I was a terrible SCUBA diver!

When I was living in Hawaii and working as a traveling nurse I decided to tag along with my buddies and learn to SCUBA dive.

It is a miracle that I am alive today.

(The title of this post says it all! )

In order to get a diving certification the novice diver has to do a set number of dives and perform specific skills...

I thought that I would join Rachel at Once Upon A Miracle today and tell this diving story. I am hoping you will join in this fun. I want to read a great story about you next!

This is my true story and I’m sticking to it:

A diving boat was floating on the turquoise tropical waters of Hawaii. The warm water was choppy and the dive master ordered his students into the water.

I tumbled backwards, into the water, from the edge of the boat. My feet flipped above my head and into the water, my body following.

The water was warm and clear. This should have felt comforting, but the swells were huge. As I rested at the surface, the water rose in giant peaks around me. The boat was intermittently obscured, as I remained at the bottom of the walls of water, looking up at the wave-like swells that never crashed into whitewash.

This is scary. I really don’t like this after all. Oh goodness, my stomach. Oh gosh, I am feeling so nauseated with this rocky ride.

Soon, I could see my dive master in the water. The other students were also bobbing at the surface. In a large gesture, the instructor motioned for the team to begin our decent.

Oh my gosh, I think I am going to throw up. Oh no, I don’t want to dive. But I can’t stay here…

I released the air from my flotation vest and down I went, submerging into the depths below.

I immediately went to the gently kicking feet of my dive master. Wanting to be close enough to grab him if the nausea worsened, I stuck to him like an undersea parasite.

Down, down, down. We finally reached a huge outcropping of ancient hardened lava. As volumes of gases emerged from the underwater flow of magma, hollow tubes were left behind.

The scenery was interesting, but the growing feeling of nausea distracted me and kept me from finding pleasure in the moment.

Oh, I am going to need to throw up. No, no! Pass nausea, pass!

When diving basics are taught to new SCUBA divers, instructions are given on how to vomit underwater. I’m not kidding! You are supposed to take a breath in the regulator (mouth piece), vomit into that mouthpiece (it will exit the same place that an exhaled breath exits), and then use the air in your lungs to blow the rest of the gunk out. I was not eager to see if I could perform this “skill” without DROWNING!

Soon, I had no choice, I needed to surface! Tugging on the foot of the instructor, I did the hand motion for “something is wrong”, pointed to my stomach, and then pointed to the surface. He made some motions to his assist and then accompanied me to the surface.

At the surface I…well…let’s just say, fed the fish. Sorry. Sorry!

(The dive master actually told me he never heard anyone vomit as loud as I did. Nice.)

“Julie, this is our last dive. Please, will you come back down. Let’s finish your skills. It won’t take long.” After a minute of contemplating my stomach, I agreed to return to the bottom.

The last skills went surprisingly well. All of the students were able to finish the list of things needed to complete their certifications. I was at the bottom for another 20 minutes or so. My stomach held out, not great, but good enough.

The ascent to the surface began after another gesture from our leader. Slowly, I began to head towards the light above. When I was about 15 feet from the surface I notice some long, translucent pink “ropes” surrounding me. Before I knew it, these slimy, thick strands were dragging along my body. Wherever they touched, I felt a sharp burning pain.

After rising to the surface, and nearly in tears, I pulled myself up the long ladder to the deck of the boat. I describe the underwater scene of being attacked by a pink alien to the boat crew.

“You’ve been stung by a Portuguese Man-of-War,” the crew member said “They are not dangerous unless you are allergic to them. They just hurt like heck.”

Soon another dive instructor brought over some meat tenderizer and coated my irritated skin with it.

As the boat headed to shore, I laid on the deck with my eyes closed, nauseated and in pain.

A single thought went through my mind...

This is the last time I'm SCUBA diving… EVER!