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Sunday, September 09, 2012

Worst Dive Experience, EVER!

If there was ever a day that I wish I had stayed home, it was today. I had an entire other blog post written last night and I thought, "mehh, I'll just wait to post it tomorrow." I wasn't planning on going diving today until 6:30am when Patrick told me to pack my things and go. Reluctantly, I said "okay, I'll go, but I'm not diving." He agreed.  Miranda and I were certain (from the waves before the pass), that we would just tan and listen to music the entire time the guys were down. WRONG. We get out past the jetties and the chop starts up, at least three to four feet of bumpy, rocking waves. About 20 minutes later we're about six miles out and the guys gear up and get ready to go. I know how to drive the boat, so I was ready to circle around the buoy and wait for them to surface.  About three minutes after they descend, I needed to use the bathroom. No bathrooms for miles, I hop in the water and Miranda takes over... Here is how the next 50 or so minutes went.

Me: "Okay, where's the buoy."
Miranda: "Right there."
Me: "Right where?"
Miranda: "Right next to us!"
Me: Looking around, "I don't see it."
Miranda: "Oh no... It's under the propeller."
Me: "That's not good, Miranda!!!" At this point, I lean over the back of the boat and see the rope wrapping continuously around the propeller. To which I yell "cut it! cut it!" Meaning, turn the engine off.
Miranda: "Okay! Okay! Turn the key?"

She turns the key and the engine stops and we realize just how badly we're tangled. The rope was wrapped around the propeller about three times.  I told her I would get in the water and unravel it. I get in the water and see literally a forest of jellyfish, swallow water (the waves were only getting bigger) and eventually slip off of the boat and start drifting, fast.  Luckily, Miranda was on the edge of the boat and was able to grab my hand as I swam as hard as I could back to the boat. The first attempt was unsuccessful. At this point, the depth is about 100ft and the visibility is about 20ft, needless to say,  I don't know what's around me and I can't see the guys anywhere. Literally five seconds later, the guys surface, about half a mile away as we're drifting further by the second. They can't even see the speck of white that is our boat, and start frantically screaming, screaming at the tops of their lungs.

We call the Coast Guard because we can't deny anymore that we need help and we needed to get our divers out of the water.  Miranda is on the phone with the operator, "GET US FUCKING HELP A.S.A.P!" I'm trying to yell to the guys, they still can't hear us. Our radio isn't working, even though we were on the right channel.

Fortunately, the wind was carrying their voices to us, but unfortunately, our voices weren't reaching them. We knew they had bloody fish so naturally we were terrified of bull sharks circling them. About five minutes later they stopped screaming, all the while, Miranda (on the phone with the completely useless Coast Guard) and I in the water trying to untangle this rope.  The fact that they stopped screaming frightened us even more. I still wasn't able to untangle the rope, we pull out a dive knife and mangle the thick rope while holding onto the propellers. We cut ourselves free, only now, the boat won't start. 

They started yelling again, "HELP!" All three of their voices at the same time, over and over again. We still couldn't see them at all, not even their bright spears which they were holding out of the water. We were the only boat out there. I had no cell service and the woman on the other end of the phone was having trouble hearing our coordinates to send help.  We were doing everything we could to try to start the boat. Minutes are going by, drifting further.  The buildings on shore, originally big blogs  were now teeny tiny squares.  Miranda turns the keys (yes, plural) as hard as she can, while I jerk the throttle up and down and press the only button that I was told not to push. We hear the sound of the engine starting. We start screaming and I get on the wheel and push the throttles forward was hard as I can, flooring it towards where I think the guys were.  We see one, only one. It was Johnny, without his BC, tank or spear. The first thought that went through my mind (before I realized he was actively swimming) was "Oh my God, they left Johnny....He's dead!" Miranda thought the opposite, "Oh my God, only Johnny survived! He left the other two!" Johnny jumps on the boat and takes over, announcing that the three of them are fine, just completely exhausted from treading against the current. We see Matt and Patrick floating, holding onto the bloody fish. They get in the boat, exhausted, their fish still flopping all over! In retrospect, I shouldn't have gotten that pumpkin spice latte this morning. Only one photo today, and it's the aftermath. The grouper in this picture was still alive when I attempted to kiss him and he snapped at me. I fake kissed him.



Starting a 30 day photo challenge next post <3. If you read this whole novel, congratulations.

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