My first diving experience

by Leah Stella (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

A leap into the unknown India

We reluctantly stumbled out of bed at six in the morning for our first ever time diving. Since arrival, Gareth and I had been only learning diving theory whilst overcoming jetlag, and so we were excited to see more of the island. Midway through breakfast, Vidit ran into the dining area, exclaiming with his somehow aggressively happy demeanour that we should have eaten more breakfast, but now it was too late and we had to prepare our diving gear and rush into the tuk tuk to the dive spot. We were both so tired, kitting up was a completed haze. After we set off, Vidit turned to us from the passenger’s seat and began reviewing the diving theory we had learned so far. I tried my best to concentrate on listening carefully, though the whole tuk tuk ride was a sensory overload. Our trip to Havelock Island was in the middle of the monsoon season, making the morning air after a night of heavy rain below warm. The vehicle had rusted so much that the middle of the floor had completely eroded revealing the road beneath. Without windows and doors, the wind engulfed the entirety of its inside; but the sheer excitement of the journey ahead made me oddly grateful to be shivering. As we gained speed, I remember feeling suddenly awake, amazed by the sight of the towering lush green foliage either side of the dirt road. Some time through the journey, I noticed an old man standing roadside with his arm reaching out, suspending a white plastic bag. Though driving past him at full speed, in one swift movement, Vidit swipes the bag from the man, turns around and says ‘Samosa?’ whilst opening up the bag and revealing the golden brown triangles of pastry inside and still holding his full grin. I honestly can’t express how much I enjoyed the samosa I tried. It was perfect. The pastry was warm and crisp, containing an incredible, deeply spiced potato filling. I only wished it wasn’t so early and my stomach could handle eating the whole bag. On our arrival at the dive spot, Vidit urged us into the water. I had imagined my first descent underwater to be calm and peaceful, but it was completely the opposite. I found that I started to panic almost immediately and resulted in barely floating on the surface, struggling to breathe. Vidit noticed my anxiety and gently held my arm, gesturing the breathing techniques from class. I immediately began to calm down and within what felt like seconds found myself completely submerged with Vidit holding both mine and Gareth’s arm. As we descended, I watched the water develop into a deep blue and its surface move further away, our air bubbles chasing after it. When we reached the bottom, we exchanged the ‘okay’ hand signal and began to swim alongside the sea floor. Noticing vibrant reef fish drifting peacefully along the reef, it hit me that I was in a different world. Looking ahead at the vast, deep blue Andaman sea, I felt tranquil, there wasn’t a sound. For the rest of the dive, Gareth and I tried to follow Vidit gliding gracefully along the route he had planned for us, stopping occasionally to practise our diving skills. Heading towards the end of the route, I could hear a light pitter patter. I looked up and ascended slightly to watch the monsoon that had poured onto the surface. The raindrops were huge on collision, but I was amazed at how faint the sound was underwater. I gazed intently at the silver light diffracting around the downpour; I still vividly remember the overwhelming feeling of warmth and safety I had never felt before, in the otherwise silent water. Once the monsoon had settled, we ascended to the surface. At the shore, the smell of sea salt and samosas was warming. I only realised then that since putting on my mask I hadn’t been able to smell, and that I was incredibly hungry. Tucking into the remainder of the samosas on the way back to our accommodation, I really began to process the incredible experience I had and just couldn’t wait for our next dive.