The Dive

It was much heavier than Chelsea remembered. The steel diving cylinders pulled down on her body so that her legs wobbled and threatened to collapse. This was just another reminder of what she was running away from — her own tired and heavy existence that dragged on and on, shrinking her sense of self just like the mass of gear that now clung to her frame. Chelsea tried to ignored the uncomfortable weight and picture herself already swimming in the deep blue sea.  

The olive-skinned instructor took off his old, floppy fisherman’s hat and slipped on his goggles; then gestured towards the water. It was time to get in. She had been diving many times, years ago with college friends, but she was tentative now. Chelsea bit onto the regulator and took two labored breaths. Had it felt this strenuous before? Was it the sun? The ill-fitting wet suit? Or was it that she was older and less enamored with the details of this kind of excursion? But she was here now, and it was paid for. Chelsea had used her hard earned salary for this trip. It wouldn’t be right not to finish the dive. 

The instructor initiated some light conversation as he made a final adjustment to her weight-load. He asked if it was her first time and Chelsea shook her head solemnly. Her mouth had gone dry. Whether it was strain or nerves or her own disquieting thoughts, Chelsea found it difficult to answer his friendly questioning with much more than a shake or a nod of her head. The man seemed to notice and did not press further. He was perceptive and Chelsea was grateful for that, relieved to be alone with her thoughts again.

After all, that was the reason why she came back to Lambai Island by herself. Etched in her mind as the blissful retreat of her youth, the unassuming outlying island was a safe place for her. Chelsea longed to be still. Perhaps it was necessary to use this time to look back and figure out how things had gone wrong; how her life had come to such a stand-still. But first, Chelsea braced herself and dived in after her instructor.

Down, down, down. She was sinking fast into the depths. Chelsea had entered the water after the man but she plummeted far below him now. Too. Many. Weights. Her ears popped with the pressure change and she fumbled with the controller to pump air into her suit pocket. Realizing his mistake, the instructor let out a large stream of bubbles to empty his lungs and reach her. But Chelsea had already stabilized at that point.  

He waved in apology and reached out to grab a few of her weights to put in his own suit pocket. Chelsea was unnerved but decided perhaps it was a compliment the man thought she looked thinner and lighter than she was. She replied with an OK signal, and then took account of her surroundings. 

This was a Level 3 dive according to the PADI brochure. Though Chelsea was certified, she now wondered if it was a good idea to sign up for a deep sea dive after being out of practice for nearly eight years. When she had attended National Kaohsiung University, Lambai was only a forty minute ferry ride from the nearby harbor. But since then, she had moved up north and become a city girl, paper-shuffling in a steely high-rise as a nondescript office worker. She woke up early and slept late, and her life had become an endless repetition of work and drinks with similarly detached co-workers. Chelsea knew she had no right to complain; Her salary was good and she lived in one of the most stylish neighborhoods in Taipei. But the simple things had become lost to her. Chelsea missed clean air and a slower pace of life. She missed walking out in slippers during trash pick-up time and waiting for the truck with all her neighbors. Before she had moved to the city, it had not occurred to Chelsea how precious those interactions were; laughing and chatting with simple friends who did not expect anything in return. The frenetic hum of the city she had once loved sounded so lonely now. And she could only run — far as she could to the torrid south, to Lambai and straight into the sea. 

The instructor stopped and gestured ahead. Lost in her thoughts, Chelsea was too slow to stop kicking her legs; She hurtled forward and bumped her head against his back. Chelsea waved in apology and adjusted her crooked mouthpiece. Then looking past his frame, she saw it — a great, sunken battleship. Chelsea craned her neck to see the lettering on the side but it was too rusted to make out anything. The vessel was so degraded, she guessed it must have been there for decades to be in such a state. Chelsea followed her instructor around the perimeter before he took out his underwater camera to snap a few pictures of her and the multi-colored fish nearby. Then onwards they went towards the next destination — Beauty Cove, a vibrant shoal atoll that lived up to its name.

The sea cave and nearby area was covered in a brilliant coral reef, and Chelsea soon found herself surrounded by swaths of sand patches, floating weeds and anemones. Schools of tropical fish swam all around while a few sneaky eels and an octopus hid in the crevices below. Chelsea’s lips twitched behind her respirator as she watched a lazy sea turtle float past and take a poop nearby. From her bulky gear and spluttering air bubbles, the sea animals took the cue to keep a distance from the pair of intrusive aliens in their midst. Chelsea smiled inwardly at their nonchalance as they went about their business. This was a new world for her, but it was just another day for the turtles, angelfish and sea worms. Chelsea wondered if sea creatures ever felt bored or sick of their lives. Perhaps she was like them — adapted to their surroundings for too long and no longer willing to try anything new, different, wonderful or strange. Was it so wrong to live that way? It was familiar and comfortable just like the salty ocean was to the spiky sea urchins and wavy green kelp.

As they approached the sea cave, the man suddenly dove down towards the reef. When he returned, he nudged her arm gently and held out a round, sparkly object. It was a wedding band, silvery and smooth, with what appeared to be a small diamond set in the center. It’s lovely, Chelsea thought. Whoever lost it must have been very upset. Though she had worked for many years already, Chelsea had never been in a long-term relationship. She went on dates when asked but ultimately neither her or the other person could muster the initiative to take things further than a casual fling. Work was too demanding. That was the excuse she liked to use. But Chelsea knew better now. If she wanted, she could have done more. She had wasted too much time scrolling her phone and waiting for life to happen. Maybe if she had been more proactive, she wouldn’t feel so lost and empty now.

Now Chelsea and her private instructor continued to circle around the coral reef. While he busied himself with taking a barrage of photos, she trailed closely behind, enjoying the view but still deep in her own thoughts. After a few rounds, the man led them inside the Beauty Cave for another photo op and then back though the rocky shoal towards the rusty, sunken ship. It was comforting to follow and not think about where she was going. Chelsea was satisfied to be in the cool sea while the sun blazed above. She felt light with the water supporting her and the man leading the way ahead, and she could not help but feel her heart sink as he pointed up towards the surface, signaling the end of their dive.  

Then it happened. First a labored heave and then the sensation of trying to inhale from a blocked straw. Chelsea glanced down and saw that the oxygen meter had bottomed out in the red. Trying not to panic, she flipped on the reserve. Nothing came out — still no air. What was going on? Had she switched her tank and drained the reserve without realizing it?

They were still over twenty meters down and Chelsea had made the worst amateur mistake. In her dreamy stupor, she hadn’t kept track of the gauge. And now she was in big trouble. The man swam ahead one…two…three meters with the gap between them growing by the second. Chelsea could no longer breathe.

She waved her arms in panic, trying to get the man’s attention. One by one, she emptied out the remaining weights in her wetsuit and dropped them into the depths. Chelsea tried to kick harder but her lungs were empty and she could not muster the buoyancy to float upwards. Chelsea prayed her instructor would turn back before she inhaled the salty water and suffocated. But her head was feeling light now and her vision had begun to blur. She could no longer tell if the dark figure ahead was swimming towards or away from her.

Just as Chelsea’s eyes rolled back and she was about to lose consciousness, she felt a strong grip wrap around her arm and pull her forward. In an instant, someone had ripped the useless regulator out of her mouth and stuffed another in its place; one that was spewing a life-giving stream of air. Chelsea nearly choked but managed a shallow inhale. The man patted her back and gestured for her to try again, so she did, breathing deeply this time.

Chelsea fought back the tears that now welled up in her eyes. The man continued to pat her softly as they took turns breathing from the respirator. Then very slowly, the diving partners floated up to the surface together. The pair drifted up at a lazy pace, taking their time to ascend so their bodies could decompress and adjust to the pressure difference. By the time they emerged, Chelsea had stopped crying and breathed steadily. 

However another challenge awaited her. After hours of floating weightlessness, the gravity of sweltering heat, steel tanks and a soaked wetsuit crashed down on Chelsea and sapped her of any remaining energy. So she decided to rest for a moment, gathering her strength and mentally prepared herself for the impossible task of pulling herself out of the briny water. The man smiled and waited patiently for her. He offered his hand but Chelsea shook her head. So he waited some more. Eventually, after the sun and clouds had shifted to a noticeable degree, she heaved with all that she could muster and managed to sprawl out on the stern of the small, white speed boat. The man helped her up and removed her diving vest, carefully detaching all the tanks and equipment. 

Then Chelsea looked up and studied his face for the first time that day. She saw that his skin was tan and smooth, and that he carried a very serious expression as he worked, putting away the gear and starting the boat. When Chelsea had perused the list of instructors from the company site, she had tried to select an experienced, older diver with good qualifications. But now seeing the man without his oversized fishing hat, she guessed he couldn’t have been much older than his late twenties.  

Her instructor noticed her gaze and smiled at her. Then he spoke for the first time in many hours. First he asked if she was okay and reassured her with his words. Then he told her that her pictures turned out very well and that she would like them. Shyly he admitted he also found her very pretty, and then left it at that. Chelsea said nothing but continued to observe the man she had spent the day with. He led her through the most splendid coral reefs and accompanied her in her lonely thoughts. He had saved her life.

It had been just past noon when the two of them set out to the wide, open seas. Since then, the beating sun had softened its glare and the skies were now streaked with a balmy blend of violet and coral. Breathing in the warm air that rippled across the lapis lazuli waters. Chelsea suddenly began to giggle, then chortle, then laugh out loud as she thought of all the worries and regrets that had plagued her... when there was eternity stretched before her eyes. She turned to her companion and smiled. When we get back to shore, do you want to take a walk with me?