By Jess Cramp
Jess with a hawksbill.
As I lay there, face down on the bottom of the passage, I reveled in the quietude of my breath under trillions of gallons of seawater. I was alone and I was content. I knew they would be searching for me and with any luck, they’d find me before my teeth started to chatter.
Not long ago, my reintroduction to SCUBA diving was exponentially more nerve wracking than I ever let on. I talked myself through every single slow breath, while my heart threatened to claw its way out of my chest: “You’re ohhhhh kayyyyy, this is FUN, remember? Inhale-Mississippi and Exhale-Mississippi.” I had tried to tell him I was nervous, but, because he perceived me fearless in other activities, the creep barely acknowledged my whimper. So under I went, cloaked in invisible fear, but determined as hell to overcome it.
And as I kicked to the bottom today, I finally remembered to celebrate my little victory. I was over the hump of being fearful, diving multiple times per week, advocating for a nation-wide shark sanctuary and… with my new friends at Pacific Divers, I had started my Divemaster certification in the Cook Islands, whose coastal sea I was now beneath.
"30 meters, I'm afraid of you no more!"
The water was warm, with visibility pushing 100 feet. The dive site was formed by an old river, which flowed from the top of Rarotonga’s cloud mountains. The fresh water river created a passage—a slim opening in the reef—that twice daily formed a strong current to empty the turquoise lagoon. It’s one of the best spots to see sharks, sea turtles and eagle rays on the island, but, on this particular day, it’s the scene of a rescue.
I rolled my head slowly to the side and smiled as I saw my rescuers, moving as if operated by machinery, compass in hand, buddy in tow. But this was not a real emergency you see. They were instructed to find an unconscious diver and bring her to the surface as part of their rescue training.
As I bid an ascending farewell to the sea floor, I remembered that in life, it’s the little victories, the ones you work through in your mind, that tend to carry the most weight. No one ever drowned in sweat.
Aww, makes me miss days as a diver. Too cold and dark and scary here in Santa Cruz, Monterey Bay. Would love to come over there to dive with you and all your finned friends! Keep it up, Jess!
Proud of you girl! I will never dive, I can barely/hardly enjoy snorkeling!
Awesome, but watch out for sharks!
I know exactly how you feel and I can barely snorkel
I dream of having that feeling – but I guess need to bite the bullet and go for it first. Someday!
I think divers are so brave! There is a lot of trust involved. I’m not even comfortable snorkeling! Thanks for sharing this, I think it will inspire people to move past their fears to take on new adventures. You’re like a mermaid on a mission.
[...] with here on the rock. I’ve also had a handful of blogs posted on Women’s Adventure Magazine (SCUBA blog) and on the Quiksilver Initiative site and soon I’ll be writing for the Matador network, which [...]