Indonesia Immersion
Text by Richard Salkin It was one of the last dives of the trip — an underwater natural arch, bottoming out at about 90 fsw. I forget the name of the site but it was beautiful. The crew told us there was a stiff current which could be avoided if you position yourself in the lee, behind the arch. Since the current ran away from the nearby island they also advised a drifting ascent. No one could hold their position once they move out from behind the arch anyway, so it was best to just drift. I was about to start an ascent when I noticed Robby, who was in the same position. So we surfaced together. If I wasn’t in deco when we initiated the ascent, I was close. By the time we surfaced, the computer was in the Caution Zone. Quick aside, because it’s relevant: I dive a Zeagle Ranger, which has a third dump valve located where the flex hose connects to the BC itself. Throughout this trip, for no particular reason, I had gotten into the habit of using this dump valve on ascents. (Not the one at the end of the flex hose). You just rock yourself slightly upright, pull the flex hose outward, and adjust your buoyancy. It worked perfectly every time. Until this one dive. After an issue-free ascent and 5-minute stop, we surfaced and I noticed it was hard to stay afloat. It didn’t take long to figure out why: the whole inflator-deflator mechanism at the end of the hose had become detached. My BC was not able to hold air. Oy. I was diving with 10 pounds on a weight belt, which I dumped immediately. It still felt surprisingly hard to stay positively buoyant and I asked Robbie to inflate his own BC completely. I also muttered a string of foul language that would have made anyone except Robby (who has heard much worse) blush. I deployed my trusty collapsible dive flag — the one that looks like a candy cane when it’s folded up. The current is taking us toward — I don’t know. China? New Zealand? — and the boat is getting smaller and smaller while we drift, cuss and I wave my flag in a wide arc to get attention. And did I mention the seas? Three-to-fives, I would guess. Not unmanageable but not lake-like either. If you don’t know Robby, know these few relevant facts: When you’re in any kind of trouble, Robby is the friend you want with you. He’s also an engineer, and he thinks like one. He told me to turn around, and within 10 seconds had re-connected the inflator-deflator unit to the corrugated hose. He said he had modified his own Ranger years ago so there was no shoulder dump valve at all. It seemed to him like a problem waiting to happen. We could see the AA2. We could see the chase boats picking up other divers. But we weren’t sure if they even saw us. So I cussed some more and kept on waving the flag. I’m honestly not sure how long we drifted but I am sure it wasn’t as long as it seemed. Ten minutes is my guess, but Robby might disagree. Finally we were picked up, and even before handing up my gear I was yelling at the driver for not coming sooner. (I later apologized). I’ll admit it was scary, but what scared me most was back on the AA2’s dive deck, when Cindy gave me the kind of hug reserved for people who cheat death. A few lessons from this experience: If you have a shoulder dump valve on your BC, don’t use it. If you use a collapsible flag, get the one with the biggest flag and highest reach available. If you’re not in the habit of carrying a mirror, air horn or other supplemental signaling device, consider getting those. And if you don’t have an engineer’s mindset, try to dive with someone who does whenever possible. Back to Trip Report
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