• -Co-workers refer to you as ‘flipper’ behind your back…and you sort of like it.
• -You use the words Carcharodon carcharias *  in casual conversation.
• -Around the dinner table, you asked everyone what they did topside that day.
• -You lack the funds to fix your car dent and leaky house roof, but your new $1,200 Atomic Cobalt Nitrox Integrated Dive Computer really rocks.
• You’ve got so many sea-themed tattoos that you look like an aquarium when you walk.
• Your Facebook and Twitter accounts list your location as “the ocean.”
• You consider dive boat rust to be a lunchtime condiment.
• You never saw a shark you didn’t like.

*Just for the rest of you, Carcharodon carcharias is the Latin name for the great white shark.

Recently I was scanning the scuba catalogs for “Christmas Wish List” items and came across several pieces of “gear” of dubious purpose. Though they may look appealing on a glossy page, these trinkets are destined to be abandoned under a boat’s bench seat sometime in the future by a frustrated diver with a lighter wallet. Links to these actual products have been provided for your enjoyment.

 Dive Ireland Classic Men’s Thong – For the diver who wants to proudly display their love of the sport to…hopefully not too many people.  According to the website, this classic Christmas gift “covers sweet spots without covering your assets.”  Just $12 immortalizes your commitment to diving Ireland by emblazoning it on your snorkel.

Scuba Lobster Inn (W/Zipper) – “The most popular collection bag for lobstering.” Lobsters check in, but they can’t check out. When you are ready to eat, just unzip and boil. Comes in your choice of 3 colors, none of which you can see underwater.

Cold Water Mittens – 7mm neoprene mitts by Edge with velcro/elastic wrist closures. Warm, but not terribly useful if you need to use any fingers underwater. Plus, your little kid mittens will most likely draw the ridicule of fellow divers. Topside activities with this gear include making snowmen.

Aqua Maracas – “Shake things up next time your down! This lightweight, compact, underwater signaling device is audible over 30 feet away.” It’s a perfect complement to your Scuba Samba and guaranteed to frighten all the fish.

“Dive Naked” License Plate – Conceptually I like the idea, but in practice I would think there might be some chaffing associated with this activity. What I know for sure is that NO ONE at my place of employment needs to see me pull into the parking lot with this on my car.

5-Page Wrist Dive Slate (w/free extra pencil!) – For those who are inspired to write an entire novel while underwater or carry on a lengthy conversation on existentialism with their dive buddy.  Or perhaps it is meant to capture a checklist of scuba steps: Step 1 – Inhale, Step 2- Exhale, Step 3- Inhale…People who bought this gift should have also bought the Guide to Underwater Hand Signals.

The Shark Shield – “The Shark Shield incorporates two electrodes, which project the field from the unit and thus create an invisible protective shield that surrounds the user…” Sort of like one of those canine electric fences, but for sea life. Order in the next ten minutes and we’ll include a free can of Turtle Repellent. One question: if it is invisible, how do you know its working?

Even the Great White Shark looks tame in comparison to this beast...

Scuba divers frequently get eaten by giant ______.

  (Fill in the blank: giant octopi, sharks, man-eating conchs, radioactive seahorses, etc.)

FALSE.  You have a better chance of being killed by a vending machine than being eaten by a shark.  Seriously.  Jacques Cousteau once said that “Man, of all the animals, is the only one to consider himself a great delicacy.”  Just because there are some large predatory animals living in the oceans does not mean that they are gunning for every diver that jumps in.  Divers, in general, are too big and too loud (i.e. intimidating) for most creatures to consider us a food source.  Not to mention that a human’s bone/muscle mass to fat ratio is darn near indigestible and definitely not appetizing, even to a great white shark.  This is not to say caution be damned: I would advise against bronco riding a bull shark and parading about the sea floor with an octopus as a fashion accessory.  But, to answer the question from countless co-workers, airplane seatmates, relatives, and even the little old lady who walks her chihuahua by my house every day at 9am, no, I am not concerned that something will eat me while scuba diving.

Chicks dig divers.

TRUE.  Of course it helps if the diver in question is buff, tan and 22.  If you are 50, hairy and can’t fit your beer gut into your wetsuit, you may find this myth to be false.  Interestingly, many dive boats actually have a larger proportion of men on them than women.  So, ladies, if you are looking to meet some new and interesting people, scuba might be the thing for you.  If you don’t make a love connection, at least you got some good exercise and explored a bit of the incredible ocean.  It’s got to be better than speed dating.

Diving is a great opportunity to do something with my husband/wife/partner/sister/brother/child/friend/good looking neighbor, etc.

MAYBE.  Divers learn at different paces, so just because you and the target of your affection start out in scuba lessons together does not necessarily mean that you will progress at the same pace or enjoy the same type of diving.  There is always at least one person on every dive boat whose former dive buddy just wants to sit on the beach, play golf or find the bottom of their margarita glass (repeatedly).  Fear not, however, if you find yourself in this solitary predicament.  Divers are a welcoming bunch.  You will most likely be able to trade in your current stick-in-the-mud friend for a shiny new dive buddy who shares your interests.

All scuba diving must be dangerous.

FALSE.  Divers tend to choose their most extreme scuba experiences to share with others.  Tales of swimming vertically down the Devil’s Throat in Mexico or swirling in the murky Cauldron of Death in Chile make for impressive bar room stories more so than floating along in the 10 foot deep Flower Gardens.  Sitting on the shallow ocean floor watching a sand eel pop its head in and out of its hole just doesn’t extract the same listener reaction as the bull shark that tore a chunk out of your fin as you escaped towards the dive boat.  Scuba can be as dangerous or as benign as the diver chooses, based on the dive profile, resident critters and skill level of the diver in question.  Like many things in life, there is a comfortable level to be had for everyone.

Learning to dive can turn you into James Bond or Scuba Steve.

MAYBE.  If you just don’t have a cool bone in your body, no amount of bottom time will help.  But, if you are looking to add a little spice to an otherwise tame existence, scuba might be for you.  You’ll meet new people.  You’ll have something new to talk about around the water cooler on Monday.  You might even find you are motivated to go to the gym a bit more (so next time you can actually lift that tank).  Note: spy gadgets and Bond-like attitude are not included in standard scuba gear.

Divers are required to have 3-day old stubble, a bad crew cut and a tattoo that says Mom.

FALSE.  Yes, once upon a time scuba was reserved for the “heartiest” of humans who grunted and spat, while grabbing their god-given jewels before entering the water.  Also, there was a time when most people thought the world was flat.  So…has anything Nostradamus promised come to fruition lately?  No?  Then let’s let go of this Neanderthal notion of diving, shall we?  Most dive boats hold a healthy combination of divers that are old and young, male and female, and (possibly concerningly) a wide variety of physical fitness.  Scuba diving is now done (literally) on the 4 corners of the globe in every language you can name.  I will say, however, that many die-hard divers have aquatic themed tattoos.  Why?  I have no idea, other than their conviction for the sea.  I don’t have one myself, but am shopping for one now.  I’m thinking a whaleshark with a wave.  Maybe a Mom whaleshark.

Neoprene is not the most forgiving of fabrics...

I’ve braved hungry sharks, roaring currents, and unidentifiable dive boat food.  My dive buddy is known for pushing me in front of approaching predators with big teeth while he makes a quick getaway behind me.  On the whole, I am a pretty adventurous diver, not easily intimidated underwater.  But, I have never been able to conquer my fear of the great scuba diving beast: my wetsuit.

My concern falls into two categories: not having it on me and having it on me.  First, similar to chocolate and my big brown dog, I need a wetsuit.  Without it, no matter how similar the ocean temperature is to bath water, I get cold and then move to a shivering state faster than an octopus can strip a tasty clam.  In a last ditch effort to warm up I will swim back and forth like a crazed tuna, a maneuver that has gotten me “rescued” several times by dive masters thinking I was out of my gourd.

Dive boat personnel frequently get a chuckle out of my space suit. “You don’t need that thing,” they say. “There are enough monsters in the sea already!”  Easy there, buddy.  I didn’t make fun of your mismatching shoes or bad taste in tequila.  I know my limitations, especially when it comes to body temperature, so I schlep my 4mm suit with me to all dive locations no matter how small my suitcase needs to be.  1 pair of shorts, 2 shirts, 1 case of M&Ms, 1 wetsuit, and 2 weeks: no problem!

Which brings me to my second category of concern: the suits are, by design, tighter than NYC rush hour traffic.  They usually have a zipper, put there like bait to lure the diver into thinking they actually have a chance at getting into the suit.  I have heard that powder can sometimes enable the process, but no amount of talc could help me win this battle of The Bulge. 

Once on, the neoprene acts like kryptonite for a diver’s positive self image of their body.  It is so tight, one would think it acts like a girdle.  But, no.  Every hot fudge sundae and grilled cheese (with bacon) transgression is highlighted by the silhouette of the black suit against the white background of the inside of the boat.  I’m pretty sure it was a very thin woman’s idea to paint it white in the first place.  I try to overcome the inner tube effect by sucking it in until I realize there are some body parts that will not appear smaller no matter how much I deplete the atmosphere.

But then, the other divers on the boat put on their vests, specially crafted jackets that can be inflated with air for buoyancy.  Suddenly we are all equal again, an army of strange sea life covered in lumpy gear shuffling towards the back of the boat in our fins.  Splash!  I’m in, floating towards the Technicolor reef below, my surface insecurities far behind me.  Never have I felt, or looked, so good.

Neoprene is not the most forgiving of fabrics...

Creature of the Deep Terror (the Unknown Fish Phobia) -

 Rationally, I know that 99.999999999% of all creatures in the ocean have no intention (or appetite) to eat a human. We are too big, too bony and we tend to fight back when chewed. For some reason, however, my Creature of the Deep Terror tends to increase the moment visibility decreases. The minute I can no longer see clearly (say during a night dive or when the diver in front of me kicks up silt) I start to envision unknown sea creatures stalking me from the shadows, just waiting to use their teeth, tentacles or other persuasive parts to turn me into dinner. This phobia seems to be shared by many, as according to Jacques Cousteau: “Man, of all the animals, is probably the only one to regard himself as a great delicacy.”

Fear  of the Numismatic Museum – Many of the most pristine and prolific dive spots on the planet are located in very remote locations. When planning a dive trip to an out-of-the-way place, I have a recurring fear that my destination will be devoid of topside activities. This is not to say that I spend much time topside on scuba trips, but it is nice to have dry options for when the sea is too choppy or I need to get back on a plane within 24 hours. The Numismatic Museum is not the place where people with breathing problems go to study ancient inhalers, as I originally thought. The term ‘numismatic’ means the study or collection of currency. This extravaganza, located in Aruba, houses 30,000 historic coins from around the world. In an effort to protect these coins without using a vault the Arubans put the most boring name they could think of on the museum to deter any shred of interest or excitement about the place or its contents. I hear the name is working so well they are able to leave the doors unlocked at night. Places like this fuel my fear of topside boredom.

Creature of the Reef Terror (Known Fish Phobia) – There are certain reef dwellers that give me the willies. Unlike the Unknown Fish Phobia, I know exactly what these creatures are and where I can find them. Sea snakes freak me out, as do free-swimming eels (but for some unknown reason eels that are thoroughly parked inside a burrow are fine. Go figure.) Sea urchins make me uncomfortable, perhaps because they reflect my topside fear of needles. I also find highly-poisonous scorpionfish to be creepy, usually because I never seem to spot them until a divemaster merrily points them out. Just for the record, however, I want to point out that large animals, like sharks, rays and whales do not fall into this category. If any of these creatures are reading this post, I want them to know they are not scary and are welcome to join me on any dive.

Fear of Neoprene – My concern falls into two categories: not having my wetsuit on me and having my wetsuit on me. First, similar to chocolate and my big brown dog, I need a wetsuit. Without it, no matter how similar the ocean temperature is to bath water, I get cold and enter a shivering state faster than an octopus can strip a tasty clam. In a last ditch effort to warm up, I sometimes swim back and forth like a crazed tuna, a maneuver that has gotten me “rescued” several times by divemasters thinking I was out of my gourd. Which brings me to my second category of concern: the suits are, by design, tighter than NYC rush hour traffic. They usually have a zipper, put there like bait to lure the diver into thinking they actually have a chance at getting into the suit. I have heard that powder can sometimes enable the process, but no amount of talc could help me win this battle of The Bulge.

Back Roll Dread – A backroll is a highly efficient maneuver to get all divers into the water at once, thus addressing problematic currents or the lack of boat mooring facilities. As I stare out over the horizon, the water looks so very inviting. But once I turn around to face the center of the boat in anticipation of executing the backroll, the inspiration is replaced by panic as I imagine some great sub-aquatic drain plug being pulled, removing all water from the area. As the water recedes, I envision falling to the rocky bottom far below (don’t ask me what the boat is then floating on; my fear never really plays itself out that far) or landing in the jaws of some waiting predator that has been exposed. But then “splash,” I’m in, and the ridiculous phobia fades away as I acclimatize to the beautiful blue around me. I may have some irrational scuba phobias, but fortunately they never seem to last too long.

The Scuba Shuffle is an aquatic conga of sorts, but without the maracas.  The divers, who had plenty of time to suit up, all stood up at once due to some lemming-like intuition that drives divers’ behavior.  Invariably the wind picked up at that moment and the boat began to sway.  Queue the tin-pan music and the bongos.  While invaluable underwater, fins are the least graceful piece of sports equipment one can possess on land.  A diver can’t simply walk to the back of the boat and jump off, he or she must do a duck-like shuffle and flap, complete with the corresponding shrrrr-whup shurrr-whup sound.  Like me, the others in the conga line were leaning forward to avoid falling backwards from the gear weight, but appearing as if we all found something fascinating on the rear of the person in front of us.  Shuffle flap, shrrr-whup.

The boat continued to roll in the waves, picking up momentum as I shuffled past the more challenging boat features like the swinging wetsuit locker and the oblivious snorkelers with arms shooting in all directions at once.  Snorkelers are generally not welcome on dive boats because they always seem to be in the right place to create the maximum hindrance to divers transporting and preparing gear. Much to our dismay, almost half of the tourists on the boat were snorkelers.  We would consider using a different company the rest of trip. 

Rather than jumping in, a logjam of divers formed at the back of the boat due to various forgotten pieces of equipment and irrational fish phobias.  Like salmon in a swift current, the divers creating the jam could not get back upstream until the rest of the conga line passed. Shuffle flap, shrrr-whup.  Finally, it was my turn at the back of the boat.  I put my air regulator in my mouth, held my mask, and took a giant stride into the sapphire blue ocean.  Unfortunately, my over-excitement caused an extra spring in my big step, thus loosening my right fin, which went swirling into the depths unattended.  I can only imagine the fish thoughts below as they watched it sink to the bottom: “Oh look!  Decorations for the calypso party!”  One of the staff on the boat handed me down an extra fin and off I went into the blue.

Neoprene is not the most forgiving of fabrics...

Frequently after I end a great dive I wonder why more people don’t take up the sport of scuba.  Sure, there are your usual shark, drowning and wetsuit phobias, and not everyone lives near water worth diving into, but still – what excuse does the rest of the world have?  It’s not that I want to fill dive boats up to capacity world-wide (although that would be a nice boost to the scuba economy), but I really think people are missing out, especially when it comes to exploring the substance that covers 2/3rds of the world’s surface.  Therefore, I propose these 5 Good Reasons to go diving:

• You don’t need to provide your credit score to get a scuba tank – It’s not the cheapest hobby ever, but there are a lot more expensive ways to spend your time.  I think some people assume that a diver has to fork over a ton of bucks, especially in light of all of the gear needed, but it’s just not true.  And, many dive shops offer discounts if you book with them for more than one day.  It seems everyone is holding their hands out waiting to grab some of your hard-earned cash; make sure you are getting something life-changing in return!
• Voices don’t travel well underwater, so it’s easier than ever to tune them out – Pick your own brand of annoyances: politicians, fanatics, your in-laws, maybe even that nosy neighbor with the eternally barking dog.  Though topside you can’t escape them, underwater they are blessedly silent.  There is something incredibly zen-like about the lack of everyday sounds underwater, replaced by the more tranquil sounds of sea life, water and an occasional boat overhead. 
• A little bit of exercise that feels good might be nice – Some dives I have done, like a nice drift dive over Palancar Reef in Cozumel, are so mellow that I bet I burnt more calories sleeping.  Others, like those involving a roaring current or acrobatic acts to climb through wrecks, will leave you almost breathless and completely exhausted by the time the boat returns to the dock.  Scuba can be a great way to get some exercise.  Best of all, there is so much for your mind to absorb underwater that you won’t even notice you are doing something good for your body. 
• “Hey, there’s fish in there!” – Fish, inherently, live underwater.  Ship wrecks are, by definition, wet.  There are some incredibly interesting things to see in the ocean, but only if you take the time to go under the waves.  Squinting at an aquarium in your dry clothes just isn’t the same.

Keep your New Year’s resolution – Go ahead, look at Twitter or Facebook notations on New Year’s resolutions.  By far the most common stated intentions for 2010 are scuba diving, sky diving and losing 10 pounds.  I can’t help you with the sky diving thing nor the weightloss, but I can say that learning to scuba dive is a great goal for the year, one that you’ll appreciate not just now, but in the future years to come as well.

Highlights of Underwater Communication
Signal: one hand, fist clenched, thumb pointing up
Meaning:  I want to surface now because I am: tired, hungry, low on air, bored, needing a margarita, or I just don’t like diving with you anymore.

Signal:  hand held flat, palm down, making a sawing motion across the neck
Meaning:  I’m out of air.  Unless I sprout gills I’ll be dead soon.

Signal: hand held flat, fingers pointing up on the top of the head like a shark fin
Meaning:  A shark fin.  Rest of shark attached.  Swim fast.

Signal: hand held flat, palm touching mouth
Meaning: I am low on air.  I am about to rip your air regulator out of your mouth so I can use it.  Or, you can pass it to me.  Your choice.

Signal:  index and middle finger touching the mask, then pointing outwards at an object
Meaning:  There is something very interesting that you must see.  Ha, ha, I saw it first.