Night Dive by Lukas Kamrath
Swimming thirty feet below the surface of water is daunting. Now imagine taking away your ability to see … anything. This was only my second dive since completing my certification several months earlier. I was still not fully comfortable with the feeling of sucking compressed air from a metal tank or clearing my ears and mask knowing that I couldn’t shoot up to the surface for a breath of fresh air. Here’s the thing -- this was only my second dive on The Great Barrier Reef in Australia and I was beginning to question my decision -- to dive at night.
The sun had fully set and the light of the moon reflected on the ocean waves in front of me. Sharks circled the “live-aboard” boat, our home for the next four days. I began to think my sister and mom’s decision to wait for the following day to try a night dive was the smarter choice. At least they could wait to see if people, in fact, came back from this crazy experience.
As I geared up, I tried to keep my focus on the task in front of me. I needed to make sure my tank, regulator and all my equipment was properly prepared and I could not allow my mind and nerves to take over. My mom encouraged me as I made the final checks to my BCD (buoyancy control device). Shaking, I made my way down the ladder to the water platform. I took a deep breath, cleared my mind and with one big step, entered the dark waters. Placing my mask into the water, I saw nothing but black.
As I began to descend, it felt as though I was on another planet, as though I was floating through space. I directed the beam from my flashlight from left to right as my heart pounded through my wetsuit. Green eyes gazed at me in the distance as adrenaline rushed through my body. I could barely see the faint outline of my guide’s tank. The unknown of The Great Barrier Reef remained a hidden mystery except for the couple feet in front of me, illuminated by my light. Huge fish called giant Trevally, drawn to my light, approached within inches of my face. More green eyes revealed themselves in the distance. And unlike the small ones in Moorea, these eyes belonged to massive eight foot bodies, Grey Reef Sharks, swimming in the darkness all around me. My breath suspended, I began to notice my group fading from my view so I kicked hard to catch up.
Darkness and the unknown was inevitable around every turn but slowly as time passed I noticed that I was beginning to relax and enjoy myself. Where my light shined was endless beauty and the sea life and walls of coral surrounding me were mesmerizing. As my nerves settled and the fear dissipated, a feeling of joy emerged. My level of comfort continued to grow as my doubts faded and I became fully present with what I was experiencing. As the dive came to an end and I resurfaced, my guide commented on the huge smile on my face. I have rarely felt such a sense of accomplishment. I’m learning that often you have to embrace the initial challenge and overcome your fears in order to have the best experiences in life.
