Under the Red Sea: learning to dive

Growing up in Minnesota, I didn't have frequent access to the ocean, nor was it something I thought about a lot. We had plenty of lakes, but I hated swimming in lakes. They’re often dirty and I always felt like something was going to come from the deep and pull me into the murky depths. This scenario may or may not have been inspired by a long season of Goosebumps novels and a proclivity to Clive Barker horror novels.

‍

Needless to say, I developed a fear of the ocean. Snorkeling, which is often thought of as a delightful way to get closer to aquatic creatures and experience the sea, just made it worse. Any time multiple fish swam past or the water became full of sediment, I would start to panic. I couldn’t breathe well with the snorkel and was always choking on water and flailing wildly trying to get the snorkel back in place while simultaneously wiping sunscreen and saltwater out of my eyes. (Spoiler alert - even after learning how to dive, I still find snorkeling cumbersome and painful.)

‍

At one point in Playa Baru in Colombia, where the water is a crystal clear, brilliant blue and you can see to the bottom, I found myself swimming, panicked over patches of seaweed because I was terrified of what would get me if I went over them. Not a great look for a 30 year old.

‍

Since I’ve started traveling and especially during my time in Cambodia, my friends and travel buddies have often been getting their dive certifications and raving about scuba diving. However, I’ve always found ways to justify not doing it; it’s too expensive, my ears are sensitive, I don’t have enough time on this trip, etc.

‍

That all changed when I decided to head to Egypt where I would be living on the Red Sea, one of the best diving destinations in the world. In the intro call with the group I was traveling with, I proclaimed that I wanted to get my dive certification. I think my mouth was moving faster than my brain, but I had committed in front of 20 other people.

‍

For the first two weeks in Dahab, I watched my friends go diving every single day and come back excited and bonded over their extraordinary experience. And, while their excitement should have made me stoked to finally do something so cool, it just made me anxious. I kept feeling like I was missing out, but I was also too scared to actually commit to diving. I’d just think, “Some people aren’t cut out for diving. You, Maria, are probably one of them.”

‍

In somewhat of a “I already committed and I’m only doing this to prove to myself it’s possible, and I don’t actually want to do this,” moment, I signed up for the full scuba diving certification, not even a discovery dive to see if I liked it… straight into the fire. Scared. Anxious. I thought about nothing else for the next week, even while on vacation in Jordan.

‍

‍

Looking back, and after sharing this story with a fellow Wildside editor, I’ve come to realize that I wasn’t trying to escape the thing, scuba diving, in this case, I was just scared. Scared of looking foolish, scared of not being able to do it, scared of something I didn’t understand. If you don’t try, you can’t fail or succeed. So, I avoided trying. Looking back, it wasn’t a reflection of how I felt about diving, it was a reflection of how I wasn’t willing to face my fear or take the next step. I thought I was cultured and experienced enough, and that I didn’t need to do this if I was unsure or fearful. But, it was important; it was more important than I ever thought.

‍

Our instructor was a charming, fit Egyptian man, Mohamed Ali. He’s calm under pressure, quick to smile and very slow to ever find problems. Perfect for two anxious girls. Up until the moment we got in the water, I could think about nothing else besides what could go wrong and my nervousness.

‍

It became clear that I was in an ongoing battle to manage my fears and anxieties around something I didn’t know how to do and in a situation where I had no control. A terrifying thought when you don’t trust yourself. I had to let go and accept that I was learning, that I would be the novice for a while, and that I had two trustworthy guides, Mohamed and myself. If anything went wrong, it would be me who would control the response and situation.

‍

When we stepped into the ocean, Mohamed brooked no argument when he gave the sign for descent and left me short of breath and panicking at the surface. So, I descended with him before he got too far.

‍

‍

I loved every single second of that dive. Even when my ears hurt so badly I thought I was never going to dive again, I fell in love with a place so incredible I don’t think I could ever do it justice with my words.

‍

Expressions and emotions underwater have to be managed carefully because you don’t want to overexert yourself. Overexertion means you start to breath faster and in gulping breaths, causing you to run out of air or seriously injure yourself. For an expressive person, being limited to hand expressions is an experience. You are muted. You just exist. I had no idea the world could be so quiet, yet so alive. I saw things I didn’t think were real.

‍

The underwater world is the most magical place I have ever witnessed and I will always go back. It’s awe-inspiring and humbling to see gardens of eels swaying in the ocean current, schools of colorful fish swarming exotic and dangerous looking coral, deep blue holes that have no end, and sea turtles floating and (even pooping) peacefully.

‍

‍

After finishing my first ever dive, I was so certain of myself and what I wanted. I wanted to explore the ocean, to test my boundaries, to meet each challenge with the certainty that I would try my best, to keep trusting myself, and to be present. I went on 12 dives in 8 days, exploring the blue hole, caves and caverns, doing night dives, and getting my advanced certification not because it was needed to complete certain dives, but more so because I needed it. I have endless gratitude for Mohamed, the Red Sea, and myself, and that’s a spectacular feeling.