Dumb thing to do, that. Tapping wouldn’t change anything. She tapped again. 900 psi. When had that happened? Just a minute ago she swore she’d been just under half a tank. Taryn recognized the beginnings of concern, but checked them.
In two, three.
Out two, three, four, five.
In two, three.
Out two, three, four five.
Better, it was holding steady around 900.
Where was Jered? She finned her way out of the larger of the three rooms they’d determined were safe for exploration. At the far side of the medium room there was a stairwell clear enough to allow descent into the wreck’s lower hold. Her kicks guided her toward it. Maybe he was down there. Their dive plan had called for meeting up at the top of the wreck when they hit 1000. She checked her gauge again – 850.
Diving part way into the stairwell she glimpsed the yellow of his fins below and to the left. Perfect. Conscious of her breath rate she descended the stairwell and reached back to tap her tank with one of the metal D-rings attaching her compass to the BCD. The fin didn’t move. She’d have to go farther in. As she made her way below the stairs to the far side of the room she tapped her tank at intervals. Still no response. Something was wrong.
Coming alongside him, She noticed his eyes were closed and he was drifting at an odd angle against the ship’s wall. Somehow his regulator was still in place. She grabbed his gauge, her breathing accelerating without heed. 1200. Transferring her hand to his arm, she tugged gently. No response.
She looked down at her gauge – 800. Okay. Time to get up and out. She didn’t see any blood floating in the water near his head, but he was definitely non-responsive. She pulled alongside him and began maneuvering his body ahead of her up the stairs. At least the water made his 200 pound bulk less of a factor. Once she had him aligned with the stairwell’s entrance, she inflated his BCD slightly and pushed him up, following immediately. Safely in the middle room it was a straight swim through to the larger salon and out the front where large window frames offered the least hazardous exit. Safely out, but keeping one hand firmly on Jered’s BCD she realized she’d need to tie him off to her so she had both hands free to manage the ascent and keep them along the dive line. They didn’t have rope, but Jered had some longer device attachment strings and she had extra carabiners.
750. She checked his gauge again – 1100. Enough to buddy breathe off his tank during the safety stop. Up now. She inflated his BCD slightly again and began their controlled ascent keeping one hand on the guide line and the other on her dive computer. The needle of her gauge dipped into the red reserve area – definitely below 700.
In two, three.
Out, two, three, four, five.
In two, three.
At 60 feet she stopped their ascent for one minute. It was hard enough keeping herself stationary, managing Jered’s still unresponsive bulk was not helping. 500.
Finally, the minute was over. 60 feet and five minutes left. Here’s hoping. At 15 feet her gauge was dangerously close to empty. Jered still had 800. Not a lot, but enough. Keeping one hand on the rope, she reached for his secondary regulator. She’d never buddy breathed off someone without them knowing. Oh well, no choice. Two minutes left. Taking one more deep drag from her own regulator, she transferred her grip on the rope to the crook of her elbow and used her right hand to take it out while simultaneously pulling Jered’s backup toward her.
Please work, please work, please work.
She inhaled carefully – air! One minute left. 30 seconds. Time. She released the pressure of her elbow and followed the bubbles to the surface. Gratefully, she exchanged the regulator for the freedom of fresh air. She wasn’t sure she should or could remove Jered’s. Fortunately the captain of their boat was at the stern ready to help them out.
“He’s unconscious. I can’t lift him myself.” She called out. With a splash, Rafa hit the water and grabbed Jered by the BCD/Tank connection.
“I’ve got him. Take out the regulator if you can.”
“We’re attached, give me a sec.” She unclipped the carabiner she’d used to get him up with her and then pried the regulator out of his mouth. How he’d managed to keep the tension to keep it in even while unconscious was beyond her. Rafa swam his burden to the ladder and Taryn followed.
“Can you undo the weight belt?” Rafa grunted.
She did so. “Got it.” She handed it up to Rafa’s second, José, and then the mask. “Fins next.” These were harder, but after a moment she fumbled them off.
“I’m going to swim him over to the stern and see if we can get him up by the engine where it’s a bit closer to the water level. I may need you to push too.” Rafa directed.
Taryn nodded and complied. José returned from stowing the other equipment and passed a rope to Taryn.
“Tie it under Jered’s arms once we get the BCD and tank unstrapped. Rafa will work him out of it one side at a time.” This done and the BCD stowed, José returned to the stern and between the three of them they finally heaved Jered onto the deck of the boat. As soon as Taryn and Rafa were out of the water, José freed the mooring line and turned the boat toward shore.
While the above short story is a creation of my imagination alone, it was jointly inspired by WordPress’ Postaday prompt for today and my own experiences SCUBA diving in the DR after my teaching job ended. Following the recommendation of a visiting professor and RPCV whom I met shortly after I returned to Santiago for my second semester, I took five days and traveled to Bayahibe on the southeastern side of the island to complete a dive course. I’ve had my Open Water Diver certification since before I got out of the military (thanks to Todd!), but I hadn’t logged any dives since before we knew he was sick. Because of this, I decided that completing another course with an instructor would probably be the best way to travel and dive by myself, something I’ve never done before.
Five days later, I completed the PADI Advanced Open Water Diver course and now have a new certification and seven more dives added to my dive experience. Four were wreck dives – one of which was at night and two of which were deep dives at 100+ feet, and the others were underwater navigation (somewhat easy for a former Nav), fish-ID, and gorgeous reef dives. I also discovered that doing a dive trip is one of the best ways to travel solo! Since boat dives generally require at least 2 or more interested divers, it’s an outstanding way to meet like minded people also out for adventure. Dive towns are fun places to hang out too.
On my second deep wreck dive, I actually nearly did run out of air and had to buddy-breathe off our guide for a bit at the final safety stop. As a result, one of my dive companions gave me some much-needed and extremely helpful breathing instruction so that my final dive was much more successful as far as air management went. The last dive also revealed some amazing sea life such as dozens of sea stars, a glimpse of a black and yellow polka-dot moray eel, little coral jack-in-the-box fish that hide when you pass a hand close to them and then pop back out, romantic butterfly fish who always travel in pairs, retiring flounders, minuscule jellies that don’t sting, and myriad other beautiful sea creatures and corals.
Unfortunately, I did not have an underwater camera with me (something I definitely need to rectify sooner rather than later), so most of the memories are in my mind alone. However, the first and last set of pics are representative of what I saw and the shoreline is actually Bayahibe. Can’t wait to go back!