My deepest dive

Aqaba, Jordan, 1988 — our deepest dive: 66 metres on air.

Ships Place, Aqaba, Jordan

In December 1988, Hélène and I travelled through Jordan, driving from Amman all the way south to Aqaba, where we spent several days diving in the Red Sea. It was there that we made what would become the deepest dive of our lives. On 30 December 1988, we descended to a depth of 66 metres on air at a dive site called Ship’s Place. The site consists of a deep gully descending from about five metres into the blue. Cooler water rising from greater depths attracts large pelagic fish, and the area was also known for its impressive Napoleon wrasse. It was a spectacular place — and certainly a dive for experienced divers.

We had planned the dive carefully and were determined to stick to that plan. Looking down into the depths, the water gradually lost the brilliant blue normally associated with tropical reefs. As we descended along the wall, it became a dark cobalt and eventually almost black. It felt as though we were  skydivers falling in slow motion.Beyond forty metres, the underwater world changed completely. Light faded, colours disappeared and the brilliant reds, yellows and blues of the corals above became muted shades of grey. There was an extraordinary silence. We had entered what seemed like another world.

At 66 metres, I checked my instruments — depth, time and air pressure. We had reached our limit.

I signalled to Hélène: time to go back. We began the long ascent, carefully following our planned procedure. After about 35 minutes we finally surfaced beneath the brilliant Jordanian sun. With my buoyancy jacket inflated, I floated on the surface and took a deep breath. After the darkness below, the sunlight seemed almost dazzling. It was exhilarating. What I remember most vividly is not the depth itself, but the extraordinary transition from the Technicolor world of the shallow reef to the almost black-and-white world far below — and then, slowly, seeing colour and sunlight return during the ascent.

Looking back today, I would regard 66 metres on compressed air as an extreme dive. Nitrogen narcosis at such depths can seriously impair judgement and problem-solving ability, and a relatively minor problem can rapidly become dangerous. Diving knowledge, equipment and accepted practices have also evolved considerably since 1988.We did it, we planned it carefully, and it became one of those experiences I will never forget. But perhaps the most important lesson from any deep dive remains the simplest one:

The real achievement is not reaching the bottom — it is coming safely back to the surface.

Aqaba, Jordan, 1988 — diving the Red Sea, with the Cedar Pride in the distance.

The Cedar Pride

The day before, on 29 December 1988, I had made another memorable dive in Aqaba, this time with my friend Rien Broere: the wreck of the Cedar Pride.

The Cedar Pride was a Lebanese freighter that had been deliberately sunk in the 1980s to create a diving attraction. Resting on her port side across two reefs, she had already begun to develop into an artificial reef by the time we visited her. Soft corals were colonising the wreck, while groupers, barracuda and many other reef fish had made the ship their home. We descended towards the stern and swam through part of the open stern section before exploring the cargo-deck area. Around the bow we encountered small fan corals and increasing amounts of marine growth. But what impressed me most was the combination of the wreck itself, the remarkable visibility and the abundance of fish. From amidships, much of the vessel could be seen disappearing into the blue — an unforgettable sight.Nearby lies Osama’s Reef, a beautiful reef descending from the shallows towards a drop-off, with an abundance of coral and fish life and occasional larger pelagic visitors. The Cedar Pride and Ship’s Place were very different dives, but together they remain among my strongest memories of diving in the Red Sea.

These were the dives that dreams were made of.

And when I look back on all those adventures, I realise how fortunate I was in another respect as well: I was lucky enough to have a wife who not only shared my life, but was willing to descend into that other world with me.

These dives were the stuff that dreams were made of.

I feel blessed too, by having a wife who would experience it with me!

Cees

Getting home safely — the most important part of every dive.

Getting home safely:

Preparations for a deep dive are essential to get home safe. Several factors are important if deep divers want to keep their sporting fun safe, experienced aquanauts say:

Preparation for any deep dive is essential. Going down is only half the journey — the real objective is always to get home safely. Deep diving requires careful planning, appropriate equipment, experience and, above all, respect for your own limitations.

• Preparation. Every deep dive begins long before entering the water. Depth, bottom time, gas supply, ascent and decompression requirements, currents and emergency procedures all have to be considered in advance. A dive plan is only useful if you are disciplined enough to follow it.
• Support. Deeper and more demanding dives require adequate surface support. The dive boat, crew and equipment must be prepared not only for the planned dive, but also for situations in which something goes wrong.
• Equipment and redundancy. At greater depths there is little room for equipment failure. Reliable equipment and independent back-up systems are essential. Modern technical diving has developed considerably since the days when we made these dives, with different gas mixtures, equipment configurations and procedures now used for dives well beyond normal recreational limits.
• Experience, experience, experience. No amount of equipment can replace the judgement that develops through years of diving. Deep diving is not something to approach by taking shortcuts; experience has to be built gradually, dive by dive.

By the time Hélène and I made our 66-metre dive in Aqaba in 1988, I had already logged more than 260 dives and had reached CMAS 4-star level, later complemented by PADI Master Scuba Diver qualifications. Even with that experience, looking back today I realise just how demanding such a dive on air really was. At those depths, nitrogen narcosis can seriously affect judgement and reaction time, while gas consumption and decompression obligations increase rapidly. A 66-metre dive on air is not something I would present today as an example to follow. It belongs to my diving history — an extraordinary experience from another era of recreational diving.

We went down to experience that mysterious world far below the surface. But the lesson that remained with me was much simpler:

The depth you reach is never the measure of a successful dive.
Getting home safely is.