A Woman Scorned

I hope you will all forgive me today if I take break from diving matters and write about something a little closer to heart.  For some reason, over the last few days, the same issue has been cropping up with my female friends - that sickening, gut-wrenching feeling you get when you find out your man has someone else, or isn't the person you thought he was.  It is a sad state of affairs that women truly are our own worst enemy - when a man chases after us we lose all interest, but the minute someone else is playing with our toy, we want it back.  What is that innate instinct that makes us like this?  Is it hormonal, or biological, that if another female is finding the male sexually acceptable, then automatically you can see what is attractive about them too?  And how many times have you found an amazing guy, only to discover that someone else found them first?  Are you fed up of being second choice, or of being abandoned because you were 'moving too fast', only for him to get married to the next girl he meets? 

I want to help my friends, to reassure them that all will be well, that there is a pot of gold at the end of that rainbow; but I'm not convinced, I can't make that conviction when I'm not 100% sure can I?  Nothing worse than a hypocrite.  I've been there though, god knows, more than my fair share of times, and for whatever reason, I've spent a lot of my dating life as 'the other woman'.  Don't for a minute think that I'm proud of this, because trust me when I say it shames me to my very soul, but I'm hoping that maybe amongst all the crap, there is a shining beacon of light for another woman out there who has gone through the same things that I have.

Recently I have started receiving emails from an ex I knew back in Bahrain.  He was third in a line of disastrous relationships that happened extremely close together and damn near ruined me in a very short space of time.  Each relationship was short-lived, but intense, and each one taught me something about myself, and made me promise to myself that I would never be anyone's second choice again.  These three guys, let's call them Teddy Bear, Cleveland and Paddy, broke me and re-made me a little harder and a little wiser (at least when it comes to relationships, but I am still blonde), and prepared me for something I had no idea I was looking for - COMMITMENT!! Dum dum duhhhhhhh. 

 

Teddy Bear happened fairly soon after I arrived back in Bahrain after my first time in the Maldives - he was tall, slim, big brown eyes and seemed quiet and gentle.  We never really went on dates but spent time together at his or my house, and the inevitable happened.  He told a few porky-pies at first, but it's difficult to maintain a lie about not having a family when you have a giant teddy bear with your daughter's name and date of birth tattooed on your chest.  He told me he was separated from his wife, things weren't working, divorce was imminent, blah blah, and stupidly I went along with it.  He was sweet and kind, and we were together all the time.  His best friend, Cleveland, lived on the naval base, and spent most of his time at Teddy's flat, so that became the hang out joint.  We broke up after about 2 months, I forget why, and Cleveland conspired to get the two of us back together because the group dynamic just wasn't the same.  We struggled through another 6 weeks or so, and then his time was up and he left back to the States.  I was upset, of course, but had no expectations, so the email from his wife came as a surprise a few days later.  Apparently, in a fit of honesty or stupidity, dear sweet little Teddy had spilled the beans, and what a shock, the marriage wasn't on the rocks at all, but strong as ever, and here I was, being harangued as a home-wrecker.

 

For a couple of weeks I kept myself to myself, despite Cleveland's begging me to hang out with him - we were both bored and lonely after Teddy left, but it wasn't the same.  He moved out of the base and into an apartment, and invited me round to check the place out.  Cleveland was the complete opposite of his friend - shorter, quite round, but extremely quick-minded and intelligent, and could make me laugh until my belly hurt.  I went round to the flat, drinks happened, as did other things, and before I could blink we were a couple.  We were more than a couple, we were inseparable, joined at the hip.  We never went out because we didn't need anyone else - we were lovers and best friends, we made plans, we drank, we went to the gym together, and we bbq'd on the roof.  Then things started getting a little strange - we still never went out, but when I suggested it the idea was quickly rebuffed because he didn't want other men looking at me.  If I went out without him, I would receive messages demanding to know where I was and who I was with.  If we didn't have sex for a day, I was scathingly asked who else I was sleeping with.  He became verbally abusive, calling me a whore and telling me I was fat, and the threat of physical violence was there - once he got so pissed off he punched through the windshield of his truck.  After about 4 months we broke up because he was being too paranoid, and I was heartbroken.  During the few weeks we were apart we kept in touch and he seemed to be back to his old self, so we gave it another try.  Big mistake.  Halfway through a brunch with friends, he messaged to say that he had gone onto my Facebook, on my laptop, and found messages from a guy I had slept with while we were broken up.  He called me all sorts of names under the sun, and then blurted out that he had been seeing a colleague behind my back pretty much the whole time.  I took some friends with me a couple of days later to pick up my stuff from his apartment because I was too scared to go in there alone, and apart from occasionally bumping into him in a bar and then walking in the opposite  direction, we had no further contact.

 

Last but not least - Paddy.  Paddy had actually been on the outskirts of our group since the beginning, and he was a chaser.  I knew he was married, he made no secret of it, and was one of the only guys to proudly wear his wedding ring.  I met him the first time in between Teddy and Cleveland, and he made his interest abundantly clear.  I mocked him and ignored him, never replied to his messages or his invitations to hang out.  He was beautiful though - California blonde hair and the most amazing blue eyes, big sparkly American teeth and enough tattoos to keep me wondering.  During my time with Cleveland I wasn't allowed to even look at other men as friends, so his communications died off, but the minute trouble began, Paddy somehow got wind and upped the stakes.  He was thoughtful and kind, messaging me several times a day offering a sympathetic ear with no strings attached.  I eventually agreed to go around to his apartment for a drink, and we ended up in a bar, and had a great time - he was attentive, pulling out chairs and listening, I mean really listening, to what I had to say.  And he never tried anything that night - I'm pretty certain I made the first move.  Amazing how jaegerbombs diminish morals. 

 

We fooled around for a few weeks and then broke up because I had to go home for Christmas, and he was married anyway, so what was the point?  I was home for 3 weeks, and it was hard - we were Skyping and calling every day, and the 'L' word was bandied about far too quickly.  When I came back to Bahrain he moved in with me, and we started making plans together.  He was going to divorce his wife and I would move to America; we would start our life together as soon as those papers were signed and nothing was going to stop us.  I would get up at 4am to drive him to work and he would bring the shopping home and walk the cat (don't ask).  We were deliriously happy, and pretending at being grown-ups.  He left at the end of January, with promises and tears, and the constant contact continued.  He was living with his wife, and she found some rather compelling evidence of his behaviour in the form of a video (again, don't ask), which to my brain was perfect opportunity to initiate the divorce.  I was on track, but Paddy seemed to be dragging his feet, and on Valentine's Day I gave him the ultimatum to shit or get off the pot.  He got off the pot and made the decision to stay with his wife, but sincerely hoped that if things didn't work out, I would still be waiting for him.  I told him to fuck off.  Sincerely.

 

He carried on emailing and sending love messages, telling me how he often thought of how different life would be if he'd made another choice.  What it boiled down to though, was that he was scared of rocking his safe little boat, and it was easier to go back to his wife than it was to make a mess.  He still emails, and has a baby due in January - now he wants reassurance from me that he will be a good father, but this I have no interest in giving him.  Paddy's days of getting reassurance and kind words from me are over.

 

I have been with Sharkboy now for nearly 8 months, and I am happier than I have ever been.  We spend most of our time, unfortunately, apart, but our feelings haven't waivered for a moment.  Not once have I thought that I'm not number 1 in his mind, and no one has come close to taking his place in mine.  Whether this will continue or fade away, we have no way of knowing, but for the time being we are both willing to put 100% into a relationship that has enormous potential.  Neither of us are attached to anyone else, as far as I'm aware, and we've taken the appropriate steps to make parental introductions in the next few months.  After that, let's see.  He is a large part of my life, but not my whole life (sorry baby!), and I believe that to be vital.  The minute we form an obsessive relationship with someone that our whole world revolves around, we are screwed.  What do you do when that person, inevitably, leaves and you are left with nothing?  Something that strong and powerful is bound to combust at some point, it's just a law of nature, and then you end up bouncing around the relationship-sphere with no one to rely on but your own broken self.

 

So here are my words of advice ladies - it is easy to love the wrong man just because he says the right things, but you need to be strong enough to sort the men from the boys.  Look out for those little signs and trust your gut instinct.  Don't carry on a relationship because 'he's not always a dick, sometimes he can be really sweet, you just don't see him like I do'.  BULLSHIT!!!!  Trust your friend's opinion, it's easier to judge a relationship from the outside than it is from the inside.  And my number 1 piece of advice that I wish I had followed all those years ago - never settle for being second best.  I refuse to be anyone's second choice, and so should you.  If a man isn't tripping over himself to be with you, then he's just straight-trippin'.

 

 

Join me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/adventuresofadivinginstructor





 

You Don't Know What You Got 'Til It's Gone

Is diving dangerous?  If I had a pound for every time I've been asked that question, I probably wouldn't be diving any more.  According to research back in the '70's, diving is 96 times more dangerous than driving a car...if you're stoned.  More up to date research has shown you're more likely to be hit by a bus than killed by a shark.  You're more likely to be hit on the head by a coconut, stung to death by killer bees, die in a plane crash or win the lottery than you are to be the victim of a diving-related fatality.  Obviously not the lottery in India or China, but maybe Birmingham or Swindon. 

If you read any article on the subject, the answer is always non-conclusive and of the same ilk - the safety of diving is dependent on the diver.  I claim bullshit on this notion!  The safety of the diver is dependent on the teaching of the instructor, so you do the maths.  Now don't for a second believe that any diver injury or fatality can be actively blamed on their instructor (and which instructor do you choose), but I do vehemently advocate the point that any flaw in the diver can be traced back to a gap in their diving education somewhere.

Take me for example - I hadn't been an instructor very long when I received my first diving injury; unless you count ripping off my toenail in the middle of my EFR course, or nearly receiving frostbite in Wraysbury Lake during my Advanced, which I don't.  I was in the middle of an extremely hectic schedule that I'd landed myself in - doing my full time job in recruitment 8am-7pm Monday-Friday, then teaching in the local swimming pool on Wednesday evening until 10pm and all day Saturday and Sunday at Wraysbury or on trips away.  I was exhausted and running myself ragged, but it was a great experience and good pocket money.  My friends never saw me, and my only relationships were disastrous ones with the occasional jobbing instructor I saw at the lake...most of whom turned out to be fruit loops or married, or both.  On this weekend in particular, I had been teaching a very yo-yo Rescue Course at the lake, and then Saturday evening I was back in the pool for a couple of even more yo-yo DSDs.  Sunday I was at the lake with the Rescue again and then Sunday evening in the pool for Open Water Confined.  You can see already that this isn't going to end well.  Neither the lake nor the pool were particularly deep, I think I was maximum 8m over the whole weekend, but the constant to-ing and fro-ing to the surface obviously shook something loose.

I remember coming back to the surface of the pool, slowly slowly, like a good girl, and feeling an extreme pressure in my right ear.  I ignored it, thinking squeezes only happened on the way down, and carried on heading up.  At one point I remember hearing a pop and a squeak of air, a feeling of relief and water rushing in, and thinking "That's going to hurt later".  I didn't tell anyone, I mean how stupid, you can't get injured in a swimming pool right??  I was loaded into the back of the dive centre van because there was no more room in the front and we went for a drink.  Halfway through the evening I started feeling a bit dizzy and decided to head home.  I was house sitting for a friend in Notting Hill for a couple of days so I reached the flat and got straight into bed.  The pain in my ear was excruciating by this point and I could feel liquid trickling around inside.  I took some painkillers but I couldn't sleep and by 3am I was close to calling an ambulance.  Still, I didn't think it could possibly be anything serious.  I got dressed for work, just another Monday morning, but halfway walking to the tube I lost my balance and broke the heel on my shoe.  My boss called me to his office and said we had a client meeting and had to leave straight away.  The client meeting happened to be in St John's Wood, and after suffering through it, I excused myself and headed straight to the chamber and the hospital. 

The wonderful doctor there diagnosed me with a grade III middle ear barotrauma, which is basically a pressure injury one phase off a ruptured eardrum, and the sloshing liquid noises was blood built up behind the eardrum.  My loss of balance and dizziness was down to my inner spirit level being off kilter. I was told no diving for 2 months, and even after that my ears might never be the same again.  I was distraught, but extremely cautious over the next 2 months - I didn't even have a bath or go swimming.  However, what I did do after my time was up, was launch myself straight back into my hectic schedule, and lo and behold, 3 days after getting back into the water, exactly the same thing happened again.  This time I went to the doctor straight away and I was told 3 months with no diving, and if I wanted to get back in the water I had to okay it with him first and wear a Pro Ear Mask.  Now these sexy little objects are a bit more fashionable looking, but back then I was wearing the diving equivalent of a retainer and a back brace.


3 months later and a constant wearing of the ridiculous head gear, and I was back to normal.  In fact nowadays, I barely need to equalize at all.  I have been told that I have a massive build up of scar tissue in my ears which could've come from old infections as a child, which my parents claim never happened (but then they were probably stoned), so I am still susceptible to injury.  At least now I know how to recognize the signs and to act quickly.

So, diver error?  Well, yes, of course, I was stupid in ignoring my body's signals when ascending, in leaving it so long before seeking treatment, and in pushing myself so hard both times.  Instructor error?  YES!  It had never been pointed out to me before that squeezes or ruptures could happen on the way up as well as on the way down, and I never knew that water so shallow could produce such a serious injury.  I tell this story regularly now to hammer home the points to my students, and I hope they take it under consideration.  Injuries can happen anywhere anytime, and anybody that thinks they're immune is just fooling themselves.  Diving is dangerous, but so is breathing, walking, eating, sleeping, having sex, riding the bus, driving a car and flying on an aeroplane, but do your own research, don't believe everything your instructor tells you, and, unless you're planning on fist-punching a shark in the mouth, or riding a fat bird around on a scooter, statistically, you'll be just fine.

Join me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/adventuresofadivinginstructor

 

Run Forrest Run!!

Fitness. Fitness. Fitness.  Are you shuddering yet?  I think it's indicative of our general attitude towards exercise that once I decided what I was writing in my next post, rather than get on and write it, I spent 15mins researching 'Fitness' images on Google.  I'm still lethargic, and now I hate my abs.  Good work Google.

I have fought for years with an extremely unhealthy way of eating and body image, which I can probably pin point to being raised seeing snacks as something terrible and bad for you, and having to ask permission for a packet of crisps, which was usually given but with a disappointed look and a warning about getting fat.  My brothers would constantly tease me about me being overweight, when I wasn't at the time, and every time I looked in the mirror I would see a fat girl, so I stopped looking.  When I went to boarding school, we were given a weekly allowance, which invariably would be spent on snack foods or fast food, and our 6th Form Centre had snack machines which would take the place of lunch more often than not.  I would kid myself that I was dieting because I wasn't eating proper meals, but 6 packets of crisps and 3 chocolate bars carries a lot more calories than a balanced meal, and I quickly began to pile on the pounds.

Exercise wasn't really my bag at school, but I did love swimming, and swam for my county and my country on occasion; I loved hockey and was team captain for a couple of years, but somehow managed to make up in aggression what I lacked in movement.  Horse riding was another favourite, but it's difficult to shed weight when you're only going once a week; this changed when I started being more active at university and going almost every day, even leading up to training horses myself.  I became a secret snacker, hiding in my room or a toilet, devouring junk food quickly and then claiming not to have eaten anything that day.  My friends would try to reassure me, but I could never eat in front of people.  I would pick at meals in the school canteen, longing to go back to my room and eat in peace.

University was helpful for me - not enough money for snacks, and the halls of residence provided food if you could drag yourself out of bed to go and fetch it.  The problem was the drinking - when you're out every night until 5am, and then sleep until 5pm, it's not the healthiest of diets.  I lost some weight, but not nearly enough, and I still wasn't really exercising, unless you count dancing of course.

I think you can tell where this is heading, but the thing that changed both my body image and my method of eating, was diving.  It is very difficult to deal with being in a bikini when you are unhappy with your body, and luckily I picked the right place to work on it!! Utila was a haven for me - 5 dives a day with almost no time to eat in between, and when you do eat it's in front of everyone or not at all.  The shops weren't exactly stocked with snack foods, and a tan makes everything look better.  I dropped from a size 16 to a size 12 in 3 months and when I went back to the UK the first thing I did was join a gym.  I'm not saying I used to go all the time, but it definitely made my wallet lighter.

Now I'm still a long way from perfect with my eating or exercising habits, but I'm a hell of a lot better than I used to be 15 years ago, even 5 years ago.  I'm 30 now and everyone used to tell me that that's the most difficult age to jump on the exercise bandwagon but people, don't believe them, I'm probably in the best shape of my life! Age has absolutely fuck all to do with it - if you have the right mindset, you can exercise until you're 100 if your body is willing.  As my friend, our new personal trainer, was telling me the other day, Sir Steve Redgrave claims that your body can continue until you throw up and pass out, it's your mind that tries to stop you. 

I still snack in private, but in much smaller quantities, and my meals are regular and balanced.  I try and do some physical exercise every day - an example, this week I've done Pilates, snorkeling, a core session, aquarobics, a cardio session, and tonight I'll probably get in the pool again.  My advice is to mix it up because I get bored very easily, and the only thing that stops me is losing the motivation.  I'm now a respectable size 10, but I have a lot of muscle, thanks to diving primarily, and a strong body is the key to a strong mind. 

As the lady's ass above says - if you want it, work for it.  Don't expect good health to come in the mail, because that is a package that will never deliver.  Keep diving, remember your students look to you as a fitness professional (unfortunately guys, that is what you are), but diving alone is not enough - moderate your alcohol intake, moderate your carbohydrate intake, get in that gym, swim some lengths, run a mile, run cross country, RUN FORREST RUN!!  And I'm off to ice my abs and stab the medicine ball so she doesn't make me use it again...

Join me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/adventuresofadivinginstructor
 

It Must Be Love Part 2

Don't think I haven't noticed the ridonkulous popularity of my 'It Must Be Love' post - I'm guessing a lot of instructors out there have experienced the googly eyes, you lucky devils you.  So, in sympathy I've decided to make a Part 2, or Second Date if you will. 

I googled Instructor and Student and this came up - love it!

 

Now a long long time ago, in a land far away, I fell in love.  Well, I thought it was love. This magical land was called Egypt (you may have heard of it, there's been some shit going down lately), and I was a fresh-faced young recruitment consultant on holiday with a friend - two weeks in the sun, no strings, easy like Sunday morning right?  WRONG!  Tell that to the me that ended up on the transfer coach back to Sharm airport literally dripping with snot and inconsolable. I'm not usually a big crier (Sharkboy would disagree massively) but I swear the other passengers put on their lifejackets just in case.

 

The friend I went on holiday with was keen to do her Open Water course, and persuaded me to join her.  To be honest at the time I couldn't have cared less, but she didn't want to do it on her own, and if I didn't then I would have been alone for most of the holiday, which I really didn't want, so I agreed and we signed up.  The first day was pretty dull - classroom work, swim tests, "WHAT THE HELL, YOU WANT ME TO TAKE MY MASK OFF????".  Yeah, that didn't go down well, in fact my instructor (thank you sweetheart!) ended up grabbing my leg to drag me back down as I bolted for the surface.  I'm not recommending that as a course of action for everybody, but it worked for me and there's every possibility that if he hadn't done that, I wouldn't be where I am today.  We headed back to the hotel in the early evening, got showered and dressed and went downstairs to the pool bar for a sundowner.  We were staying in a very small hotel that I had stayed in the year previously with two friends, so I knew the place and the staff fairly well...but hello, who was this??  Suddenly this bronzed Adonis with muscles everywhere and the smallest red Speedo you've ever seen leapt out of the pool and started doing push ups in front of us.  Unable to draw my eyes from him, my first thought was "What a twat".  My friend agreed, and we happily went back to our drinks. 

 

Later on that evening, during dinner, the Animation (Entertainment) Team announced a bingo night, and guess who was the compere, Banana Hammock himself!  He smiled charmingly and made every excuse to come to our table.  His English wasn't the best, but those beautiful white teeth and huge biceps made an impression regardless, and actually he came across as quite a decent guy in the end, if a bit of a playboy.  He invited me out into Sharm Old Town after his shift was done, so around midnight, I packed my friend off to bed and went off to meet him outside the hotel like a naughty school girl.  Immediately he grabbed my hand and started showing me off like I was the woman of his dreams - to be honest, it's very difficult not to be charmed by that sort of behavior.  We sat in the market and drank tea, and when I was inevitably bitten by a squadron of mosquitos, he ordered lemon juice and rubbed it on my bites.  By the end of the evening I was a goner.  By the end of the holiday I was in love with the man and the diving.

 

The relationship continued for a couple of years, to the point where I was heading back to Egypt every three months, and we even got engaged.  It was fiery, passionate - we had the most blazing rows in my terrible Arabic and his terrible English which always ended the same way, ahem.  Looking back on it now, it was an obsessive and destructive relationship, and in the end it was diving that tore us apart.  We were together when I headed to Utila to go pro, and his jealousy over my love of the sport thankfully ended us within two days of my arrival.  My mourning period was surprisingly short, but then it's difficult to be sad in such an atmosphere, and I soon moved on to greener pastures.  I've been back to Egypt since, and my arrival is always heralded with a message or phone call from him, and once or twice even a late night visit bearing flowers or teddy bears.  As of two years ago he still hadn't got the message, but communication lines have opened recently, and I believe he is doing very well as a dolphin trainer in Saudi Arabia these days, so good for him.  The muscles have become a little flabbier, and the laughter lines a little deeper, and if he posts one more quote from the Quran on Facebook I'm defriending him; but I'm glad that he's settled.

 

Relationships come and go you see, at least the wrong ones do, and it's other passions, such as diving, that keep us grounded.  We all need something, or someone, in our lives that is steady and reliable, and for the last 7 years for me that has been diving.  My love life might have been stuck in the mud or up in the air, but when I sink beneath the surface, I am free. 

 

 



 Join me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/adventuresofadivinginstructor

Spare the Rod

and Spoil the Child - an old phrase but one that still rings true.  But in this case, I'm not here to talk about children, at least, not the small kind.  Have you ever worked with someone or had someone work for you that you just rack your brains about?  You try and you try but no amount of help or counseling can make them change their ways?  I'm faced with this dilemma at the moment, well, me and one or two others, and it's a toughie.  Talk about keeping you up at night, if you could bottle that nervous, nail-biting, 'whatthefuckdoIdonow' feeling, Nescafe would go out of business.  And yes, 'whatthefuckdoIdonow' has just been added to my online dictionary, I'm a big fan.

Some people just blow me away in terms of attitude, and divers seem to be some of the worst.  For someone who regularly takes part in such a humbling experience as diving, how dare we have a snobby attitude!  Diving is a blessing that is not to be taken lightly, as are jobs in this shitty economy, so why throw away a perfectly good one because you decide to behave like you're better than everyone else?  Now don't get me wrong, I've been disciplined (ooer!) and even fired from a job, but never because of my attitude - I was just shit at my job and I hated it, and no amount of training was going to cure that; but my god while I was there I tried!  I slogged my guts out until the very end, clinging on with both hands and a few teeth until finally my company got fed up of me, and rightly so.  I have never been fired or disciplined however, while working in a diving position, and I'm particularly proud of that fact.  Of course, time can always change that fact, and I'm not perfect (well...), but every day I wake up convinced of my own vulnerability and determined to show the world what a hard worker I am.

For those of you currently working as a professional in the diving industry - ask yourself, do you take your job for granted?  Do you have those days where the alarm clock is a little bit quieter than usual?  Have you ever made an excuse to not get in the water?  If you answer yes to those things, you're only human, but maybe you're also in the wrong job.  Maybe that company isn't for you, maybe the country or your colleagues are not your cup of tea, the key is to change while you still can.  Don't get stuck in a dead-end job that you clearly hate and then expect to be able to teach good courses.  Humans are sensitive creatures, and no matter how well you think you're hiding that bad attitude, your clients will pick up on it.  Cheesy as it sounds, we are in the business of creating smiles and memories, and no one wants a fake one from either.  Next time someone refers to it as 'oxygen' for the 100th time that week, or asks what the red button does, just smile sweetly and remember that it might be the 100th time for you, but it's the first time for them. 

As for those of you with a holier than thou attitude, I would like to share a quote from the late great Jacques Cousteau - "It takes generosity to discover the whole through others. If you realize you are only a violin, you can open yourself up to the world by playing your role in the concert ".  I'm not any great shakes at literature but even I can understand that one - no man is an island, so don't go thinking you're Ibiza.


Join me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/adventuresofadivinginstructor
 

It Must Be Love

No penetration before certification...ever heard that one?  As an instructor, we are constantly placed on impossible, and sometimes unfounded pedestals, and if you haven't seen that dreamy look in the eyes of a student of the opposite sex, you're either Quasimodo or a completely useless teacher!  I remember vividly the hopeless infatuation with my charming and charismatic Open Water instructor - he could do no wrong in my eyes, and actually is still quite a good friend, but at the time I was desperate for his attention.  The same thing happened during my Rescue and Divemaster, developing crushes on the instructors, not necessarily in a sexual way, but in a geeky kid following around the cool kids at school kind of a way.  My instructors on Utila were effortlessly cool in my eyes - clean living, tattooed, tall and slender, people seemed to gravitate around them in a way that they had never done to me.  Strangely enough, almost none of them are still practicing instructors, which is a shame because they are all amazing teachers, but maybe that's how it works, with the 'old' generation giving way to the 'new'.  They'll have to prise the regulator from my cold dead hands before that happens!!

The first time I experienced a student's 'coweyes', I was teaching a confined water session in the UK, in a local indoor swimming pool.  It was a big group, maybe 8 students, and we were on a time limit, so as usual I kept my head down and got on with the work, not particularly interested in making friends.  My bus was late that day, so I flounced into the pool area red faced and sweating, still in my outside clothes, to find all my students sat waiting in their bathing suits.  I didn't notice the guy in question at first, other than to clock that he was wearing Speedos and seemed quite cocky.  As the session continued, he in particular had a few problems with mask clearing, so I spent a bit of extra time with him under water before passing him to the Divemaster to continue practicing the skill while I finished off with the others.  At the end of the session, I jumped back in the pool while everyone was dismantling their gear to pick something up, maybe some dropped weights, and noticed his eyes on me when I climbed out of the pool.  He made a few cheeky comments, and I forget the banter with the passing years, but he drew a smile, I remember that much.  Later on he told me that the shape of my mask made a heart around my eyes, and it was that that kept him calm underwater...charmer.  About a week later, he found me on Facebook, or I found him, and we started exchanging messages.  He asked me out for dinner, I accepted, and the rest, as they say, is history!  We were together for a little while, eventually ending when I moved to Bahrain, and as far as I'm aware, he never dived again after finishing his Open Water, which is a shame, but not that surprising.  Unfortunately a lot of students who complete their course in the UK usually just do it for a particular holiday and then give up afterwards due to lack of time and money.

So the moral of this story?  To be honest, I don't really have one.  I know a lot of couples in the diving industry who started as instructor and student, and are still very happy to this day.  Equally I know a few instructors who unfortunately thrive on the 'power' and are well-known predators when it comes to their students.  One chap used to only speak to girls a day or two before they were due to leave the island, because he knew he wouldn't have to deal with the cling-ons afterwards.  I heard about an instructor couple who used to swing with their students, so you see, it takes all types.  I'm not suggesting that dating your students is a bad idea, that is after all how me and Sharkboy got together, but I would recommend caution.  The 'no penetration before certification' rule is a good one to live by but there is still plenty of trouble to get into before that occurs.  Just like with every good relationship, get to know the person behind the mask first, because once they're out of their Speedo, all you're left with is the person, not the instructor!



Join me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/adventuresofadivinginstructor

6 Days a Week??

So I was speaking to my parents the other day, amazed at how after 6 years of doing this job they still take the time to 'encourage' me to come home and 'get a real job'.  I wonder if other instructors have this conversation as often as I do - I suspect so.  Supportive or not, there will always be an element to people's thinking that a professional diver pretty much just sits around on the beach and drinks cocktails, occasionally taking some young hot backpacker beneath the waves for a little underwater seduction.  Believe me, I wish it was like this!!  Have you ever tried seducing someone underwater?  It's hard man!  Saltwater in the eyes, clown fish trying to peck your nose off, fin blisters, mosquito bites, snot all over your face when you surface - trust me when I say that diving ain't as sexy as they would have you believe, and definitely not as easy...

A typical dive day with typical guests

When I left the UK for the Middle East, for my first ever full time diving job, I went as an instructor to a country that I believed to be completely strict and hardline - imagining fantastic diving conditions but almost no social life.  Boy, was I wrong!  My first weekend in Bahrain saw me perched on the edge of sanity watching a clutch of military men strip naked and start drinking games, fascinated with the idea of a British female diving instructor.  To say I was in clover is under-selling.  These men were amazing to me coming from cold and dank UK, where the men rarely even notice the words falling from your lips before proposing something undoubtedly disgusting in a regional accent (you may be able to tell I'm not a fan of the average British male - certain men excepting I'm sure!).  Here they were strong, fit, tattooed, polite with just a hint of 'I could kill you with my thumb' that was intoxicating.  And even better, most of them could dive! 

As for the diving itself - imagine swimming in a completely brown very warm bath, with only the occasional cuttlefish or small damselfish to break the gloom.  It was definitely not the best diving I had ever done in my life, and in the first two weeks I had three trips to hospital to remove fishing hooks from my hands and have tetanus shots, but the people, for the most part, were pleasant and the money was good.  Working with a great commission structure helped, as well as having my own apartment for the first time ever, complete with gym and pool; all of these conspired to keep me in the country, on and off, for three years.

A typical dive!

The moral of this story is, before choosing a location for your dive job, make sure you research thoroughly and enter into everything with eyes wide open.  Bahrain was not the perfect job, but it was a perfect stepping stone for something bigger.  Don't travel anywhere with preconceptions or prejudices, and most importantly of all - ACCEPT EVERY INVITIATION!  Oh and be safe ;)

 Join me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/adventuresofadivinginstructor

Famous Last Words...

As all good things that must come to an end, today marks the end of my story from Utila, or at least the main part.  There are other chapters that I'm sure will crop up in future posts, but it has been enormously fun reliving it!  I feel like that part of my life was so long ago I can't even picture the person I was back then any more, which is ironic considering that where I am in my life right now is surprisingly similar - nervous, full of hope, launching into something unexpected that although I know is an amazing opportunity, many people have told me it's doomed from the start.  I try and keep a positive outlook on things and avoid those 'toxic' people who seem desperate to infuse you with their pessimism, and of course the ever-reassuring prescence of Sharkboy is an untold comfort.  He faces the final chapter of his IDC and IE in the coming week, and is struggling with self-doubt.  I want to reassure him about what an amazing instructor he will be, and I have no doubt he will be, and I hope if he's reading this (which he'd better be!!) he has gained a little comfort from my own story.  

Week Seven in Utila - Unleash The Beast

I'm now writing this from home, quite depressed and jetlagged, not loving being back in London, but hey, at least it's sunny right?! The last week has been ridiculously hectic! Had all of the OWSI exams, which were quite tough, and the bloody theory exams again as well!! I got a 5 out of 5 in my confined water session though, so that's always good...

After our IE (Instructor Exams), we all went for dinner at a really nice restaurant called Kate's where Angel, one of our course directors teaching us, decided to lead us in one final presentation - tequila body shots!! Very funny, with me and Beckie as his assistants (see photos on Facebook!) - lots more drink followed and I had a great night from what I can remember. The following night I had my snorkel test at the UDC BBQ, which was also very drunken, as Jason, the guy who administers the booze, pretty much just gave me beer and rum...we all went to a club afterwards, and well, let's just say skinny dipping was involved :).

My last night was quite quiet, just dinner and a couple of drinks, was broken by that point, so didn't want to go too far! I had to get up at 5am yesterday morning to get my flight at 6am, then the little propeller plane stopped at Roatan, La Ceiba and San Pedro Sula before we even got to Houston!! Loooooong time travelling, but am home safe and sound now and attempting to unpack, but procrastinating by trying to catch up on 2 months of Eastenders!

Well, those are the end of my adventures, until the next time I jet off! I will be sure and try to catch up with you all now that I'm back, but, I am now officially home.

 

Join me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/adventuresofadivinginstructor

New Beginnings

Remember when sex was fun and diving was dangerous?  Me too, but more and more technological advancements are being made to make diving one of the safer 'extreme' sports.  I was talking with Sharkboy about an incident that happened a long time that ended in the death of a student, and I was reminded how easy it is for an instructor to lose focus.  The problem is that the student is only as trustworthy as the instructor, and if you place your trust in the wrong people, this is when accidents happen.  PADI tells us that the majority of accidents happen because of 'diver error', but I fear that the case is more like 'instructor error'.  It is worrying how many stories you hear about instructors messing up, usually to save face or to seem cool; an example springs to mind of a girl telling me she will never dive again because for her Open Water Dive 1 the instructor took her on a tiger shark feeding dive.  I wouldn't dive again after that either.

For those of you who don't dive, but are thinking of starting, the moral is this - do the research and find a recommended instructor; don't go automatically for the cheapest or the nearest option.  For those of you who do dive and wish to continue doing so - trust your instinct above all else; if something feels wrong, it probably is.

Week Six in Utila - Diving Up A Storm

Gosh, doesn't time fly when you're having fun, only a week and a bit left of my mission here - not sure I'm ready to come home yet between you and me, but don't really have a choice at this stage!

Have been doing my IDC (Instructor Development Course) for just over a week, and finished today an Assistant Instructor. We have our Mock Instructor Exams tomorrow and Saturday, then I'm doing my EFR (CPR) Instructor exams on Saturday afternoon and Sunday, get Monday off for revision, then IE (Instructor Exams) on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday morning - then I'm getting very, very pissed!!! The good news is, there's a Level 4 (out of 5) hurricane expected to hit on Monday and Tuesday, so maybe the examiners will go easy on us?! We have an independent PADI examiner who comes over from California especially to audit us on those 3 days, so hopefully we won't waste his time!

2 people have already dropped out due to malaria, which is rife at the moment, but another girl from the US has joined halfway through because she was already an Assistant Instructor. At the moment we are 5 girls and 5 boys, which works out quite well, and both of our Course Directors are male (and one is very nice). Am starting to get a little bit nervous now, they were harder on us today than they are most days, because we have our mocks tomorrow, and everyone scored 1 out of 5 for their confined water presentations, apart from me and another girl, who got 4, so that's okay!

The IDC consists of 7 parts - Dive Theory Exams (Physics, Decompression Theory and Dive Planning, Physiology, Dive Environment and Skills, and Equipment); an open book PADI Standards exam; confined water presentations (where you have to demonstrate a skill in the pool, then you get students with problems which you have to catch in time and correct); open water presentations (same as above, but in open water off the boat, and you have 2 skills to present); prescriptive teaching (where you run through quizzes in front of the class and elaborate on any questions that were missed or answered incorrectly); lecturing; and rescue scenarios. You have to get a score above 3.5 in everything in order to pass, 85% on the standards exam and 75% in all the other exams. So far I haven't scored below a 4, 80% in the exams, and 90% in the standards exam - so fingers crossed!!

After all this is done, I have the grand total of 2 nights off to enjoy myself before I have to come home :( Can't believe it's all gone past so quickly. I've made some amazing friends here and met lots of weird and wonderful people, and I know now that diving isn't just a fad for me, I can really see myself doing this, maybe not full time until I find my feet, but definitely part time and at weekends, maybe around a recruitment job somewhere - but it's a good feeling to know that you are good at something that you love as well!!

Well, will try and write more, maybe next Friday, as am going to be stupidly busy next week. Cross everything for me and wish me luck!!!xxx

Join me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/adventuresofadivinginstructor

Like

Spend a Penny

Apologies for not updating sooner, I've been in 'town' with Sharkboy for a few days enjoying sun, sea, cocktails and a little distance away from Shutter Island.  He's starting his IDC this week, under circumstances that while I may not agree with, I have agreed to support, and I can only hope that he has sense enough to make the most of them.  When we pay for something, I am of the opinion that we should take the opportunity to learn with our money, not to waste the chances given to us.  Failing that, and at the risk of sounding like my mother, I promise not to be angry...just disappointed.  On with the show:

Week Five in Utila - Doesn't Time Fly

Wow, only 3 weeks left, can't believe how quickly this is going, time really does fly when you're having fun!!

Well, the good news is that as of this morning I will be a Divemaster, and then I start my full Instructor course tomorrow afternoon!  The Rescue course went well, got to drown lots of fat people, which was nice, and a couple of them have decided to stay on and do their DM, so I get to boss them around again when I'm an Instructor (not that I'm doing this for the power or anything.....).

I've also been helping out on various Open Water and Advanced Open Water courses, which are fun, but not quite as agressive as the Rescue! They are mostly just good for getting your dives up. I need 60 to qualify for my DM and I'm on 57 at the moment, so will be diving this afternoon and tomorrow morning which will get me another 4 or 8 depending on how I plan it out.

I moved from the Mansion a couple of days ago and have moved into a 2-bed apartment directly opposite the Dive Centre, so it now takes me the grand total of 15 seconds to walk to work, and I still manage to be late! I've moved in with Beccy, one of the rotational DM's here at UDC, who is also going on to do her IDC with me tomorrow. She's lovely! The flat is great and very quiet, air conditioning, 2 double bedrooms, power shower (very rare on the island), open plan kitchen, dining and living (with a TV, YES!!), and a balcony that looks out onto the Mangroves, all for $200 a month, which is nice....

Sunjam, the big island music festival was this weekend, but those of us that had to work stayed and had a big bbq, only to be told that we were being roped in to clean the dive shop - fantastic!! We ended up on our hands and knees in bikinis scrubbing steps and mats, so lots of photos were being taken!! All good fun though, and we were pissed, which helped!

Well, that's all my news really, am still ridiculously busy, but moving so close to the centre has really helped. A few of us went out last night to celebrate me finishing my DM, and I ended going home at 9.30am coz I'm such a wuss!!

Join me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/adventuresofadivinginstructor

Rescue Me!

Rescue skills are very important in the diving world, mostly because unfortunately you never know when you're going to need them.  Even more unfortunately, I've had to use mine more than once, and I'm forever grateful to my instructors going along, and my students, that I've had good training and even better opportunity to brush up my skills.  I love teaching rescue, even if invariable the courses end up with me being injured somehow - broken toes are not uncommon.  But don't for one minute think that diving is unsafe - diving, like with any other sport, is only as unsafe as the person doing it, and if you trust your buddy there should be no reason to worry.  One member of staff said to me yesterday that his instructor, when he was starting his open water course, asked why he was scared to dive?  "Because diving is dangerous", my friend replied.  His instructor calmly pointed out that more people die in their beds than they do anywhere else in the world, and yet no one is afraid to go to sleep at night...

Week Four in Utila - Nobody Told Me This Was a Working Holiday!

I've abandoned the Spanish because I've started trying to speak it when drunk which doesn't impress the locals believe me!! Well, this week has been super-busy to say the least!! My first week as a Dive Master Trainee is over, and according to my mentor, I'm flying through, yay! So far I've done my swim test, 4 exams, assisted on an Open Water course and a Rescue Diver course, demonstrated 20 skills underwater to a class and had a medical - all in one week!!

Just another day at the office...

My typical day at the moment consists of getting up at 5.30am to be at the dive shop for just after 6am. If I'm on a 7.30am boat, I have to greet the resort divers and get all their equipment ready, then set up the boat with first aid, oxygen etc. I'm getting to know all the boat captains, and one of them asked me out to dinner last week - unfortunately he's about 40, married with kids, but that's Utila for you!! Yesterday for example, I was in the shop at 6.30am, getting equipment ready for 9 Open Water students. Was in the boat at 7.30am, did two dives before 10am, then back to the centre, taking photos and certifying the students who were all really chuffed (most of them didn't speak English as they were Switzerland so I had to translate the course for them into German as we were going along...), teaching them how to rinse their equipment properly and put it away, debriefing with the instructor, paperwork, then setting up equipment for 9 Rescue Diver students, back in the water at 11.30am, out of the water at 4.45pm, in a Decompression Theory class at 5pm, out at 6.15pm, into a Staff Meeting at 6.30pm, out at 7.30pm, then sat down with my mentor for an hour - it never stops!!!

Can't complain though, I'm very lucky. This is an amazing experience and I've really discovered a passion for something that previously I thought was just a hobby. I don't mind getting up at stupid o'clock in the morning because I'm itching to get into the water (and itching generally - damn sandflies!).

Am loving assisting on the Rescue course at the moment as I get to fuck people up!! I have to drown in varying degrees of panic, and all the big blokes keep coming for me because they assume that, as a girl, I won't put up much of a fight - MWAH HAH HAH!!! Yesterday I sat on one underwater, ripped out 3 regulators, broke a mask and 2 fins!!! My points score is way higher than all the other DMTs!! It's payback time - I'm introducing my new technique of alligator rolling today, can't wait!! Let's see them try and hold me then!!

Who doesn't love a good rescue!

Sunshine on a Rainy Day

As with everything in life, bad turns into good and back around again.  It is impossible, in this environment to stay miserable forever, much as you want to sometimes.  You try and put on a brave face, and eventually that faces becomes your real one, and as I always say (or at least have done for the last 5 weeks), there's nothing a good gym session can't cure!  My mission to lose weight continues, and the usual frustrations with the office and life melt away with the sweat and a big dose of reggae music blasting through my eardrums.  I was a very fat kid, and my time in Utila went some way to proving that there was bone structure under the layers...doing four dives a day with almost no food and lots of alcohol is possibly the world's worst and best diet!  And on that note, if you're still paying attention, we shall continue.  Don't ask me who I'm talking about going for drinks with, God only knows if I can remember, but Alex was the love of my life at the time, and a story for another time.

Week Three in Utila - Exhaustion Strikes

Hola! See, I'm picking up the lingo already - check me out!! I can now converse adequately with my lady that does (I say hola every morning and evening, and occasionally que t'al), well, it's just a good job everyone on the island speaks English, that's all I can say.

Things are progressing really well with my courses. I finished my Rescue Diver finally on Sunday, which was hell underwater!! Dom is Satan in disguise - at one point I had to deal with a panicking diver underwater, then Alex and Dom swam past me, ripped off my mask, ripped out my reg (the thing you need to breathe), unclipped my BCD (inflatable jacket with air tank attached) and stole one of my fins. So I was sat there 7m under, watching all my equipment floating past me and thinking, "Shit, I need that to live". All worked out okay in the end though!! We then had to kick ourselves on board a boat without using a ladder after towing a tired diver about 300m over the surf, and then lift them on board - I got a rather large Argentian chap to lift, lucky me!! We had to get them to the boat, get ourselves on board, them on board and start giving them CPR and breaths within 30 seconds - not easy!!

I started my Dive Master course officially on Monday, and so far I've done 2 exams and my swim test. After helping out with some resort divers yesterday morning, we had the exam and then the swim test with no breaks for food or a rest!! Nightmare!! The swim test was 400m freestyle as quickly as possible, then 800m snorkelling with fins as quickly as possibly, then 200m tired diver tow, then treading water for 15mins with our arms in the air. Phewee!! All done though - yay!! As soon as I've done one more exam and demonstrated the 20 skills needed for Open Water, I can start assisting on courses and getting my dive numbers up.

Today was awesome!! I was in the shop for 6.30am to help out in the equipment room and gear up all the boats (basically lugging about 30 air tanks across the dock to the boats). Got on a boat at 8.30am with a load of Argentian (what is it with these people!!) resort divers (basically that means they are staying in a hotel, are usually quite experienced divers with their own gear and we aren't allowed to tell them off or help them if they go wrong because they are just here to have fun). We sighted about 60 spinner dolphins off the stern, so jumped in to snorkel with them - it was amazing!! I had 2 adults, a juvenile and a baby about 2m below me at one point, just coasting along and singing really loudly!! We then did 2 dives off a great site called the Pinnacles where we swam through some caves at about 40m/130ft, and saw an eagle ray, a stingray ray, a 3m grouper, a 5ft tarpon, squid, lobster - best dives ever!!!! Am still quite hyper, you might have realised!! Then back this afternoon to do my second exam where I got 100% - the only one in the class, check me out!! Got 90% yesterday, but still the highest of the class - yeah!!

Well, that's all my news really, I've got to go and see what time my skills have be done tomorrow, and I have another exam at 2pm, and then I've passed all the entry requirements, thank god!!! Oh, and 7 more people have moved into my house, and I'm sharing with a weird Danish girl for a week who is very rude. I have a plug-in mosquito thing behind her bed, and she said "That's healthy, so I have to breathe it in at night do I?". I replied, "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise you'd rather die from malaria, I'll put it back on my side of the room and open all the windows at night shall I?". She stopped talking after that. Expletive, expletive......

P.S Me and Alex are officially over, boys smell, apart from one particularly nice one I've met here, we're going for drinks on Friday

Very serious and hard at work...

A Sad Moment

Had some bad news come through today, unfortunately at the ripe old age of 94 my grandad, and last remaining grandparent, has died.  The rain in the Maldives at the moment certainly seems to be matching my mood, but how sad can you be when you think that someone had 94 years on this planet, leaving behind 2 children, 5 grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren, having fought for his country, lived in some of the most exotic places in the world, drank tea in the gardens of Sri Lanka long before it became 'au fait', and was still making grandfather clocks for his neighbours and friends long after he should have been allowed to shinny up a ladder.  Rest in peace Grandad, if anyone deserves it you do, and I hope I have accomplished just half of what you have when I'm anywhere near your age.

And so on to the next piece of the saga - enjoy!

Week Two in Utila - The Toe Saga Continues...

Hello everybody!! Well, you find me in a much better mood today, I'm back in the water, yay!!! Did two dives this morning, upsettingly not as good as Egypt, but very pleasant nonetheless, saw a big stingray, humungous crab that had fallen into a barrel sponge rather amusingly, and a big Barracuda.

I've met up with one of the other girls who came from Real Gap, who will be doing her DMT with me starting on Monday, and I start my Rescue Course with Dom tomorrow, which is good news, because a. I wanted to do it with Dom, and b. I'm pooing myself about it because the DM's try their hardest to drown you and I want to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. In one of the scenarios, Dom takes a black fin and pretends there's a shark attack, then whilst you are saving the bitten, desperatly flailing panicked diver, one of the DM's comes up behind you, takes off your mask and turns off your air whilst you are underwater. Looking forward to that one.

The Dive Master Training (DMT) starts for me on Monday, with a chap called Jason as my mentor, who is half south african and is recovering from a particularly nasty bout of Dengue that appears to be going round the island. It kicks off with 5 initial exams before you're even allowed on the course - 3 paper exams on physics, skills certification (seeing if I remember stuff from my open water) and a swim test (400m swimming, 100m tired diver tow, 800m with a snorkel and flippers, 15mins floating on your back). Looks like monday's going to be a busy day!! And then I'm basically going to be everyone's bitch for 4 weeks. Excellent...

The toe is much better, Dr John ripped out the final piece on Monday which caused me a lot of pain and blood loss, but all over with now. Didn't help that Alex stood on it with his wooden leg, which meant that he couldn't feel it, but I certainly could! Hey ho!

Well, think that's it for now, I've got the afternoon off, so I'm going to go and grab some banana cake before heading to the pool at the Mango Inn, then maybe sit on the patio at home and watch Charlie and Lola the dogs chase hummingbirds through the coconut palms. Big UDC bbq tonight, so must make the most of newly-single life, hmmm, what to wear.....

Charlie and Lola in their element!

Utila Days Part 1

Wow, 94 page views in 1 day, I'm a lucky girl!  Although Sharkboy wasn't overly impressed with the pen name...tough nuts babe!  Now after a day like today, all I wanted to do was drift away to happier times, so here is an excerpt from an email note I started writing when first went to Utila in 2007.  Enjoy, and there will be more to come.

The wonderful Dr John...what a legend

Hello everybody!!! Well, I'm here!! My nightmare 3 days travelling to the US, and then to San Pedro Sula, and then Utila in a propeller plane is over!!! The propeller plane was incredibly hairy, particularly when our intrepid Capitan Carlos decided to fly one-handed with his elbow out of the window...until the window fell off...

Landed safely though, thank God, and had a bumpy ride down to the dive centre. Everyone here drives either golf carts, motorbikes, quad bikes or bicycles, but it's easiest just to walk. The island is so small, you could probably walk it in under an hour. However, this also means that everyone knows everyone's business, so it's just like being back at boarding school again, just with less bitching and more piss-taking!

So, the good news as follows - the sandflies and mosquitos have taken an instant liking to me and are happily feasting away, and no amount of Deet, baby oil, mosquito repellent or citronella will keep them away. I'm hoping they'll get bored of me fairly soon. Perhaps wishful thinking! Everyone on the island is lovely, and speaks perfect English with a Spanish/Caribbean accent, which is quite amusing. My diving instructor, Dom, is lovely, as is his girlfriend, and comes from Sutton, so we have lots of talk about. I'm living in a big called La Mansion about 15mins away from the dive shop, so the walking is doing me good and sweating out all of my English puppy fat!! At least, that's what I'm telling myself. I'm living with 2 girls and 2 guys, all very nice, all marine biologists working for the dolphin and whale shark conservation centre. The girls are in their 30s/40s and the guys are younger, and very funny. I've been spending a lot of time with them. Chris is Austrian and a business reporter doing volunteer work over here, but is bored with everyone talking about the same thing, so has started asking everyone what their favourite sexual position is, and Alex is from Brighton studying for a Masters, and his favourite party trick is setting his wooden leg on fire and lighting cigarettes from it!! Oh, and I have finished the first part of my course, EFR, the first aid, so I am part way there!

The bad news - well, yesterday, when completing my first aid course, I caught my big toe nail in the floorboards and ripped it 90% off. Much pain and blood, lucky we were doing first aid. Dom took me to the doctors on a motorbike, which with the state of the roads here didn't really help my toe. I was seen by Dr John who is clinically insane and advocates building a crack house on the island to keep people out of trouble, who has told me no water for a week. How gutted am I?! This not only means that I have to spent the entire week studying rather than diving, but that I'm probably going to miss my instructor course which is scheduled for August 8th. So, right now, the options are to finish what I can, and potentially come back in a couple of months or do it somewhere else, or stay on for 4 more weeks, which is looking unlikely as it would mean covering rent, etc, and explaining myself to work, which I don't think they would take very well.

So, now I am known as Nat the Nail, as I said everyone on the island knows everything....I hobble along quite happily, and I've now got to go and speak to the course director in an attempt to sort my life out - wish me luck!!!!

Saturday 14th

JUST GET ME IN THAT WATER!!!!!! ARGH!!!!! Only 4 more days to wait, I can do it, and at least I'm getting all of my classroom work out of the way in the meantime, which is great because I can then just jump straight into the water as soon as I'm healed. Crazy Dr John is whipping out the last bit of toenail, bleurgh, on Monday, then hopefully Wednesday I should be diver-fit! Can't wait!! Another guy on my Rescue Course saw a 6ft nurse shark and an eagle ray a couple of days ago, and the guy from the Centre for Marine Ecology has been seeing signs of whale sharks, out of season, so fingers crossed!!!!

Last night I had the experience of a Utila pub quiz, which was surprisingly difficult, mostly american questions, but luckily we had Shelby and Dave on our team who are from the US, and Dom was no help at all, even on the diving questions, which was slightly worrying, but we still rose from the bottom to come 2nd. Our team name was, I don't shave my balls. I'm still not sure why, and I had no say over the name! I was up for Team Nails, but nobody was impressed with that one...We won a Scorpion Bowl, which is basically half of a huge melon carved out and filled with ice and every conceivable liquor you could imagine - rum, obviously, vodka, grenadine, lemonade, whiskey, banana rum, and anything else they could find on the top shelf. There were 4 of us drinking it, and it did go down surprisingly easily, which led to a bit of a lock in in the local cafe for me, Becci and Dom, but all good!

Well, I'm off to go and sink another cold beer, oops, I mean Fanta, before class starts again at 1.30pm, maybe have some fresh olive bread and sit on the dock at the diving shop and feed Barry the Barracuda (my new pet, he lives under the resort boat!). 

Introduction

Hello world!  Well this first blog is intended as an introduction to all those of you with nothing better to do than read it...how bored you must be!

I am a 30 year British woman who, having tried and tested a number of careers, has settled on Scuba Diving.  Over the last 7 years this sport has leaped from being my hobby and my job to being my passion, nay, my life.  You see, what a lot of people don't understand is that it is a way of life, the only way of life for some, and not something to be dismissed as a fairweather activity.

I have a lot of friends who dive, some casually, some with an intensity that would scare lesser mortals, and I have heard some stories that would make your hair curl.  This blog is intended to be an outlet for those stories (of course with names changed) as well as a medium for photos and other random bits and pieces.  Hopefully you won't become too fed up with my ramblings.  I won't promise to update every day, but I promise when I do, it will be something worthwhile :).  This is also my first attempt at blogging and writing something that will actually get published, even if it is only in the 'bloggersphere'...

Here's something to get started - recently my boyfriend (Sharkboy) passed his Divemaster course, and this got me thinking about when I passed mine 6 years ago.  My career in recruitment has reached it's stale conclusion and I was floundering in London, desperately seeking an outlet for my ideas and energy.  If I'm honest, I was only an ok recruiter, I had no passion or desire to sell jobs, to sell people, and I needed something more fulfilling.  I had started diving about a year previously, on an off chance, when a friend of mine from school and I went on holiday to Egypt.  I met a man and started diving - believe me when I say that many stories start this way in the diving industry.  I was never that keen on the idea of diving, but, being game, I agreed to do my Open Water course with my friend, and I will never forget that first dive in the Red Sea.  Breathtaking doesn't even start to describe it - I had such an intense feeling of coming home, of belonging to something so much bigger than I would ever be, and even better, I was a natural!  When I came back to London, the two relationships continued, and I made it a point to return to Egypt whenever I could.  Luckily I was in a job that gave more holiday allowance than most, and I was able to travel every couple of months (this was also back in the days when Monarch and Thomson did cheap package holidays to the Red Sea so it didn't break the bank).

Finally, after finishing my Advanced Open Water, I decided the time had come to take a sabbatical from work and travel to Honduras to do a 'zero to hero' course; Rescue, Divemaster and Instructor; in three months.  The boyfriend freaked out due to an ex who had left him to become an instructor, the parents thought initially it was a bad idea but backed me in the end, and my friends were equal parts jealous and overjoyed for me.   I paid the rent on the house and left my guinea pig in safe hands, and flew halfway across the world.  After a few disastrous nights in Houston and San Pedro Sula, I arrived in Utila to be greeted by...no one.  The course and accommodation were arranged but when the bi-plane touched down in the empty football pitch I was expected to make my own way to the dive centre.  Surrounded by acres of jungle and smoggy heat, shouldering my backpack and eager to experience life, real life, I walked to the dive school in the centre of the island, where, if memory serves, I was handed a beer and directed to my new digs.  My housemates are another story altogether, but the welcome was less than warm at first.  The courses went well and I finished my Divemaster course in a record 10 days.  Most people take a few months as a minimum, but I was on a tight schedule with the Instructor course coming up very soon.

The memories and friendships that I took from those months in Utila will stay with me for a lifetime, and some of them I will share with you on here at a different time.  I've been thinking more and more about those times lately, and Sharkboy's nervousness over his instructor course, and the impending snorkel test, keep returning me to memory lane.  I want to tell him not to be nervous, not to worry, but I remember exactly how nervous I was, how badly I wanted to succeed, how badly I needed to succeed.  So maybe this blog is most of all a message to him - if you want something so badly you cannot imagine a life without it, anything is possible.  Reach for the stars.  Grab the bull by the horns.  Look life right in the eyes and tell it 'If I don't pass this time, I'll do it in two weeks.'  God bless the PADI system...