CLUB DIVING
Hooked!
Hayley Whiteman tells the story of how she discovered the joys of BSAC club diving when she signed up with Leicester Underwater Exploration Club
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Above left: Hayley and the club Chairman Kev Briggs relaxing after a dive
Above right: A lumpsucker fish
Top right: A ballan wrasse
My dive kit is washed and drying in the garden, the bathroom looks like a bomb’ s hit it and there’ s a crab claw on the side of the bath. I am completely shattered. I ache everywhere. I’ m also a bit concerned because when I stand up I get this weird rocking sensation as though I’ m on a boat.
It could be Suzanne Lavelle’ s fault, as Leicester Underwater Exploration Club( LUEC) Secretary she’ s the first one I actually spoke to. If she’ d been a bit less friendly, I might never have tried it.
My training started in the pool, with Snorkel Instructors John Richardson and Bruce Moore, I was given goggles and flippers on the way in but they were mask and fins by the time I got out. This may have been my point of no return. Next came the theory training. Training Officer Richard Sunter was first – firm but friendly. He was followed by Steve Morgan( Theory Instructor and rebreather man) with his fizzy drink bottle – used to explain Boyle’ s Law as I recall. Adam Waters was next( Theory Instructor) who resorted to buying cakes for his trainees – it was a cheap trick but it worked. Then Alison Allan( LUEC’ s
Diving Officer) with her 120 per cent enthusiasm – all of them, every single one, could have said“ it’ s not too late to back out” but they never did.
Then the moment arrived … scuba training. I met Jeff Corbett, my instructor, for the first time. It was tough: masses of kit to lug about, gallons of Aylestone pool water to swallow. Jeff made it fun. He was patient( he needed to be), polite when I got it wrong, full of praise when I got it right. And finally he got me to my first milestone – the inland dive site Stoney Cove.
The day came for my first open-water dive. Conditions were overcast, there was a chill in the air still and it was breezy. Jeff took me to the water’ s edge to show me what I was going in to and I very nearly chickened out. I kitted up slowly, I confess to putting my semi-drysuit on inside out twice before I realised the writing should be on the outside, but I blame this on Jackie for not turning it the right way out when she lent it to me. When I was ready, I took the plunge AND IT WAS FREEZING. After my brain cleared, my thoughts went back to Kev’ s sales patter right at the start of my journey and his reasons for not doing a diving course in blue, warm, holiday waters … could I EVER forgive him?
But I carried on, week after week, and clocked up 10 or so sheltered water dives. I became acquainted with 5am on Sunday mornings, ate cheesy chips and learned the etiquette of changing in a car park. I scared myself stupid sometimes, but I loved it and finally got to go on the first promised trip to the sea. The time for the club’ s St Abbs weekend had arrived.