Once Upon a Dive
originally published March 31, 2017
So, what would drive someone to want to learn to scuba dive at ... (I can't even type it) 50 (eep!) years of age? Crack a beer and let's chat.
Water has always been a big part of my life. Summers at the lake house, weekends at the Jersey Shore (way pre-Snookie), plunging into our backyard pool - these are my earliest childhood memories. In the mid 70's our family moved to South Florida. There I could be in the pool practically year round, my parents often remarking that I spent more time under the water than above it.
As a teenager, I dreamed of joining the high school swim team... only to have the team disband the summer before my freshman year. Bummer. But, my pals and I were always heading to the beach, taking the bus or piling as many as could fit into whoever's car we could borrow. Water, water everywhere.
My parents divorced when I was in high school and one of my cousins moved in with my dad and me. He was working his way through his training at the Fire Academy, and became a rescue diver (something that comes in handy in a place filled with canals and ponds that people are always driving their cars into). Soon, there was a stockpile of fins, masks, and air cylinders populating our patio. I snorkeled a lot, but never dove. My parents were old school and the world of diving seemed like something of a boys club. Still, I loved nothing more than the feeling of water against my skin, watching fish flit past my feet under the waves.
Fast forward a million years, and I had grown up. In 2014 I was newly divorced and back on the dating circuit. That was how I met The Guy. The Guy was the manager of a local scuba shop and found his joy in introducing everyone he met to his beloved world of diving.
Guy and I shared a love of the ocean and the creatures in it, a drive to protect and preserve the natural world (and chilling by the firepit listening to G. Love but, I digress). Watching and listening to Guy talk about diving was like seeing the world through new eyes. To see him light up and hear the excitement in his voice, it wasn't hard to get caught up his exuberance, and to make me wonder how I, a South Florida child, hadn't learned to dive before.
Next up... the first step
Water has always been a big part of my life. Summers at the lake house, weekends at the Jersey Shore (way pre-Snookie), plunging into our backyard pool - these are my earliest childhood memories. In the mid 70's our family moved to South Florida. There I could be in the pool practically year round, my parents often remarking that I spent more time under the water than above it.
As a teenager, I dreamed of joining the high school swim team... only to have the team disband the summer before my freshman year. Bummer. But, my pals and I were always heading to the beach, taking the bus or piling as many as could fit into whoever's car we could borrow. Water, water everywhere.
My parents divorced when I was in high school and one of my cousins moved in with my dad and me. He was working his way through his training at the Fire Academy, and became a rescue diver (something that comes in handy in a place filled with canals and ponds that people are always driving their cars into). Soon, there was a stockpile of fins, masks, and air cylinders populating our patio. I snorkeled a lot, but never dove. My parents were old school and the world of diving seemed like something of a boys club. Still, I loved nothing more than the feeling of water against my skin, watching fish flit past my feet under the waves.
Fast forward a million years, and I had grown up. In 2014 I was newly divorced and back on the dating circuit. That was how I met The Guy. The Guy was the manager of a local scuba shop and found his joy in introducing everyone he met to his beloved world of diving.
Guy and I shared a love of the ocean and the creatures in it, a drive to protect and preserve the natural world (and chilling by the firepit listening to G. Love but, I digress). Watching and listening to Guy talk about diving was like seeing the world through new eyes. To see him light up and hear the excitement in his voice, it wasn't hard to get caught up his exuberance, and to make me wonder how I, a South Florida child, hadn't learned to dive before.
Next up... the first step
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