AIR – WATER – BREATHING – these are essential to life, also required for Scuba Diving!

       Some essentials for delivering a successful Toastmasters speech: Willingness, courage, preparedness, confidence, sincerity.

       I’m going to share my first scuba-diving experience and draw a parallel between my fear of WATER and breathing underwater to my fear of giving speeches at Toastmasters. Then, demonstrate - using simple life props - how awareness builds confidence, which translates to playfulness and success!

       It all starts with sweaty palms and negative self-talk and gains momentum from there...

       One glorious Caribbean day in 1973, while sunbathing at a beach on St Thomas, I spied a trio of divers emerging from the water. I had been a fan of TV’s Sea Hunt & Jacques Cousteau’s diving adventures from his famed boat, Calypso, and was fascinated by the underwater world. I never had the courage to explore further until that fateful day.

       I watched the divers strip layers of scuba equipment & gear, finally revealing their bathing suits. They walked past me and stopped briefly to chat, inviting me to join them the next morning on another dive. Without much delay, I followed them to the hotel dive shop and added my name to the list. With sweaty palms, I decided to purchase a state-of-the art underwater Lucite camera case for my new 35mm Minolta.

       Back then, my unconscious mind was already training my conscious mind to rely on props to manage fear.

       That night, I had dinner and wine with the divers. They shared their scuba stories – I was transfixed and so buoyed by the effects of the wine, I didn’t bother to mention I wasn’t a confident or strong swimmer. Nor, that I was terrified of WATER!

       Next morning when I awoke, my palms were sweaty; my whole body trembled at the thought of scuba diving. I began the negative self-talk, which is the same process I create at Toastmasters. When the sign-up sheet circulates, my courageous voice says,

       “Go ahead, write your name as speaker”. Inevitably, I add my name 3-4 weeks in advance, then the self-talk begins: What are you, nuts?? You’re not ready to give another speech. Don’t you remember what you went through the last time?

       Typically, I might cross my name off the list as the date approaches. I sign-up for timer instead, a role I’ve mastered.

       So, what’s the deal here?

       I learned to swim in Hawaii when I was 12 and not in a swimming pool, but in the Pacific Ocean! I loved the challenge and was an excellent student. Yet, as I grew older, I developed an intense fear of water – so much so that each time I went into the water, I would be swept under HUGE walls of waves, caught by the undertow and tossed around like a bag of peanuts.

       As I became more aware of how my childhood experiences influenced my everyday life, I became less confident in challenging situations. It seemed the more insight I gained, the more fearful I felt about my vulnerabilities. When I felt overwhelmed, I believed I was unable to BREATHE – so whether at a 40-foot ocean depth or standing at a lectern delivering a speech, when suddenly I feel vulnerable, I am breathless or speechless!

       Back on St Thomas... I showed up at the dive shop ahead of schedule, planning to recite my rehearsed speech about how I had changed my mind. Instead, the instructor rushed me to the back room, which was all set-up for my 60-minute class. I was the only student, the others were certified divers, I was too embarrassed to leave. I sat through the class learning about the equipment, hand signals, potential hazards and safety regulations all the while holding tightly to my Lucite camera case.

       Then we headed to the beach where we suited-up with the necessary gear. It all happened so quickly, I hardly had time to consider how scared I was. The diving instructor took hold of my free hand – the other was holding the camera case – as we began inching into the beautiful Caribbean water. He let me go and began his descent. I took a big breath of air before placing the regulator in my mouth, then closed my eyes, began breathing the way I’d learned and fell into the water. Nothing happened! I was floating on the surface, unaware of my extreme buoyancy. The dive master returned immediately and attached extra weights to my belt.

       As we glided down, down and further down, I would halt momentarily to equalize the pressure in my ears at regular intervals. We swam through a seaweed forest, which was cloudy and slimy, then up ahead I saw the most spectacular array of color and light and coral reefs teaming with abundant life. The fish were so charming and friendly, I thought for sure I was part of an animated cartoon! I didn’t even flinch when a curious barracuda zoomed in for a close-up of my shiny head-gear – she swam back and forth in front of my face, showing off her jagged teeth, as if to say, Welcome to my world!

       Then, swam off in a flurry of bubbles.  

       I was mesmerized by the extraordinary beauty, absorbed in snapping pictures, nearly hypnotized by the absolute stillness, except for my own breathing.

       I kept a watchful eye on my guide, occasionally fingering my whistle – the other divers were nowhere in sight.

       Then, I shifted my focus, becoming truly aware of where I was – Oh, my God! The depth gauge registered 40 feet, I felt intense pressure in my ears and head, my mask was clouding up and tiny rivulets were leaking in! I started to panic and told myself I couldn’t breathe with the regulator in my mouth. I was just about to remove it when instead I decided to swim toward the surface for AIR. In my haste and needing both hands to propel me up, I watched my camera drift effortlessly away as the ocean of water seemed to swallow my courage.

       The dive master grabbed me from behind and swooped me under his strong grip as we slowly surfaced together.

       Spitting, spurting... I quickly regained my composure and blurted, “I’m too afraid, I can’t breathe underwater and I don’t know how to equalize the pressure!”

       He simply asked if I wanted to return to the hotel.

       Shockingly, I shook my head no. We reviewed the breathing and equalizing lessons, he handed me my camera case and again, we descended together.

       Somehow, I managed to focus on my camera prop each time I thought I couldn’t breathe. I would force myself to look in the viewfinder and stare at the most magical world I had ever seen up close.

       That was the first of many diving adventures. The next six times I was in the South Pacific and Hawaii, then back to the Caribbean where I began to have fearful episodes again.

       Strangely, after seven speeches at Toastmasters, I still find myself wanting to back out at the last moment, looking to surface for air perhaps. So, here I am, having risen above the trepidation with the help of my trusty props. It’s clear that when I can hang onto something, maybe as a child clings to its beloved blankie, whether singing a song, using a telephone, microphone, wearing scuba gear or inviting a friend for extra support, my fear transforms into playfulness and I feel successful. 

       Having purchased this darling wet suit from Dive Connections (Route 29 North, next to Pier One), I will commit to go diving over Christmas in the Virgin Islands.

       Thank you, Chip Earle, for helping me with the presentation. I rented the tank, scuba vest and regulator from his shop. He’s very kind and generous to be here today.

       By the way... this is a very versatile outfit! You can wear it to go grocery shopping, to give a speech in, or to go scuba diving. Hmmm... I wonder how it does in the RAIN!!?

       Scuba Diving is an unforgettable experience. It’s a unique world of fish and other magnificent creatures, all waiting to meet us. Imagine that WE are entertainment for them! Dynamic, memorable, remarkable – it’s definitely worth a look!

This past Sunday, Nov 5^th, I had an opportunity to dive with a couple those people to the wreck of the USS St. Augustine.  This dive was the icing on top of a very productive diving year for me in which I’ve had the opportunity to dive a number of deeper and thus seldom visited wrecks.

Built in 1929 at the Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company, the 272-ft luxury yacht was originally named the Viking.  Later she was purchased by Norm Woolworth and renamed the Noparo.  Sold to the US Navy in 1940, she was converted into a patrol gunboat and commissioned as the USS St Augustine (PG-54) on Jan. 16, 1941.

She operated on patrol out of Boston until being assigned to the Eastern Sea Frontier in 1942, escorting conveys between New York and Caribbean ports.  On June 6^th, 1942 the St Augustine attacked the U-701 and kept the U-boat from finishing off the torpedoed and damaged tanker the British Freedom.  The damage from her depth charge attack that day played a large part in the U-701 sinking a few weeks later.

On Jan. 6, 1944, while leading a convoy of ships, the St. Augustine was stuck by the tanker Camas Meadows.  The damage split her seams and the St. Augustine sunk in less than 5 minutes.  The cold January seas claimed 115 of her 145 crew.  Today, she rests in 250 ft of water, sitting upright and mostly intact.  

Our attempts to dive the wreck on other occasions had been cancelled due to weather, but today the conditions looked promising and the plans were once again set in motion.  We left the ramp in Ocean City just before sunrise.  The skies were clear with a light breeze from the NNE and 1 foot seas.  Two and a half-hours later we were overtop the St. Augustine.  

The hook and 280ft of line were pulled from the locker and thrown in as we drifted back across her, grabbing on the first try.  The gear was set up and with tables cut for 20min of bottom time at 240ft.  I splashed in.  For this dive, I was carrying over 260 cubic ft of 16/40 Trimix in my doubles as well as 40 cubic ft of EAN50 and 40 cubic ft of 100% Oxygen.

I reached the bottom and found that the hook had grabbed into a collapsed section of the main deck at the bow.   The tie in had already been made and was solid, so I headed into the mild current towards the stern.  

Visibility was at least 40 ft as I could easily see the full width of her anemone covered beam.  Lots of ambient light made its way down to the bottom, much more than I had expected.  I swam and pulled myself along the wreck.  It was visual overload.  Portholes, bottles, faucets, gauges and other artifacts were everywhere.  Chain Dogfish were lazily perched all over the deck.  

Amidships, I swam up and over the stacks of the now collapsed upper decks and dropped back down once again on the main deck.  A quick check of my gas and I briefly entered the wreck there.  Green light was coming in through a row of portholes along the starboard side, some missing, others still attached with glass intact.  After a quick look around, I exited.  

From here I could see the gun tub and the break off that would have been the stern.  My turn time had been reached.  I rose up a few feet letting the current carry me slowly back toward the bow and our anchor line.  Everyone was on the line, so I untied us and pulled the hook.  I looked back to see the bow of the St. Augustine disappear into the green water as we drifted away.  

The surface was a full 54 minutes away.  I slowly started my ascent to my first deco stop at 160ft.  I’d been training to do this type of diving for a couple of years and this dive couldn’t have been better.  What a feeling! 

Smiling, I remembered when I first ventured to the bottom of the quarry and how deep I thought 60ft was back then.