeing crocs. I don’t think I’ll be swimming for that experience.