More on topic,
That's Dean's blue hole, or so I think.
Largely the fear of the unknown is gone in this world... But once you go beneath the waves you're not in your world anymore.
This is both terrifying and exhilarating, that there is more that we may never know... Beneath the waves.
I may never go to the center of the Earth (not without dying at least), but I will still have several distinct memories that bring terror to mind... One where I was in a rubber hamster ball all alone in the sea (long story), another where I surfaced into a swarm of jellyfish (FUKNOPE) and to be honest many,
many more, but one stands out to me as the one that embodies the fear of the unknown.
I was on the water on the ocean floor when the sun set down. We left earlier from the boat than anyone else to enjoy the few seconds of natural light before it was gone to see if we could find things of interest (such as freaking 2m wide Murray Eels, awesome sight to behold), and it was beautiful.
Within so few time visibility extended to the narrow cone of light your flashlight could spare you. Every move you made sparked with a green halo, and all around you urchins as black as the sky above started emerging from the shadows.
Quickly the water temperature chills you till you yearn to ascend... But you still go on, searching for something to see, something worth seeing. Something lying in the unknown, in all of those shadows and crevices - SOMEWHERE there must be something. If there was something, I will not know. There were movements and half glimpsed symbols which glittered in and out of visual existence. Was I imagining it all? Was this the effect of water pressure, the cold or... Fear?
Eventually we notice we were getting low on air, just enough for a return journey.
And that's when the other 2 friends I was diving with shrugged their shoulders and looked to me.
Those bastards. I was the only one keeping bearing all along.
The world outside was gone. The only thing we could see was the ocean floor. All around us we could see nothing, unless you count the ever shifting mass of black spikes something to behold.
We couldn't ascend, we had gone too far from the boat to surface. The current would've drifted us off if we surfaced, or worse exhausted ourselves in the middle of the sea, so we had to stay low. Not that we could do a pressure stop to ascend even if we wanted to.
So that meant we had to go back following the ocean floor. Time slowly ticking away with every slow, calculated breath.
It was easy keeping bearing. It was harder believing it. When you turned back everything had changed, what seems like solid razors from one end seemed to be a hollow umbrella from the other, and all the bleached white coral in the sand of the exact same colour in the world couldn't convince me any better.
We kept going. Me in front, hand by my eyes.
Well, at least I was right.
We found a familiar place (as in completely absent of any features whatsoever) and ascended to make our safety stop.
5 minutes suspended in black waters. You can't see up, you can't see down and there was no point even bothering to look in any other direction. Just empty space and the comforting murk of the plankton.
One of my friends turns off our torches.
You bastard.
5 minutes suspended in black waters. I had to make sure we didn't drift out of eyesight of each other.
Thanks friend.
You bastard.
There was no doubt about it, the crackling roar of the air crashing from our ears announced our return to the surface.
And so we also found out just how far away we ended up from the boat. Maybe we drifted off in those 5 minutes of suspension. Maybe we swam out too far? Either way, we started swimming back. We had about 50-70 bars of air left each.
They snorkeled back whilst I lay back and started kicking. Scrubs. Lrn2relax.
Then the current changed and started pushing us into the reef.
The very cutty reef.
Full of spiky things that make you drown.
Fuck you current.
So we swam back from afar, in those black waters. Laughing.
Success.
In retrospect I wonder if I was thinking straight at all. I mean, I got a piece of rusty ship stuck in my leg once and do you know what I did? Pulled the sucker out and kept swimming.
And do you know what?
Only right now, do I think that might have had something to do with the illness I got later. And that lasted about a few hours before I got better.
Hyper buffed immune system ftw.
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Topic: Things that made you absolutely terrified today (Read 2009593 times)