ÎÚÑ»´«Ã½

Skip to content
Join our Newsletter

Iron Matron takes the scuba plunge

Sharie Epp plunges into the world of scuba diving

So there I was, scuba diving.

With 20 feet of Brentwood Bay and a school of fish above me, all I could think was: "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

At the same time, this other little voice was saying: "I can't believe it either. You must be out of your mind."

Even now, when I look back on last week's underwater adventure, it's almost surreal -- kind of like the moon walk. Did it really happen? I should have got that big orange sea cucumber to autograph my forehead.

Scuba diving is something I thought I'd never do in a million years, and I didn't really consider the implications of including it on the Iron Matron's wish list. I figured I could chicken out easily enough, but then the little caricature showed up in the TC with me resplendent in scuba gear. I was sunk.

Trolling through the learn-to-dive listings on the Internet, I found Rockfish Divers, which offered a four-hour Discover Scuba Diving course at the Brentwood Bay Lodge and Spa waterfront resort. The session offered basic instruction and a pool dive, followed by an ocean dive. It sounded perfect.

My son Jody wanted to come, as well. A fisherman, he wanted to see how the hook would look to a fish. I arranged a date with Rockfish owner and diving instructor Elly Pendleton. The detailed medical form we had to fill out didn't help my peace of mind, as we both needed our doctor's clearance -- him because he has allergies, and me because I take medication for high blood pressure and have a family history of heart attacks. Perfect.

By the time the day arrived, I had decided to quit worrying and leave it to fate -- like flying in an airplane. We hadn't told Pendleton neither of us liked to have our face in the water.

And unsuspecting Pendleton, who fell in love with diving during her own Discover Scuba Diving session in Australia eight years ago, met us with a sunny smile, which never wavered, even though she wound up dealing with a very slow learner. Her degree in anthropology likely helped.

Wedged into neoprene wetsuits, we went through the oxygen and depth gauges (to be monitored by Pendleton) and various hoses and other paraphernalia, including the buoyancy compensating device. The vestlike BCD can be inflated or deflated via a hose and two buttons, depending on whether you want to go up or down. Later, I was to recall how simple the BCD operation sounded in theory. We tried the regulator mouthpieces and masks. Did you know spit smeared into a mask acts as a defogger?

Then it was into the pool, weights holding down our "floaty feet." Jody caught on right away, but I was another story. I kept exhaling through my nose, which loosened the mask, and let water in. Trying to blow it out underwater was a tricky business, as was controlling my rolling body. I had a few panic attacks where I pressed the red button on the BCD and popped to the surface. There's nothing like water trauma in a pool 1.5 metres deep.

But I eventually got the hang of it and began to enjoy cruising around the bottom of the pool.

I can do this, I nodded, mostly convinced, and we headed down to the lodge's Eco-Adventure Centre dock where driver Jeannine Wakely was waiting with the Loup de Mer (Wolf of the Sea) dive boat. We added another layer of wet suit, gloves, and hood. Hoping to keep me in a comfort zone -- her homemade chocolate chip cookies helped -- Elly took us to a relatively shallow area at Willis Point. A little review, and it was sitting on the edge of the boat and backwards over the side.

We swam to where we could stand to start with, but I got in trouble again trying to deflate the BCD to descend. Bulky gloves and stubby fingers made operating the buttons a mess. I couldn't seem to press one without the other, and the water seemed murky and ominous. I started to worry about the mask, and breathing. I was about to say I couldn't do it, but Pendleton took over. She operated the air buttons, and took my hand. Jody, despite having a few issues finding a balance between up and down, followed behind -- wearing my fins in his face.

Slowly we made our way into another world. Little fish were everywhere. All shapes, some had the beautiful fins and colours you see in those pictures from the tropics. They paid no attention to us whatsoever, swimming within a hands-reach. I had some stressful moments, but was able to blow water out of mask and pop my ears to equalize the pressure, all with the security of Pendleton gripping my hand. Down as far as 22 feet, we spent half an hour weightless, floating inches above waving leaves of brown kelp, orange, purple, white and brown starfish, all kinds of crabs, sea anemones, white sea slugs, and fat sea cucumbers. We edged by a drop-off shelf, with but darkness on the other side.

Pendleton called diving a meditative state, and in a few (brief) moments of relaxation, I could almost feel it.

Back on top, it was high-fives all around. Jody was gung ho to go again "in a minute." For me, it might be a little longer. What I am going to do first is buy some quality snorkeling gear, and get more comfortable with a mask and breathing tube. Then I'll see, because being underwater was like a window into fantasyland, and I'm not ready to pull the drapes.

This is the latest in a series of Monday morning columns that will track what happens when a 58-year-old grandmother takes on participaction. For more on her adventures, go to www.timescolonist.com.

UNDERWATER WORLD IS YOURS TO EXPLORE:

How to get to the bottom of the sea, and like it

- The Discover Scuba Diving program, which is available most anywhere offering diving around the world, is a great bang for your buck, especially if you're not totally committed to the underwater scene. Some outfits, such as Rockfish Divers, offer both pool and ocean dives, while others just do pools. All gear is included. The cost is around $150. Many recreation centres include diving in their program guides. As Elly Pendleton said, it's a way to learn about how both the gear and your body work underwater. (Mine, I found out, could use a little work).

- The official step is taking an Open Water Diver course. This, for approximately $450, includes classroom and pool sessions, and four open water dives. At completion, you are certified to dive up to 60 feet anywhere in the world. The advanced course gets you down to 100 feet. Often those who start with the Discover session can get a discount if continuing with the open water course.

- Look for PADI instructors. The Professional Association of Diving Instructors is the designation standard around the globe. For comprehensive information -- in 19 languages -- on diving, links and even an online course covering the classroom part of the Open Water Course, go to the PADI website at padi.com. There are all kinds of different diving options in courses ranging from becoming an instructor to underwater photography.

- Despite not being a tropical island, the waters around Vancouver Island are teeming with life. Naturally, diving in places like Race Rocks, where currents and tides play havoc with the water, need an advanced level of expertise, but quiet waters such as Saanich Inlet are perfect for exploring. According to the recent Sidney Dive Expo, there are more than 100 dive sites just around Sidney alone.

- It's not necessary to be a top physical specimen (see photos this page) or a great swimmer to be a diver, but reasonable health and ability, and knowing your limits, are important for safety's sake.