Advanced Open Water

The advanced open water course takes two days and consists of five dives. Two are compulsory - the deep dive and the navigation dive - and three are chosen as a way of bulking out our log books. We do a wreck, perfect bouyancy and night dive. Nick also manage to sneak in an extra fun dive, which he gives the title 'naturalist dive' or 'looking at fishes'. After just two days and 10 dives altogether I am an 'advanced' open water diver. I again don't find this very safe - I can dive to 30 meters, and at night, as long as I have a qualified buddy. There is no theory, and no test, its really just a matter of clocking up dives, which is pretty much what we do -just dive - particuarly on the bouyancy and navigaion dives. The deep, wreck and night dives are by far the most exciting and are the ones I am going to tell you about.

Deep Dive:

 The deep dive takes us to thirty meters, where the water starts to get murky and cold. We descend slowly, circling the Chumphon pinnacle until we hit a thermodine, a cold patch of water at the very bottom. I hover slightly above 30 meters, at 28m, where the water is instantly warm again. At this depth we have to do a 'narc test', checking whether we have been affected by the concentration of nirogen we are now breathing due to the increased preassure. Nick holds up, for example, seven fingers, and in response we have to hold up however many equals eleven. In my case, I know that the answer is four, but I can't work out how many fingures makes four, holding up six and counting them off until I get the answer correct. Alex has to count Nick's fingers, then her own, and then starts giggling before eventually getting the answer correct.

There are fewer colourful fish at this depth, the most exciting thing we see is a huge school of barracuda swimming past, hardly visible in the murk. But it is exciting simply being so deep - turning over and looking up at the distant surface and the tonnes of water above. The preassure means the oxygen in our tanks does not last as long as it would at 18 meters, as we are breathing it in a more compressed form. Including descent and ascent time, we only stay down for about 25 minutes (with 15 minutes at the bottom), as opposed to our usual 45 minutes.

Wreck Dive:

The wreck is the HTMS Sattakut, a WWII American ship, sold to the Thai Navy who then gave it to BigBlue and sunk it for them, right next to another dive site, so that the near by marine life would spill over and inhabit it. We are dropped off by the boat on its way to the adjacent site, so we have to be ready to jump off quickly as it barely pauses. (We will then swim to where the boat and other divers are to be picked up). As we descend the wreck literally looms out of the darkness - Titanic style. It is not as big as I had thought, and we are not allowed to swim inside it (doing so is pretty much the only way we can fail the course) but it still fairly impressive. It sureal swimming around a completley submerged ship crawling with sea life. There is a huge gun mounted on the bow and I poke my head into the bridge to see an angry looking trigger fish. Unfortunately we don't see any giant squid or krakens - they're probably inside.

It tempts me to do the full wreck diving course, but then again I'm not a fan of confined, underwater spaces. At least in open water, even at 30 meters I can see and could swim to the surface if needed. Apparently the inside of the wreck is covered in silt which, if unsettled, creates a thick cloud making it impossible to even see one's own hand, let alone the exit. Maybe not.

Above: HTMS Sattakut (internet)

Night Dive:

Having done three dives on the first day of our advanced course, we decide to do the night dive the next evening. The boat leaves at 18:30 and it is very stormy, not helping my pre-existing nerves regarding bobbing around on the surface (already my least favourite bit) before descending into darkness. We also have to learn new rules regarding hand signals, as one hand is now holding a torch, and correct usage of the torch - hold it down when descending, up when ascending, don't shine it in people's eyes, or directly at the fish. Although simple, I have only just learnt the previous set of hand signals, and its a lot to take in with waves constantly slapping me around the face, whilst trying to put my kit together in semi darkness on a boat which refuses to remain at one angle.

Above: Heading out for the night dive

Eventually we're ready - we jump in, quicky descend and suddenly its calm. I can't even tell that there is a storm on the surface and the only sound is of my own breathing and a fizzing and crackling from the water around me. Below I can see columns of illuminated bubbles and just make out the divers making them. My torch casts a thin beam which highlights the grime in the water around me - which I assume is bits of plant life, fish, little sea bugs and general ocean-ness not visible in the day light. We are circling another pinnacle, this one called red rock. There is a strong current pulling us around, and sometimes into, the rock. There are lots of fish sleeping in crevices, and a lot of awake fish, who look startled when they move into my torch light (yes a fish can look startled). We see crabs, a baby moray, huge cowrie shells, shrimp and a sleeping trigger fish. It is not much different from the day time, just darker and quieter.

Although previously adamant I would not do a night dive I loved it. Nick had told us about glowing octopus and hunting barracuda, who make use of the torch light, and I can't wait to go again! In a few days time a friend from university (and a dive master!) is coming to Koh Tao and I am hoping to do lots of diving with her, at a hugely reduced price now that I am 'qualified' (I will still be very glad to have a dive master with me).

Open Water Course, Day 4

On the final day of the open water course I wake up at 5:45 in time to get a big breakfast before the boat leaves at 6:30. Today we will do our final two dives which will qualify us, after only 2 and a half hours of diving and a very easy test, to dive anywhere in the world to 18 meters deep. There is no other test, the only way we can fail is if we drop out ourselves. If there is a skill we can't master, the instructor has to keep trying to teach it for as long as we want. I don't find this very discerning or reassuring, thinking of the hundreds of 'qualified' people there must be who have no idea what they're doing. One of them could end up being my dive buddy, or I could be one of them!

The first dive site is a place called 'Chumpohn Pinnacle', which is effectively an underwater mountian. Because we can only dive to 18 meters, there are 12 meters of sea life below us which we can't explore. I find this very frustrating and, with the knowledge that I can't really 'fail' the course, i'm very tempted to sink lower to get a better look. However because we are swimming around a mountain there is still a lot to look at on our level - corals, crabs, sea urchins, anemones and hundreds of fish - some of whom enjoy nibbling my legs.

On the surface there are four other dive boats, each with at least twenty divers, so the surrounding water is almost as full of people as fish. It is very surreal seeing so many people underwater in the middle of the ocean, and there are huge columns of bubbles rising up all around me.

The second dive is closer to shore, meaning we can dive to the sea bed. We see puffer fish, a sea snake (!), a moray eel, clown fish and trigger fish, who have very sharp teeth and a fin that pops up from its head when provoked (as Nick demonstrates by poking it with his foot). The sea snake is apparently poisonous, but it's teeth are too small to penetrate our skin - Nick tells us all this through a number of confusing hand gestures, but I think this is what he is trying to say.

Above: Sea Snake *

Above: Trigger fish*

On the sand I frequently see long, bug eyed, yellow fish who are waiting patiently beside a hole which is being dug by what looks like some sort of crab. I assume they are waiting to steal the hole from the crab, but when I get to the surface and ask Nick about them, he tells me that it is a goby fish, and has a symbiotic relationship wih shrimp. The goby fish lives in holes, but can't dig. The shrimp also lives in holes, but is blind. So, whilst the prawn digs them a hole each, the goby acts as a look out. The prawn always keeps one antene on the goby's tail and, when a predator swims past, the goby flicks his tail and the prawn hides in the sand. I wonder if one ever screws the other over - digging only one hole (the prawn) or taking the first hole without watching for predators during the second dig (the goby). I assume not, or there would be none left - that's nature for you: amazing!

Above: Goby fish & prawn*

By the end of the dive we are, scarily, qualified open water divers. Instead of celebrating, we all have another early night. We start the advanced course in the morning - six dives (including a night dive and wreck dive), no tests, no theory and going down to 30 meters!

*Photos from the internet - my camera only goes to 5 meteres (and is therefore useless)

Open Water Dive Course, Day 3

In the morning we have the multiple-choice test which is really easy (it includes questions such as 'what should divers wear with fins? A. Tennis shoes, B. Slippers, C. Bare feet or D. Flipflops'). I annoyingly get 49/50, but I'm not allowed to take the test again.

After lunch we get on the dive boat. We first have to carry our equipment - masks, snorkles, fins and 'BC' (bouyancy compensator) - across the beach to a traditional Thai 'long tailed' boat which is filled with oxygen cylinders.

The boat takes us the short distance to the dive boat, which is open sided with two floors, a kitchen, bathroom, dry room, tables and set up area. We set up our equiptment whilst the boat is still heading to the dive site, so that we can jump in the moment we get there, but the mkvement of the boat and the 20 other people make it very difficult, particularly when standing up, tanks on our backs, fins on our feet and trying to carry out our 'buddy checks'. Nick keeps shouting at us to hurry up, which doesn't help.

Alex and Charlotte doing their 'final ok'

When we get to 'Mango Bay' we jump in (nothing fancy, no rolling off the side or falling off backwards, just a big step off the back of the boat) and spend a while bobbing around on the surface, BCs fully inflated, waiting for all six of us to get together. This is very uncomfortable as the BC rides up around my neck and ears and waves keep smacking me in the face.

Eventually we deflate and follow a bouy line 12 meters down to the sea bed, equalizing our ears as we go. Every now and then I feel like I can't breath, and I get the urge to take my respirator out. The oxygen is very dry and breathing it feels laboured. I soon relax, which is good because my pressure gague has dropped quickly, meaning I am breathing 'too much'.
We are supposed to be practicing the skills we learnt in the pool but there are two problems with this:

 First, no one has learnt to properly control their bouyancy yet, so everyone is bobbing around all over the place, bumping into each other, fins in faces. This is made even more difficult by the fact that we have been told not to use our arms - they should remain folded. To go up and down we are supposed to use our lungs, but there is a lot of flapping from everyone when we get too close to some coral.

Second, no one is paying much attention to Nick. We are all looking around and swimming off after fish. Because we are so shallow the visibility is excellent. We see banner fish, serjeant majors, snapper, parrot fish, gobis, prawns, peacock sole, anemone fish and a lot more. (When we get back to land and fill in our log books, we are told  to write down what we have seen, and do this after every dive, but there is far too much to remember).

Back on the boat I am starving and I fill up on pineapple and watermelon slices. We get a fifteen minute break, going over our mistakes and what we did well, before jumping in again. This time we get into the water by standing on the edge and falling backwards, holding our respirators with one hand and our mask strap with the other. We descend again and this time we have more freedom to look around. I begin to get better at controlling my depth by breathing in or out more or less, although it is still tempting to flap a bit when I swim too low over some spiky sea urchins, instead of taking a deep breath in. 

Open Water Dive Course, Days 1&2

On our very first day on Koh Tao we begin our open water dive course at a centre called 'Big Blue'. Alex is staying here for two months to become a 'dive master', Charlotte and I will stay for about a week before heading to Cambodia, Loas and Vietnam.

Above: Big Blue (before a storm)

The course begins with lots of paper work, mostly disclaimers, but we fill the forms out whilst sitting at a bar on the beach, so its not too awful. We then have an introductory talk with about 20 other people who are all starting the course before being handed a book on diving and six pages of 'fill in the blank' questions which we have to make a start on whilst watching an accompanying video. The statments vary in difficulty from; "Divers wear masks so that they can ____ underwater" to " ______ ______ occurs when a diver reaches a bottom level of at least _____"*. The video lasts for 2 hours and is very cheesy, showing grinning people putting on masks and practising underwater signals.

On day two we are assigned our instructor, Nick, who has been diving for five years and also teaches the dive master course. He is very laid back compared to the other instructors and says things like 'Right, put your respirators on the cylinders." before walking off. But after an couple of hours in the pool we could all take our masks on and off whilst under water and then empty them of water, share air if someone runs out, retive dropped respirators, make an emergeny ascent and hover in mid water by controlling our breathing. We also have to take a swim test, which involves treadding water for 10 mintues, then swimming lengths for 10 minutes. In the afternoon we watch more videos which cover decompression sickness, nitrogen narcosis, first aid and poisonous sea creatures - basically everything that can go wrong whilst diving. Nick's version of the talk includes lots of stories of people getting nitrogen narcosis (which is common and not dangerous, just funny). Once someone thought he was having a conversation with a fish, and got annoyed when the fish stopped talking and swam away. Another person belived that a near by fish was 'out of air' and swam after it trying to put their spare respirator in the fish's mouth.

 In the evening we celebrate my birthday by having drinks on the beach and watching the 'fire poy' display (bundles of fabric attached to rope, soaked petrol and set on fire before being spun around the head and body in different patterns). The act involves two young topless Thai men who spin the poy around their heads, between the legs and even through them up in the air and between each other, somehow managing to catch the not-on-fire end. We have a fairly early night as we have a multiple choice test in the morning and our first ocean dive.

*The answers are 1. See, 2.Nitrogen narcosis, 3. 30 meters

Above: Sun-set from Big Blue

Bangkok to Koh Tao

Before heading to the island of Koh Tao Alex, Charlotte and I spend a couple of nights in Bangkok near the crazy Kaoh San road. Lined bars, neon signs, street food stands, sun burnt tourists and stalls selling fake designer sunglasses the Kaoh San road is always busy. However walking down it can be a reasonably pleasant experience. The streets are dust, cow and urine free. Touts and stall owners desist after a simple shake of the head and the street food is fresh and veg filled - noodles, spring rolls, fruit kebabs and coconut ice cream (served in an actual coconut).

Knowing that we willl have more time to sight see in the city when we fly out, we spend our time stocking up on things we couldn't get in India - shorts, swimming costumes and beef burgers. - and book a sleeper bus and ferry to get us to Koh Tao, where Alex will stay for two months doing her dive masters and Charlotte and I will stay for a week or so - her doing an open water course and me the advanced course.

Despite the many bus trips I did in India, this is one of the strangest. It is a luxury bus - unlike the ones in India (which weren't really even buses). The chairs recline until they're almost horizontal and have foot and neck rests. There is airconditioning so cold that we are given huge toweled blankets by the 'bus hostess'. We had been told that our ticket includes supper, and at 21:30 we are shown a basket full of unidentifiable rolls. Mine turns out to be 'black bean' but is more like a stale chocolate brioche. Other flavours include 'butter' and 'green custard' , which tastes like seaweed. We are given ten minutes to eat our 'supper' before all the lights are turned off, including our individual spot lights. We take the hint and try, unsucesfully, to go to sleep. Although they look comfortable, the chairs are narrow and, when fully reclined, make an odd angle with with the foot rest, which doesn't rise high enough. I toss and turn for a couple of hours and I'm just about to drift off when I am roused by the bus hostess shouting at me in Thai.

We have pulled up outside a huge, one room service station which contains rows and rows of low shelving stacked with packets of dried fish, sun flower seeds and vac-packed flan. Standing on a chair is a small man with a megaphone calling out what I can only assume are the numbers of the buses arriving and leaving. At one end of the room are round stone tables with curved stone benches. On every table is a lazy-susan holding dishes of eggs, mixed vegetables, dried fish and onions. Each table is set up in exactly the same way, although most of them are empty. We watch, wondering whether it is a resturant or some sort of pre booked meal for a large coach party, but after a while we are beckoned to a table by a Thai woman from our coach. It turns out that this is our dinner - I had given up hope of anything more when the lights went out on the coach and it passed midnight. Waitresses in pink t-shirts ladle out bowls of rice in warm water, rather like unsweetened rice pudding, and the other people at our table start adding the toppings arranged on the lazy susan. The vegetables are covered in butter and delicious, but the dried fish tastes like, well dried fish.

We have another couple of hours on the bus before we are woken again to find we are in the town of Chomphon, three hours early, our bags already on the pavement. It is three in the morning and we are assured that a taxi will turn up at four to take us to the ferry port. There is no one around except a small, scruffy dog who waits on the benches with us and leaps up expectantly whenever a car goes past, as if he is wating for someone. Eventually a man on a moped turns up and opens the waiting room/shop behind us and tells us that the taxi will turn up at 6. We go inside and I once again try, and fail, to get some sleep. At a quarter to six an open sided mini bus with benches in the back pulls up and, barely waiting for our nod in response to the bark of, 'Koh Tao?', our bags are flung in the back by

As the sun rises we drive past bungalows surrounded by palm trees and long grass, before picking up more travellers and then more again until the bags are stacked to the roof. As we get closer to the sea the houses get more and more run down and many of them have boats parked in the driveways. I soon see our 'catamaran' (a trawller done up with plastic seating). But it doesn't matter, I spend the three hour journey to the napping in the sun with the spray in my face, watching the passing islands and flying fish and tying to ignore the groups of burnt teenagers, beer in each hand, heading for the infamous Full Moon Party taking place next week when I will be in bed exhausted from a day of diving and sun bathing. I don't envy them.

Above: Charlotte asleep on the ferry

Above: The view from Big Blue Dive Resort

**Watch this space, more photos to come**

Leaving India

Tomorrow I fly to Bangkok and I am looking forward to exploring a new country and culture (and to eating a beef burger). I some what arrogantly feel like I know India pretty well (which is ridiculous after only a few months in such a huge country) but I can book and catch a train, identify most foods, say 'no', 'go away', 'how much?' and 'cold water?' in Hindi (there are no everyday words for please and thankyou). I have learnt how to cross a road (quickly!) and how to eat only using my right hand. I know when it is appropriate to take off my shoes, cover my head or greet someone with my hands together in the prayer position. I have been to Hindu, Sikh and Jain temples, Muslim mosques and Christian churches and I can identify these people on the streets by what they're wearing, eating or speaking. I know how to ride camels, elephants and, most dangerously of all, rickshaws. I no longer have to look at the numbers on my money, I know how much a hotel room, a bus, a coke and a wall hanging should cost and I know how to get it down to the right price. I can tell when the seal on a bottle of water has been tampered with and that, when catching a cycle rickshaw, one should haggle down to a low price, then pay more.

Despite all of this in reality I have only experienced a tiny part of India, but I am ready to go. I won't miss the constant din of the traffic, particularly the piercing sound of horns and the ever present risk of being hit by a moped. Nor will I miss the smell of urine, the spitting, pushing, staring, hassle or the frequent refrain of 'yes madam?' from evey shop keeper I walk past. I am tired of scrubbig my feet everyday with little effect - I think they will be permanently brown, the dirt having become a part of my skin. What I will miss are the more pleasant smells such as saffron from a lassi shop, insense from a temple and frying street food and the children who surprise me by approaching just to shake my hand, before saying 'How do yooou do?' and giggling to each other when I say 'Very well thank you, how do you do?'. Whilst it sometimes gets anoying I will miss the request 'One photo please?' which turns into a photo with every member of the group, babies shoved in my arms. I will also miss the excellent shopping, leaning out of an open train door and just sitting and drinking chai out of a terracotta pot.

Im sure, however, that I will get different versions of all of this (the good and bad) in south east Asia, which is maybe why I am not too sad to be leaving India. Today I ventured out into the bazzars of Delhi in an attempt to capture a last bit of the madness of India before my camera is filled with pictures of cocktails, palm trees and beaches.

 

Camel Safari - Jaisalmer

From the desert city of Jaisalmer in western Rajasthan we arrange an overnight camel safari. Due to the heat in the middle of the day we set out at three in the afternoon in an open-sided jeep, driving for about forty-five minutes to a small town in the middle of a scrubby wasteland. Everything is sand coloured - the ground, the buildings, the plants and the camels which await us. We are in a group of seven - two Australian business men who work in Chennai, a young English couple and ourselves. Everyone approaches the camels caustiously, they have very long teeth and even longer legs. I had expected them to be about the same size of a large horse, but they are as tall as the Asian elephants I have ridden.

The camel drivers, several of them young boys, shout commands and the camels slowly and clumsily lower themselves into what looks like a very uncomfortable sitting position. I say hello to my chosen camel, who is smaller and darker than the others with multi-coloured pompoms on his nose band. He also has several nose rings and necklaces. He doesn't seem very happy to see me - when I try and pat his neck he swings his neck around angrily, showing a lot of teeth.He has a metal bar through the bridge of his nose, above his nostrils, to which his reigns are tied. No wonder he is stroppy. I ask the drivers what my camels name is, but it is long and complicated and I forget it quickly. Instead I call him Diva, because he is beautiful and seems to know it.


At the usherings of the camel drivers I was around to Diva's side to get on the saddle. Even though he is lying down it is still very high and I have to hop to get on.  The saddle looks a lot like a sledge, with two runners either side of the camel's back and hgeld in place by cushions and ropes. Dive is reluctant to stand up and from watching the others it seems as complicated as sitting down.

Above: A camel saddle

Above: Camel sitting down

The camel first un-tucks his front legs, suddenly and violently tipping the rider backwards, counteracted only with an immediate stomach crunch and clinging desperately to the front of the saddle. Before they know it, the rider is in danger of falling right over the camel's head as, from a 'kneeling' position, he straightens his back legs without having fully extended his front legs. Eventually he sorts him self out and the rider finds themselves very high up, looking down a long neck.

Above: Camel standing up

When everyone is ready, scarves around heads, water bottles in hand, we head off into the 'desert'. I have my suspicions that we are not going to be surrounded by sand dunes for miles around but I have been assured that we will at least see some.The camels seem to know the way, and only one or two are lead by the drivers, who walk along side us.

Riding the camel is not at all bumpy, and the backed saddle makes the whole thing very comfortable. By now it is nearly 4:30 and as well as getting cooler, the sky is cloudy. After about an hour we hear huge cracks of thunder and, just after crossing our first sand dune, it beings to spot with rain, and then pour. The drivers lead the camels at a bumpy trot to one of the few pieces of vegetation, a surprisingly green bush, and we all crouch beneath it - camels included. Sitting down is just as complicated as standing up, expect everything is in reverse. I have to lean far back as Diva drops to his knees. He is not very happy and keeps making angry noises which sound like a mixture between a cow and a sheep. After about fifteen minutes the rain has eased off and we remount and move on. We ride on, stopping only to explore some more sand dunes, before reaching our camp an hour later.

Above: Camels having their dinner

The camp is an arrangement of four small mud huts with stick roofs. The camels are un-tacked and fed their dinner, and then we are given chai. The sky is still cloudy so we miss the sun set, but we do get a bit of a pink glow from behind a dune. I spend an hour or so trying to get as close to the camels as possible to take photos, before dinner is served - chipatti, rice, potato and cabbage curry and a spicy tomato curry.

 Above: Dinner in the Desert

As it get darker we set up our beds in the middle of the circle of huts. We are provided with canvas woven beds on metal frames, thin mattresses, sheets pillows and blankets. Eventually the clouds begin to clear and I can see the stars coming out. It would be very quiet if it were not so windy, and I find it difficult to sleep because of the sand blowing in my face, so I wrap my scarf around my head and eventually drift off.

At one point in the night I am woken by several cows wondering around our beds, I sit up to watch them warily (they have very big horns) but they walk away, leaving me to notice how much clearer the sky has become, showing more and brighter than there had been when I fell asleep. I'm glad the cows woke me up.

Above: Bed for the night

I wake up at five in the morning as the sun rises. Everyone else, except the camels, are asleep, and I get up talk to them and take some more photos. It is still very quiet and cool, so I read my book for an hour before everyone wakes up. It is very surreal to be sitting in bed reading in the middle of the desert.

Breakfast is one of the best I've had in India - chai, toast, boiled eggs and bananas. I fill up and, once the camels have had their breakfast are re-saddled we head back via a different route, passing nomad villages and a few more dunes. The two Australians had not stayed the night in the desert (having been picked up by the jeep careering madly over the sand dunes after dinner the night before) and so there are two spare camels onto which the five drivers pile.

By 8:30 it is very hot and I am looking forward to getting back to the jeep. Diva seems to think the same and takes the lead, reaching the village several minutes before the others. I don't know how to make him sit down, so we walk around in circles for a bit. In this time I manage to actually stroke him, something he hasn't let me do before, and he feels softer than I had expected. As I imagine riding a camel down to Ashburton, I decide that camels are under-appreciated animals and that I like them very much, even if they are stroppy.

Above: Nomad Village