Happy Birthday! – Abalone Diving Near-Death Experience -

 

It turns out that the last day of my 36^th year was nearly my last.  Below is the account of my Abalone Diving experience from last weekend (April25-26).  I have been diving for 13 years now, and never have I had such a frightening, life-changing experience. Enjoy the read and the insights that may come of it.

 

 

Thursday April 23^rd   

On Thursday I called Robert at Diver’s Cove to check on gear availability and to see if he would still help me 5 minutes after he was supposed to be closed at 6.  The vibe was right on – “I’ll hook you up bro.” Sweet. I arrived with a 6 pack and checked the gear. Full 2 piece wetsuit, booties, “special ab-catcher” fins, gloves, hoodie, mask, snorkel and 24 lb weight belt – CHECK.  It goes along with the rest of the gear I own – Abalone Sizer, Ab-Bar, Waterproof tag case, Floatie, rope and tubes. CHECK.

Friday April 24^th

 Friday turned out to be a very productive work day and the launch from Sacramento to the North Coast was delayed.  Holly and I got in to the packed Tahoe to finally drive away. Click. Click. click click click click click. No start! Dead Battery?  Well we decided not to trouble shoot the problem and transferred all the gear into Holly’s wagon-rig. Repacked. “Is this some sort of a weird sign telling us we weren’t supposed to go? Or just a challenge to be overcome to reach our objective?” I would ask myself this question several times on various occasions over the next 14 hours leading up to the dive.

Holly and I acquired a few last minute supplies – groceries, fishing license, Ab License and tags – CHECK – and headed out on the 3 hour drive, finishing up Highway 1 on the California coast. We arrived at the camp site just after dark and were greeted by Fessler, Danielle and a warm fire.   Paul and Cathy arrived a short while later and after some late night catch up – we realized that Paul had forgotten one critical piece of gear – his mask!  This was quite odd as Paul is very particular about ALL his gear. In our 13 years of diving together, I’ve never seen him forget a thing. Another sign? The auditor in him came out, “Even if you have done something 1000 times that physical checklist can make all the difference.” UNCHECK.

Saturday, April 25^th

Morning came quickly and after a “cross-your fingers and hope the guy in the trailer park is open at 7:30 AM” stop, we got Paul’s mask and headed to the ocean. Lucky-CHECK.

On the walk down to the ocean my mind began to rise with a mixture of fear and anticipation.  Why had I not made it to the pool last week to practice my diving!?  There’s one thing I can say about abalone diving – it’s scary as hell. I’m not a natural water person – I prefer the mountains.  This is one of my personal “stretch-challenges.”  It puts me well into the growth zone every time. In fact, every time I dive I get nervous – and for good reason.  Abalone diving is a VERY dangerous sport. Try combining a rocky shoreline, massive kelp fields, powerful waves, rip tides and one of the largest Great White Shark breeding grounds in the world which is 20 miles off the coast. Just like anything, there are lots of factors and techniques when ab diving that will increase the odds of your safety.  And when I dive with Paul, we stack as many of those odds in our favor. And like much of life, you can’t always control ALL the variables. I ALWAYS have gone with Paul, and it’s a good thing I did again this year.

Missing License – ANOTHER SIGN?

We made it to the overlook and the tide was actually looking quite good when we arrived. Even though it was getting on the late side, I felt good when I looked at the tide level.  I got all suited up, which is a task all in itself, and went through my final check.  “Where’s my Tag Case with the license?” I must have left it in the car!  … a quarter mile back up the rock trail… You might think that not having a license is no big deal, but would you want to risk a $10,000 fine for pulling an ab without a license?

 After 15 minutes I began to realize that Holly hadn’t found the case, so I sprinted up to the car (in my full wet-suit).  NO-CHECK.  It must have been back at the camp site (10 minute drive).  ANOTHER SIGN?  Holly drove like a champion speed racer and we got the case and were back down to the water 30 minutes later.  By this time the tide had come in some and the water was starting to get a bit rougher – it was about 10 AM, which is the time historically we are finished. WHY? Because after about 10 AM the ocean typically gets rougher, the waves get bigger and the visibility gets worse.

I was finally almost ready until the strap on my fin kept malfunctioning… What next?!  

Paul “Magivered” the fin and we finished our final pre-dive review. I told Paul I was feeling tired from the lack of sleep, the sprinting back and forth to get my license and messing with my fins.  We both recognized that the water was getting rougher. Paul:  “Let’s just get the limit and get out.  And remember, if you have any trouble, pop the weight belt!”    Tim: “Let’s do it!”

I have been diving about once a year for the past 13 years.  This year just seemed different. Was I not as prepared? Were there too many signs not to listen to? Was it just fear rearing its ugly head? Out of the comfort zone? CHECK!

The Dive - Paul Dickey and Tim Walther

 

THE DIVE

We picked our way through the mine-field of rocks and the crashing set of waves, which seemed much bigger than they looked from the shore. I pumped the fins and cut through the kelp.  The ocean pushed back. It seemed as if the ocean flipped the switch just as we entered and the volume and intensity was dialed up about 11 notches.  Bigger, stronger waves. Stay Calm. Breathe.  Swing strong! Stay Calm. Breathe. Just getting past the breakers was exhausting.  Paul set the anchor near the rock-breaker with powerful, surging, pounding waves.  The visibility was poor and all that could be seen from the surface was a swirling foam of white. I balanced on the top of the floatie trying to catch my breath. Paul shouted out to me, “You have to dive down! You can’t see anything from the surface!”  I nodded in agreement and went down for my first dive. About 15 down the pressure came surging in my head.  I took a quick glance around at the swirling underwater world and went back up immediately.  Back on the floatie to catch my breath… again. Thank goodness for the floatie!  After a minute I mustered up the strength for my next dive and went all in.  I cranked my fins so hard that this time, on my way down, I felt my hamstring pop.  OW! Damn.  I shook off the new injury and went down again, this time I saw one. I immediately swam to it and in my rush, all my ab-bar popping technique went out the window. The wrong angle and the ab locked onto the rock. I gunned it back to the surface and big breaths to regain my wind. I began to wonder whether I would be able to do it. I was tired and getting more tired with each dive. Down again – this dime for a longer dive. I swam along the ocean floor past huge rocks toward a kelp field and when the waves surged, a huge ab revealed itself. Diving through or under kelp is a dangerous proposition 20 feet under for obvious reasons.  I figured I had about 15 seconds left in my lungs, calculated the strategy, planned the angle and went for it. I angled the ab bar and got the pop – off came the abalone. I grabbed it like a greased watermelon and bolted toward the top. Gasping for air, I felt a surge of relief as I held up my first catch.  It wasn’t exactly enormous, but did meet the legal limit. One in the bag. 

 

As I rested another minute the waves continued to increase in size and intensity. The size of the big-wave sets grew larger and the time between sets was decreasing.   The sound of the waves crashing on the nearby rocks was deafening.  I dove again. And again. And again. On my fifth or so dive I got another ab. However, this one was a hair too small. No dice.  I dove again and this time held my breath so long that I came up gasping for air and to get on the floatie, which Paul was resting on. As I thrashed to get on the floatie, I mistakenly hit Paul in the head with my Ab bar! “AHHHH!!!! Am I bleeding?!” Paul’s voice was in panic as he felt his head for blood.  I yelled out to him over the pounding waves, “No Blood Man – I’m sorry man – I’m getting tired!” Paul: “Get the limit and let’s get out of here!”   I released the floatie and swam away to another spot about 20 feeet or so away. 20 feet led to 30 feet, which led to 40 and 50 feet.  I was burning energy and oxygen RAMPIDLY.  But I wanted my limit – 3 abalone.   In one massive diving effort I scored two abalone at once! I came up breathing hard and my lungs felt like they were on fire. 

STRUGGLE for LIFE

I kept kicking and headed back toward the floatie, which was now some 50 feet away, AGAINST the tide current.  As I held the abs I tried to keep my eyes on the floatie and kicked hard.  My snorkel-breathing was extremely heavy. I was exhausted.  BIG TIME.  I was trying to hold onto my abs and had to get to the floatie and rest!  20 leg strokes later I looked up to check my progress and I was in nearly the same place that I was in when I began.  The current was too strong to make it back to the floatie. As I came to this realization I dropped the two abalone and began to swim with everything I had for the floatie.  The waves had picked up and were surging and crashing and it felt like I was getting pulled out into the sea.  As my predicament became vividly apparent, a sense of panic began to take over me. Like I have never felt before, I had a flash of total helplessness.  My head had an eerie hot-flash feeling from the lack of oxygen and I began to gasp for air. The floatie looked like it was a mile away. Would I be able to make it?  I repeated my words to myself “Stay Calm. Breathe.”

I spotted Paul, spit out my snorkel and, while using more energy, waved my florescent ab bar back and forth frantically, yelling out to him. “Paul! Help! Get the float!” Could he see the panic in my eyes some 40 feet away?  Did he even know how much I was struggling? I couldn’t tell. Paul dove down again. He came up closer to the float this time and looked over to me. I screamed and waved again, and this time as I did a wave surged and I inhaled a gulp of salt ocean water and began to cough violently. I struggled to put the snorkel back in while kicking to maintain buoyancy. And for whatever reason, the simple act of popping my weight belt did not enter my mind. I had never been in this situation before, and it wasn’t an immediate second nature emergency response. And because it didn’t pop the weight belt, I continued to struggle, and to sink back down into the ocean. I thought I was done.

I mustered every ounce of strength to re-gain my breathing and paddle to stay afloat. I am NOT going to die!  The battle continued and finally Paul had made it to the floats!   How had he done it? Later I would find out that he had dove down to the bottom of the ocean some 30 feet down, enough to avert the powerful top current, and travelled along the ocean floor under pulling on rocks and kelp to get back to the float.

Even though he had made it, the struggle continued. It turns out that the anchor was stuck – and after more ocean bottom diving to try and release it, he managed to unattach the anchor and finally swim toward me. I was on my last breaths when we re-connected.  I grabbed the float and a feeling of gratitude like I have never felt before flowed over me. Behind my mask tears rolled out of my eyes. When I could finally speak, the only words I could muster were, “You saved my life.”

Exhausted - and ALIVE

 

PROCESSING LESSONS LEARNED

I am still reflecting and processing this experience.  I have had many “on the edge” experiences in my adventurous life and this was, without a doubt at the top of the scariest, most life-threatening moments I have ever had. I had nearly drowned abalone diving. I was nearly another statistic.

So what do you do with an experience like this?  My initial comment to Paul as I sat on the shore pondering was that this experience had set me back 5 years in my abalone diving. I said this because it had instilled a fear in me that I wasn’t sure if I could get over – and I couldn’t tell how it would impact my desire to dive in the future. Paul’s comment was that it had actually ADVANCED my ab diving by 2 years.  Not sure how he picked that number really, but what’s the point? When you live through an experience then you actually GAIN years of experience when it is processed effectively. In that moment, Paul had helped me to REFRAME THE EXPERIENCE.  That’s what good friends do for each other.  

The question then becomes, how can I use my experience to my advantage? The simple process begins by asking, “What did I learn, and how can I apply that learning?” Well there are several technical diving details, but what I will say is that the PRACTICE of popping the weight belt in an emergency is something that you can’t do often enough.  It just needs to be ingrained that it becomes UNCONSCIOUS COMPETENT and an immediate reaction in an emergency. Any struggle = POP THE WEIGHT BELT!  Period. No questions. Had I done that immediately I would have been telling a different story right now.

THE SIGNS?  Hind sight is 20-20.  But what about all the signs? My car not starting, Paul forgetting his mask, me forgetting my license, and all of that leading to a delayed start.  At what point do you read the “signs” of life or just consider events obstacles to be overcome?   If you are reading this you probably know that I am a highly DOMINANT DiSC style and that I indeed see most things as challenges to be overcome, and I find great enjoyment in overcoming them. However, there is a fine line in the analysis of the universal energy flow and “indicators” as I call them.  What is the universe trying to tell you? These are the mysteries of life – and answers to which I will continue to SEEK.

LIFE’s GREAT QUESTIONS as you APPROACH DEATH

The bigger picture of things for me is really just sinking in.  What if I had died?  Who are the people who love me? Have I lived full out? What would people say about me at my funeral? Was I a positive impact in this world? Am I dying with honor and respect of those around me?  What legacy am I leaving? These are questions I have only began to process.

THANK YOU – I LOVE YOU ALL -   Paulo- I love you man, thanks for saving my life – again!  Holly, you’re beautiful and I love you too.  Thanks for for everything you do, and for drumming me while I dove, that might have just saved my life too. To all of you who sent me birthday wishes – THANKYOU!  To anyone I have met, I pray you have been influenced positively by me. And for those I have yet to meet, i love you too!

I could continue on, but for now, I will let this lie for a little while.  Please let me know any thoughts you might have. Thanks for reading and I encourage you to consider how my experience may relate to YOUR LIFE.  What are some lessons you might be able to take from this?  I wonder…

If you want more info about what Abalone is, go here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abalone If you want some info about recent deaths, go here:  http://sonic.net/~rocky/deathidx.htm\

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