Shortly after I became a PADI Divemaster I had the opportunity to take a customer out for a guided dive at one of our local beaches on Puget Sound. PADI calls this Discover Local Diving (a DLD). DLDs are common in the dive industry. The only thing unusual about this one is that this guided dive was my first one!
I was both excited and nervous. I had led practice, simulated DLDs before, but never a real one, and never fully on my own. The student, Johnny, had not been diving in a couple years and was anxious about their first cold-water dive. Johnny was a certified Open Water diver with over a dozen (that is not that many!) dives in warmer water. We spent quite a while on the beach talking through the dive plan, orienting him to the site, assembling our gear and going through a thorough pre-dive safety check. We talked about emergency procedures and what to do in case things went wrong (call 911, buddy separation plan, etc.).
I had picked a site that was shallow and known for having a lot of structures and sea life - to make for an interesting tour, and to minimize the risks that come with the ability to go deeper. I knew the site well and was comfortable navigating it. We got into the water and started by having Johnny perform a weight check in shallow water. He started with too much weight, so we took some out until he was properly weighted and then continued on our dive. I could see that his buoyancy skills were rusty as he would add air to his BC, pop up a bit, then vent gas and come back down to the bottom, then add gas to correct and repeat the process. This was not unusual for a newer diver. It can take some practice to get the hang of adding just enough gas to your BC to be neutrally buoyant.
Johnny followed behind while I led the dive. The visibility was not good. I could see a hazy 5-10 feet into the distance - which is typical for a Puget Sound dive site for much of our dive season. It's far enough that you can easily see a buddy who is right next to you, and you can see some fish and critters - but you cannot see into the distance, you often can't see the surface once you are a few feet below.
I was determined not to screw up this dive! Having a customer in my care was a big responsibility and I felt it acutely. I carefully checked the landmarks and my compass to maintain our heading, periodically looked over my shoulder to check on Johnny to make sure he was staying close and doing OK, and keeping track of our gas supplies. Meanwhile I would point out the local critters - plumose anemones, rockfish, Dungeness crabs, rock crabs, kelp crabs, pile perch, striped perch, colorful nudibranchs, sea stars, and sole.
We made some forward progress and were about 100 yards from shore when I looked back again to check on Johnny. Nothing. All that looked back on me was a hazy green shroud. Shit!
OK Kirk - don't panic. He's probably fine. Stop, think, then act. What do we do when we have a buddy separation? I forced myself to breathe. My mind quickly went to the unlikely worst case scenarios (he's dead over there, he lost the regulator and you won't ever find him) but I pushed the dark thoughts away and tried to regain my rational mind. We'd briefed what to do in the event of a separation on the beach. So I did it, fighting down the panic of losing a customer on my first ever solo guided dive.
Stop. Look for one minute. I had my flashlight on - it is dark underwater even though it was day time. I turned around in a full circle in my best impression of a lighthouse - searching vainly with my beam for any sign of Johnny and hoping that he would see my beam and swim toward it. Nothing. Just fish, sand, and green haze.
OK, after looking for a minute, ascend slowly and regroup on the surface. We weren't deep, so I made a slow ascent - and quickly made my way to the surface. I was praying I would find Johnny there. If not, things were about to get much more serious. Once my head broke the surface I again did a 360 - and quickly located Johnny - he was not more than 15 feet away from me, bobbing gently in the calm water. Dipping my head underwater I confirmed I could not see any trace of him through the haze. "Sorry! I saw your bubbles and knew you must be looking for me down there and might be worried. You told me if we got separated I was supposed to stay at the surface and wait for you" he apologized. "Johnny, thank you, you did exactly the right thing!".
We chatted about what had happened. He had gotten a little too buoyant and had popped to the surface before he could get my attention. Since he'd been following behind me I didn't see him. He decided he'd had enough for one day and we swam on the surface back to shore.
We conducted a thorough pre-dive brief that covered buddy separation, so we both knew what to do when we got separated.
Johnny followed my directions. When we got separated he stayed at the surface where it was easy to find him.
I conducted my search for a minute, and was able to find Johnny easily.
Despite my brain's best attempts - neither of us panicked! We followed our training.
After the dive, we debriefed how it went - what went well, and what we could improve, and what we experienced - so we could both learn from the experience and be better next time.
Why did we get separated? There were several factors. Low visibility and poor buoyancy control were the obvious ones. But those are the easy answers - what other deficiencies in our dive plan and communication had to line up to make this outing a near accident?
We did not position ourselves as a buddy team to be able to stay in contact with each other. If you are relying on keeping track of your buddy as an alternate air source and to make sure they are safe you had better be able to see them. Given that he was behind me - for most of the dive (whenever I wasn't looking over my shoulder) I couldn't see Johnny 90%+ of the time. I have since learned to dive shoulder-to-shoulder with dive buddies. I try to dive close enough that if either of us were to have an issue like a mask falling off - we could reach out to tap the other team member and get some help. Even shoulder-to-shoulder (instead of one in front, the other behind), the blind spots created by our dive masks make it hard to see each other without tilting your head to the side. So we try to keep our flashlight beams steady and in each other's view. If you can see a steady beam you know your buddy is right there. If the beam wavers, shakes or drops out of sight - it's time to check on your buddy!
I did not have a way to see behind me easily. I now carry a wrist-mounted rear-view mirror that helps me track divers who end up behind me.
We decided to dive even though the visibility was marginal. Was this decision smart or were we just lucky that it had a happy ending? For me personally, when it is shallow, calm, and I now have techniques in place to keep track of a buddy and I am comfortable in 5-10 foot visibility tracking a single buddy. But what if the visibility had been only 5 feet? What about 2 feet? What if I had 2 customers, or 4 customers? Consider what the limits might be for you and your situation and when you should call the dive and go another day. If you cannot have eyes on every member of your team (or dive class) it might be good to reconsider the plan. In Puget Sound low visibility has been a factor that has likely contributed to a number of recent dive fatalities.
We were lucky the surface was calm and the weather was clear. We could easily find each other at the surface. What if we had popped up to 3-6 foot swells (or higher) or whitecaps? Would we have been able to spot each other's 1-foot high black hooded heads among the sea? What if some fog had rolled in (not uncommon in the Pacific Northwest)? Plan for what you will do in adverse conditions. Check the weather report. Always carry visual signalling devices like an SMB or DSMB that can be seen above the swell. Have an audible signalling device like a whistle that can be heard even if you can't be seen.
Seeing Johnny's struggle with buoyancy at the outset I could have recommended a refresher course in a pool before we went diving in the ocean. He could have done the same - the dive industry recommends a refresher after about 6 months or more of inactivity.
Some details have been changed to protect my customer's privacy. The debrief structure in this blog is borrowed from The Human Diver - an organization dedicated to making diving safer by recognizing the human factors that have to come together correctly to make diving work.