Saturday, August 11, 2007

The Murk of Porteau Cove

I was introduced to the thrill of scuba diving in Maui. It was there that I received my PADI Open Water Certification. Over several days I was required to study the dive manual, review video, and write examinations rather than bumming around the island. It was worth it! I was fortunate to experience five fabulous tropical dives in sublime conditions. I was surprised to learn from the local divers that some of the most exciting dive sites to be found are in the Pacific Northwest.

I finally dove into the British Columbia coastal waters after a three year hiatus. I received my PADI Dry Suit Certification in preparation for the dive. This helped me to muster the nerve to submerse myself into the cold water of Howe Sound. The refresh proved to be a valuable experience orienting me to the foreign conditions. Diving within a dry suit was daunting at first. What could possibly be worse than air ballooning around your ankles and thrusting you into an uncontrolled assent! I told myself "No worries, stay cool". I continued to practice in the safe conditions of a swimming pool until I was confident that I could control my buoyancy and respond to the unexpected. By virtue the mental challenge of the sport fuels the adventure. And so it was within the murk of Porteau Cove.

I decided to join the dive class that would be visiting Porteau Cove on Saturday. My wife and two year son accompanied me to the dive site. The road trip was less than two hours from our home. It was there that I met with the amphibious troop and we prepared for the dive. I slipped into a cumbersome suit and slung on the gear. The warm air and fair skies hung over the surrounding mountains. I began to sweat the beneath the layers of fleece and rubber that I wore to stay warm in the depths. Together we waddled to the boat launch to the left side of the pier and stepped cautiously into the water. We paddled backwards to the end of the pier and then the swift tide carried us quickly toward the buoy. It was there that we were to make our descent. Precariously steering myself through the flow I was able to grasp onto the buoy. I would have floated along at the tide’s mercy had I missed my grasp.

My first attempt at descending was unsuccessful. I did not have enough weight on my belt to pull me under. Fortunately, the dive master had some weight to spare and he tucked the lead bags into my buoyancy control device. On my second attempt I sank beneath the surface at an easy pace. I could barely see my hands holding onto the dive chain as the current pulled my body in the opposite direction. The murk was a blowing storm of algae that reduced the visibility to a mere few feet. I could not see the dive master or the others until my knees landed upon the surface of the wreck 40 feet below. Beneath the torrent layer was a dark aquatic world with a spattering of marine life.

My observations were hindered by the fact that my attention was focused towards the fins of the dive master. The adrenaline remained in my body following the descent. Racing through my mind were all the possibilities of what could wrong. I had to redirect myself to concentrated on the essentials. I then found good buoyancy, steadied my breathing and moved easily through the water. My mind was now into the adventure as we circled the sunken navy vessel and plotted throughout the Cove.

After 20 - 30 minutes we were signaled by the dive master to navigate our way back to the designated exit point on the beach. Following my compass I gradually ascended and made the safety stop. The current was more gentle within the shelter of the Cove. However, the murk persisted. My fins began to find the shallow bottom and I peered out of the water. I then stumbled along the barnacled beach to the stairs of the pier. Atop of the stairs my wife and son greeted me with a smile and a kiss. I was glad to have survived the first adventure.

An hour later I was back underwater!