Dive Log

Up until that moment my relationship with diving had been a long standing one, it started in the late 60's hiring a steel tank with a J valve and a regulator, I had to catch the bus into town to go get my tank as I wasn't even close to driving yet. I'd make sure I was at home when Sea Hunt was on TV, Mike was my hero, I'd go spastic when Cousteau was on, I loved the way he pronounced grouper, I would suck every last molecule of air out of my steel tank and then reluctantly surface. Many years passed and I did many dives and trips, mostly diving in the sea but also a few in rivers and dams, mostly in Australia but some overseas as well. In some of the phases of my life there was lots of diving, great trips, great friends, in other phases there was less or no diving at all but the diving bug was always there. 

Until that moment on the verandah at the back of Barry's dive shop watching the spacemen, I had never breathed anything other than air. I was bored and empty at the time, looking for a new challenge, looking at the spacemen I started to realize what I'd be doing for the next few years, my dive bug relaxed a little, it being satisfied that it didn't need to gnaw at me any more. Barry's smile happened to coincide with the sound of a cash register when I pointed to the spacemen and asked "what the . . ". My certification level at the time was Rescue, perfect said Baz, sign here for your Deco Course, you'll need twins and a sling tank, your first theory is next Saturday afternoon, here are your course notes, I want you to know this stuff backwards and inside out.  

Several evenings in my workshop later I had cobbled together two old aluminium tanks, independently rigged, a wing from the junk box of another dive shop, an old plastic back pack and some webbing with lots of D rings on it, you can never have enough D rings. My 3L bottle that I used as bailout on my hookah rig would serve nicely as my deco sling until such time as the deco times required a bigger sling. Baz stood looking at my rig for some time, mumbling mostly words that don't often get printed in DiveLog and something about an explosion in a rubber tube factory. But the theory was learned and practiced in shallow water, the zero viz dives completed, my rig now had no hoses or bits sticking out, I was able to swim within 10m of a wreck and not get tangled, I even sprayed one of the tanks so it was the same colour as the other one.

It was one of those appointed days and it arrived, I was to do my first proper planned deco dive out on Long Reef, I was excited, a whole new phase in my diving was about to begin. I had of course over the years done some deco diving but not on twins and not using something other than air to deco on, and sometimes not planned either. All the other divers on that first trip were spacemen, they were snickering and pointing at me, I wondered why, my tanks were the same colour, I had enough D rings to sink a battleship. My first proper deco dive was completed, I had remembered to switch from one tank to the other at different times, I followed my tables, I stopped at the right depth for the right amount of time, I switched at the right depth to my sling which Baz had filled with Nitrox 40 for me. The Nitrox tasted metallic, I was a bit worried about that as I didn't know that Nitrox 40 tasted metallic, it doesn't seem to taste that way anymore though.

Getting out of the water after that first dive I felt like a million dollars, it was great, someone took a photo of me, it's on my wall. That dive was also done in a wetsuit, in the middle of winter, it was cold down there, I came back with two belly buttons instead of one, I understood some of the snickering and pointing now. Not being shy of a bit of cold however I persisted and did many more dives like that first one. After one such dive however that I had stretched a bit and ended up sucking out every last molecule of gas like in the good old days, I was that cold that I started to become a hypothermic, couldn't control my shivering, started to loose it a bit, Baz wrapped me up in his old wet weather jacket mumbling more words not often printed in DiveLog but with the words dry suit in there somewhere.           

I got to know some of the spacemen, they got to know me, they kept reassuring me that I too would soon be a spaceman, I doubted it as you need some serious money to be a spaceman, it didn't take too long though to realize they were right. I was measured up for my first dry suit, it duly arrived and I've only had one belly button since. Right on cue, a second hand Classic Inspiration arrived at Barry's shop, it had nice new handsets, Baz had serviced it and when my eyes glazed over looking at it, he changed the lungs and harness over to size Large and removed the For Sale sticker. I was beside myself, couldn't believe that I would soon be a spaceman.

First was the theory though, you can learn as much as you want about rebreathers but you must at least learn the basics, pull the thing apart, put it back together, load the sorb canister properly, do the positive and negative pressure tests, learn how the handsets operate and what they are telling you. My first dive on my Inspo was just magic, no noise, just me breathing, the first thing I came up against and tried to swim over by breathing in, I crashed into. I learned what to do if the thing didn't want to work properly, essential knowledge as rebreathers are far from bullet proof, they do at times try to bite you, so you must stay one step ahead of it when things don't go right.

There were many training dives on my Inspo, with the ever present Baz hovering just above me, watching. I also did some training by myself in the shallow waters of Middle Harbour adjacent to Barry's dive shop. On one such dive I was gliding smoothly along just an inch above the bottom, completely exhilarating in my new way to dive. The Numb Ray didn't share my feelings however and it shot out from under me knocking out my mouthpiece, my mask came off and it zapped me on the face. From serenity one second to blind terror the next. But soon enough I was a qualified Level 1 spaceman, now gliding smoothly well above the bottom, only allowed to use air as my diluent but I was enjoying myself immensely.

My Inspo and me turned up at the dive shop weekend after weekend, you need to do some serious hours on air before being allowed to move on to Level 2, Normoxic Trimix, same old 21% Oxygen but with some Helium in with the Nitrogen. When you do your first dives on Normoxic it's then that you realize how narced you are at 50m whether you think you are or not, I did the same dive twice, once on air and again the next day on 21/35, it's not hard to feel the difference half the Nitrogen has on you at 50m. The weekends went by one after the other, some weekends were cold and miserable, sometimes it was rough and you wonder why you got out of a nice warm bed to be there. But my logbook got very fat, I had to put extra pages in it, my Inspo and me were becoming good friends. It did try to bite me a few times, once it was sounding it's alarm because of a particular problem, I understood what it was saying and decided to continue the dive but of course as Sod's Law dictates, another problem occurred which I ignored thinking it was just beeping about the first problem. I've learned now, never ignore anything, no matter how minor it appears to be at the time.

About this time I started to hear about Sydney Project, some of the spacemen were members and I eventually joined them. I couldn't do the diving they were doing yet but I did go on their trips and do support, being handy I also became their equipment officer. I was rather in awe of these guys, they were doing 125m dives at the time, it inspired me greatly and gave me the strength and motivation to get my hours and experience levels to the point where I could tackle Level 3 or Hypoxic Trimix and break the 50m barrier. I saw doing support for Project as a kind of apprenticeship, I wanted to know how things worked before I got to be a bottom diver myself. The Project spacemen were always grateful, doing deep dives can sometimes be arduous but good support makes it just that little bit easier not to mention a whole lot safer. I rather enjoyed all aspects of trips away, the driving through the countryside, going out on the charter boats, the group dinners and barbecues, sharing the highs and lows of when dives go well or don't.  

Some two years had now gone by and I had averaged at least one deco dive per week, I had also got to the point where I could start my Level 3 or Hypoxic Trimix training. This is when you use just the right amount of Oxygen for the depth you are diving, set the amount of Nitrogen such that it has the same narcosis effect as diving to 20 or 30 meters, the rest of the mix being Helium. I did more theory and more practice dives, diving to 70m or so, I now had my Inspo on my back and a sling tank on each side, I make rude little noises when trying to stand up with all the gear on. On top of the local scene I also did a trip to the South China Sea and the Gulf of Thailand. I am logging up lots of hours on Trimix now, some are long dives to over 3 hours. There were a few more incidents but I managed them reasonably well, I find it somewhat disconcerting how a number of factors can combine to ruin your day, it also makes you realize that you never know it all and you must never think that you do.  

Again one of those appointed days arrived and I'm standing on the back of a fishing boat off Bermagui about to do my first dive to 100m.  The prevailing circumstances at the time dictated that I do the decent alone although there are others ahead of me. Midway down I stop for a brief minute, apart from the shot line it is blue in every direction, a shade darker downwards than upwards, it's not hard to see the parallel to being in space, it's just a lot wetter and if you scream it comes out all girly because of the Helium. I land on the bottom near the stern of the wreck and check my instruments, the water is so clear I can see kids playing in the shallows in Fiji. Some of the guys dive in pairs and some always dive alone, I'm happy either way and on this occasion prove to myself that I don't get spooked easily. I see the huge stern of the wreck, the huge rudder and a propeller, my mind is just boggling at everything. I'm very pleased that I feel just fine, some divers get to this depth and it doesn't agree with them, I seem to be one of the lucky ones.

I see two of the others and swim between the rudder and prop to say hello. I stay with these two for a bit longer and decide to ascend with them also as I am happy to have done what I've done so far as my first deepie. One of them takes a photo of me swimming with the wreck in the background, another one of those pictures that ended up on my wall. Overall, this dive was deemed a failure by the other spacemen because upon checking my VR3 I had only got to 99.3m, they ribbed me mercilessly. I've since completed a few more deep dives, the deepest and longest being to 125m with a run time of some 210 minutes with an actual time spent on the bottom of less than 10 minutes. People say to me why would you go through all that just for 10 minutes on the bottom? In the middle of a long deco I ask myself that same question but as soon as the next dive is announced there I am tongue out and tail wagging, impatient for the day to arrive.

People also ask me is it dangerous? My answer is that all diving is dangerous, some argue that using rebreather technology compounds the danger and most would agree that diving deep definitely compounds the danger. With deep diving there is no room at all for complacency, there is no room for mistakes, there is also no room for egos or the must get there mentality. A deep diver must know at all times that their equipment and their head are functioning normally, failure to heed even the smallest warning can produce dire consequences. We recently lost a member of our group on a deep dive, it will always tear me up how a simple mistake can take the life of a diver without the diver even knowing much about it. It has happened many times before and will no doubt happen again, we can only but try to learn from what has happened. Much was written about this accident at the time, some of it by people much more learned than myself, I certainly saw elements of truth in some of what was written but I believe the reasons for this particular accident stemmed from a simple error and was then further compounded by several physiological and psychological aspects.

People also ask me will we go deeper? Of course we will but if we define a wreck dive as a dive with a 20 minute bottom time then a 150m wreck dive currently presents a formidable barrier. 20 minutes at 150m will obligate a diver to some 6 hours or so of decompression, it wouldn't be a long list of people who have accomplished it. Such a dive is on or outside the limit of most current rebreathers, it is not possible to carry enough bail out gas in the event of a rebreather failure at the worst possible time at that depth. A diver would have to pin his life on there being a redundant rebreather and/or being near a buddy (or two) and/or a lot of staged gas on the shot line. For the immediate future, with the current technology, the logistics of such a dive will ensure their scarcity. 

The Sydney Project is a technical diving club that welcomes new members, so if you’re interested in joining or just keeping up with our activities, then check out our website at www.sydneyproject.com