Motivation

No, that's not me diving the Blue Hole...yet. I recently got several CDs worth of pictures from our friend John Heinemann which included spectacular shots from the Guam dives. These pictures and the stories that went with them were my original motivation to get my own scuba certification. Since April, I have been working diligently toward that end. I am priviledged to be training with one of, if not the highest ranked PADI instructor in Taiwan, and let me just say, he's been putting me through my paces in the dive pool lately.


I told my mother I was facing several childhoold memories and fears at once. My old dislike of that stomach-turning-as-I-fall feeling surfaces when I must roll backward or giant stride forward into the water wearing 70 pounds of gear. My only recourse is to almost always go first before my dive buddy so I can get it over with. Also, I continue to need several minutes to adjust to the sensation of water pressing on me on all sides while I try to breath normally and not hold my breath. As a child I had a water phobia that would send me into thrashing, flailing, screaming fits of panic if anyone tried to draw me out into water above chest level. Feeling the water press against my chest would trigger a sensation of suffocation that was absoloutely terrifying. I was eight before I was able to work past this fear and join my younger brother in the deep end of the YMCA pool. It was a pivotal moment of letting go and trusting, and I find myself remembering those moments a lot.


Now, though, the main issue is not so much fear under the water as much as feeling awkward, clumsy and inept. More than anything, I hate looking foolish and can say that this dread of embarrassment, of holding up the rest of the group with my fumbling, has often kept me from persevering at learning new things. This is compounded by my old nemesis: I am, for lack of a better term, "spatially challenged." I am never 100% sure which direction is left or right and often have to look for a birthmark on my right hand to double check. Also, I will look at a mechanical object and have no idea how to make that object attach, open, or operate. I am sometimes unable to translate an instructor's directions into the motions to perform that task.


What I am saying is that while my dive buddy is diligently adjusting her buoyancy under the water, I am flailing around and floating away. When the instructor is telling me to kneel on the bottom and watch him demonstrate something, I am slowly, unstoppably falling onto my face because he's also just told me to stop flailing around and floating away. Thursday, we worked forever on getting me to hover in the mid-water, and when we surfaced, my teacher began to point out what I was doing wrong...again.... So, I did what any frustrated, emotionally-in-touch woman would do. I started to cry. Just a little. No sobbing, just a few tears and an inability to get anything out of my mouth except, "I need a moment." My poor teacher had the look all men have when a woman starts to cry. Sheer panic. He kept trying to make sure I was ok which only made me want to cry more. I just had to go take a hot shower and get a grip.


I did, of course, get a grip, and feeling a bit sheepish, resolved not to let my frustration keep me from my goal. Thursday night I got out the underwater pictures again, the pictures that had convinced me I was no longer content to paddle at the surface. They were all the motivation I needed. This lionfish is one of my favorites. Extremely dangerous but absolutely gorgeous. And underwater photography gives a second chance to be surprised since John's camera is able to restore the colors that become washed out beneath the water. What look like grays and browns are really vibrant reds and blacks, for instance. And the colors get even more shocking, with orange and neon green hues showing up on the tiny, slug-like nudibranches.


Hope you enjoy diving into these great shots as much as we have! First up are a nudibranch and a pygmy seahorse. Sometimes the tiniest creatures are the most amazing. John is able to find the details that others miss, like the seahorse camouflaged in the coral. He also photographed a clownfish hovering over its eggs. The close up shows the baby fish developing. Click to enlarge and see if you can spot what we think are their eyes. Finally, McLeod grabs a rest stop on a massive anchor and a sea turtle cruises out to open sea.