It was on this premise we signed up for the early mornings and classroom chalk and talk. From a gigantic class of 40, we were split off into smaller groups of 6 and given a new instructor. Ours was a grumpy 40-something leather skinned Kiwi, who called himself Kiwi. He terrified me, particularly when I effed up with mask skills--taking a mask off and putting it back on underwater without stopping your breathing...But he did know his stuff and when one of our team had a legitimate this-is-not-a-drill underwater oxygen emergency, he hopped to it.
Our group consisted of two Danish girls, Sanne and Signe, a Belgian couple, Tessa and Stephen and Jon and myself. They turned into good friends for the remainder of the trip, which was a highlight.
On our second and third days, we ventured into 15-20 meter depths and watched, amazed, as a school of silvery fish wended their way around our party. We saw coral reefs and big fish with little teeth and little fish with big teeth. I'm doing this no justice, I'm aware, but scuba diving is such a spectacularly odd experience that I will never cease to be amazed.
In doing a course in three days, we were also given a little graduation ceremony (with plenty of alcohol) followed by our cards and dive booklets. From there, we were free to dive the world, to 20 meters at least. Jon packed up his diving gear shortly thereafter, and I joined Nick on a couple more dives run by a different resort on the island.
I'd like to say i'm making a huge effort in keeping my certification up to date now, but sadly this isn't the case. Diving is an activity you can do in the freezing cold, low visibility English sea, but it's not one i'm keen to do. Thus, when I find myself in southeast asia again, I'll have to do a top-up two hour skills class and then be on my way.
Now to convince some friends...
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