Dive Stories From Back In The Day

[ricki]

A post and response from: http://www.scubaboard.com/forums/new...eply&p=4886246

Originally Posted by Paladin954

I pulled this one over from another thread I posted on:

(It happened in the summer of 1978. The equipment consisted of a Healthways steel 72, Aqua-Lung Aquarius reg, White Stag Deep SPG, USD Atlantis mask, USD Otarie fins, 5 pounds on a USD weight belt, USD diver's knife. I had just bought the Aquarius and this was my first dive with a single hose reg.)

One year, when I was just a kid, my family went to Tennessee for vacation. While we were there, we visited Tuckaleechee (sp?) Caverns. From that time on, I was fascinated by caves. By the time I reached my early twenties, I had spent thousands of hours exploring underground and crawling through some pretty tight places. I even became a member of the Tri-State Search and Rescue Team, specializing in cave rescue.

So, when my friend and I discovered a cave in the rock wall of a man-made lake where we were diving (I'm not going to say where because I don't want to tempt anyone), we decided to check it out.

Yeah, I know. We were young and stupid. I should've known better.

Anyway, Fuzz led the way and I followed him into the cave. The passage was tight and Fuzz kicked up the sediment to the point where I couldn't see squat. I groped along behind him, hands out in front, trying to keep up. Then, I suddenly found myself in clear water and Fuzz was nowhere in sight. I switched off my light to see if I could detect his light. Nada. Black as Hades. At that moment, I felt my tank grate against the ceiling for an instant, then come free.

I realized that I must have taken a side passage and was separated from Fuzz. I started to back out, but couldn't. I was stuck. My tank was lodged in a depression in the ceiling and I couldn't move. My first thought was to simply unbuckle my harness and slip out from under the tank, then pull it out of the cave after me, but the passage was too tight and I couldn't get my hand down to my waist to release the buckle. I thought about cutting the harness away at the shoulders but my knife was strapped to my leg, out reach.

Out of options, all I could do was watch the needle of my SPG as my air slowly ran out. I thought about my parents and my girlfriend. I thought about how stupid I was and I wondered how long it would be before someone found my body.

At 500 psi, my J valve started honking its low air warning. At 300 psi it would cut off and I couldn't reach the rod to turn on the reserve. Panic was about to set in when I felt something moving along my left leg. It moved up to my waist and I felt a tug at my harness buckle. Then, something grabbed my ankles and yanked me backward and free. I pulled my tank after me and followed Fuzz back out to open water. On the way, I had to open the reserve. When we were back on the boat, I had this overwhelming urge to give ugly ol' Fuzz a kiss. I settled for a hug and a handshake.

Originally Posted by RickI

Great story, congratulations on making it out! A number of us have had a Fuzz intercede when we needed it most. Glad he was able to find you. Do you recall his side of the story, i.e. when he discovered you weren't there and how he went about finding you?

My first dive in Warm Mineral Springs in 1977 or so, I did a tour of sorts with the lead archaeologist, Sonny C0ckerell. Went down a bunch of the fixed lines to various paleo and archeo digs in the springs. More about that later. Anyway, I recall standing on the bottom near one of the sources at around 230 ft. with an inclined rock ceiling overhead and pretty narc'd. I was checking out the scenery, on air, looking at the pressure gage, etc.. but felt no compulsion to move or ascend. Was ok just to stand there, not sure if I would have moved or not. Sonny came along gave a thumbs up and that is what we did. A lot milder than your experience, still narcosis can do that sometimes. Keep you somewhat aware in la la land but lacking the incentive to get out of Dodge. Had it another time at about 170 ft., even forgot I had a large hogfish on a spear. Had been away at school and deep diving for many months contributing to things.

Please keep the stories coming. High drama, a narrow miss or just an unusual but memorable experience, lots of great tales from back in the day.

[ricki]

and another from: http://www.scubaboard.com/forums/vin...stories-3.html

Originally Posted by David Wilson

Here's an anecdote I've retrieved from a forum other than Scubaboard. It relates to a recent event when I was vintage snorkelling.

For many years I did my swimming in the lakes of Minneapolis in the American Upper Midwest, where I travelled each summer to spend time with my brother, who lives and works there. During the very hot summers there, an hour's dip in one of the lakes was just "what the doctor ordered".

In 2005, the doctor ordered something different, an operation to remove my cancerous prostate gland. After years of never darkening a medical practitioner's door, I found myself undergoing major abdominal surgery for the first time in my life. Fortunately for me, I had a full recovery. As I was then in my late 50s, the health professionals began to take more of an interest in me and I began to get annual checkups. I was advised during one of these sessions to take more exercise.

I've never seen any point in exercise just for the sake of it, so I decided to pursue the two physical activities that appealed to me most: walking and swimming. In the case of walking, I soon found an old colliery waggonway with agreeable views and pleasant rural surroundings, a walk several miles in length, ending with a visit to a shop where I could buy my morning newspaper. As for swimming, I tried my local swimming pool, but hated the excessive heat, the fact that I was expected to swim up and down roped-off lanes in the same boring way as I had done in my youth, and that I wasn't allowed to swim with fins, which I love using.

One early morning I decided to drive to the coast to go swimming off a sandy North Sea beach. Clad in my Hydroglove replica vintage drysuit and wearing an oval dive mask, all-rubber full-foot fins and a simple J-shaped snorkel, I enjoyed one of the best hours of my life swimming about in the waves. The bay where I swam was almost devoid of wildlife, despite public notices warning of the possible presence of seal pups and requesting dogwalkers to keep their pets under control. Strands of seaweed and a few small jellyfish were the only flora and fauna I came across and I felt pretty safe from the latter thanks to my drysuit and the fins on my feet. After my swim I emerged warm and refreshed, determined to repeat the experience each weekend morning, weather and sea-state permitting.

One subsequent weekend morning I went down to the coast for my swim in the early morning, the sun barely above the horizon. I chose to swim at dawn because I valued the solitude and I didn't like an audience. I put on my suit and other gear, walked down to the sea's edge and proceeded to swim. A while later I turned round to face the coast and spotted two policemen gazing seawards at me. They waved and I slowly came ashore. They came over and explained that they had observed me in the water and wondered what I was doing. They presumed that I was either attempting suicide or that I was a North Korean spy landing from an enemy ship far out to sea. The North Korean spy idea wasn't too far-fetched, considering I still swim with the old-fashioned black snorkelling gear that was popular in the 1950s and 1960s. The two bobbies expressed surprise that I had chosen that particular bay to swim as there were no fish, or any other wildlife for that matter, to observe. I replied that the idea was to get fit and that the glorious view of the rising sun was enough of an incentive for me to swim there and at such an early hour. The policemen and I then parted company, I relieved that I hadn't broken some obscure by-law or "health and safety" regulation, they pleased to have had a "human seal" break the monotony of their night-shift.

I've swum regularly in the same spot for over four years now, but never again have I had an encounter with our "boys in blue". However, I'm still regarded with some suspicion by the local beach dogwalkers. I'm always concerned when I see their canines being let off the leash because they always seem to rush, barking in my direction when I'm splashing away above the waves. I have to say, though, that the worst that's ever happened to me dog-wise is when one pooch picked up and ran away with one of my spare fins. The owner retrieved it and replaced it, sheepishly, on my pile of clothing.

I'm looking forward to resuming normal business as soon as spring comes round. My suit, fins, mask and snorkel are waiting in the cupboard, ready to come out of hibernation when it's time. The great thing is that I'm now retired and don't have to wait until the weekend if the weather's good and the sea's calm!