In nearly fifteen years of diving, not including the two years lost to the recent pandemic, I’ve never had a divemaster cancel a dive mid-dive. I suppose there’s a first for everything, and I’d much rather have a dive called and everyone safe then let a dive continue and deal with consequences afterwards. But this was shocking and very frustrating.
On our way to the dive site after the boat briefing.
Our first dive was supposed to be easy. Six total divers — myself included — and all of us have previously dived in Cozumel. All of us had experience, knew our gear and knew what to expect. Cozumel is known for drift diving and it’s abundance of life means that no matter which site your at — a shallow reef or deeper wall dive, you’re almost guaranteed to see something good. We decided on a shallow reef dive, it had been a few months since they other five, a group from Canada, had been in the water and the divemaster wanted to make sure everyone’s skills were still sharp. They said they would be ‘ok.’ They’re familiar with the diving and knew the procedures. We were briefed by the divemaster none the less. Expectation of no more than 65 feet for 45 minutes to an hour. Slow decent and when it was time to come up, slow ascent. Pay attention to air and dive computers (for depth), stay together and follow the divemaster. Not hard. During the briefing though, I noticed the group were all talking amongst themselves.
Immediately upon entering the water, we had issues. One woman was having a panic attack at the surface, her significant other — who had more experience — kept swimming to her and interfering with the divemaster who was trying to calm her down. Another diver in the group was having problems descending. I was hanging out in midwater, about 20 to 25 feet, while the remaining divers were down on the bottom. Eventually the panicked diver called it and returned to the boat. The diver struggling to get down was still having issues and had to be pulled down by the DM.
Once we were all down, no one in the group of five paid attention to where the divemaster was. One diver flew past everyone, causing us to miss our intended dive site. Another went towards the wall and ended up hitting 85 feet. The divemaster continually was shaking his noisemaker to get their attention and get them to come back to him, and giving up once he realized no one was heeding him. After chasing the divers down, about 15 minutes into the dive the DM signaled to go up. It was clear that the dive becoming dangerous and the others were at risk.
At the surface, our divemaster was deeply disappointed in the group of five and called them out. They argued and had excuses — but the reality is if they had just listened on the boat all of this could’ve been avoided.
I’ve been diving for a long time, have logged many dives and have been in a lot of different conditions. Each time I head out on a boat, I always listen to the briefing. Why? Because I don’t know the conditions as well as the divemaster. I don’t know the reef as well. I don’t know the secret locations to find the best sea life or which section might have a ripping current. I don’t know if the wind is going to play a factor on the surface. You know who would know this? The divemaster. The one who does this every day, for a living.