You were on the Indianapolis?

Napoleon Bonaparte said "There are two levers for moving men - interest and fear."

This entry is about fear.

There are abstract fears that I have faced in my life, like making a living as an actor or travelling the ABC's wide world of sports. These are fears which you don't face all at once and are, after all, abstract, and so I never REALLY feared them or had a moment of confrontation that caused me to doubt my resolve. Also, they weren't my fears, I never feared such things, they're societal fears.

The fears I wish to discuss are real, they are the kind that make you want to scream like a Girl(TM), or hide behind a tree, or wet yourself in a most undignified fashion. That sentence seems to imply that there is a dignified way to wet yourself. I am not sure that is true, but I digress...

Yoda said "Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering."

In my recent experience, fear leads to panic, panic leads to helplessness, helplessness leads to... I don't know because it all sort of becomes blurry at that point.

I was very excited, with maybe a little increasing trepidation, about my first ocean dive. My training had been a few weeks in pools and "scuba park" lakes; the ocean is where the real action is. The life. The colors. The... sharks...

See, I knew I had a fear of sharks. Of course! Who doesn't have a healthy respect for this predator, this beautiful machine? Thing is, I had forgotten how deep this fear goes. More on that later. Suffice to say I went into this knowing and ready to confront and defeat my fear of this genus carcharhinus, and maybe even to appreciate the beauty of swimming near one. Not too near. And not a great white. Or a hammerhead. But... Well... anyway... I had forgotten an early childhood fear, here. Something deep and old within me. I'm going to lay out an ugly truth about myself here, a sad, silly, and irrational vulnerability, because... well, I'm going to conquer it. I am not afraid to admit that I was a great white pansy about a week ago right now.

Let's set up the story. As we begin, my Cumulative Fear Level (CFL) out of a possible 100: 10, thinking about sharks.

We got to the dive shop with our gear early on Thursday morning. Soon the American couple, both in their 50s (I think) who owned and ran the dive shop arrived. They unlocked the place and we all sat around talking as we grabbed what additional equipment we needed for the dive. They were great, their manner put us at ease, and I was sure we'd be in good hands. Fear -6, CFL now 4.

We didn't know it, but we were also waiting for the crew to arrive. The owners were neither one going out with us. We'd reserved this and had only spoken with him. Fear +4.

The crew arrived. Three young(ish) local Cancun guys, nice enough, and we boarded the small boat. It was not as big as I'd expected. It was bigger than your basic speedboat you'd use for say water skiing on a lake, but smaller than any dive boats I could find online to provide examples here. Anyway, we got our gear on the boat with our divemaster, the videographer (we didn't buy the video) and the "captain" to head out. We began our trip out of the inlet, and we sat down to make our dive plan. All was according to plan. We would head to Punta Negra for a 60ft dive for 47 minutes or more, then would plan from there. CFL hanging steady at 8.

I have made my living at sea for over two years now, and have ridden on tender boats and ferries, all kinds of craft... however, nothing prepared me for the kind of rough seas in this small open boat. I had not considered that THIS would freak me out. . We had been playing in the storm surge on the beach the day before, it was amazingly rough - fun for a bit but exhausting to be in for long. People we talked to said it's always a bit rough during hurricane season. Since Hurricane Felix had just been nearby, it was much more than usual. I had prepared myself for being underwater, I did not anticipate being airborne in the boat. I white-knuckled the bench, even after we'd stopped, and had trouble putting on my gear. We moved to a shallower area, deciding to begin with a 35ft dive, and while we began to feel a little seasick... all I wanted to do was get the hell out of the boat and under these horrible swells. If I'd had my gear on before we got out there, I may've bailed out early!

Fear (gradually) +60, CFL 68.

I feel a little rushed getting into the water. My heartrate is still up, I do my backroll entry once I'm geared up. I'm out of the boat. Fear -10. Being a newbie and already shaken up, I have failed to properly orient myself before entering the water as I was taught. I come up and suddenly feel very alone in the sea for a moment. Fear +15.

CFL 83. I look around an see Vanessa and our divemaster at the nearby buoy where the boat is tied. Things seem a lot farther away when you are in the middle of the ocean. I swim to them, all the while trying to slow my heartrate and ease my breathing. I am a little panicked at this point, but not bad. Fear level -10. Having been trained in lakes, I was not prepared for the severity of the waves and the current. The sickness I felt on the boat is now rearing its ugly head with everyone - even the divemaster says so. He insists we get under very quickly. Trying to hold it together for everyone's sake, it all seems very frantic and I can't get my BCD deflate in my hand right and I'm trying... not... to...

quiet. water surrounds me. the tumult is gone, replaced by quiet. Fear -15. We reach a certain depth, equalizing all the way and doing thingsas they should be done.

In my head, I snap to my senses as my CFL goes below 60. My mind is racing faster than my heart now. I am thankful I have such a patient dive buddy and I feel so helpless but I really want to do this....

The divemaster is near the bottom now, and we are adjusting our buoyancy to meet him. We begin to realize the current is VERY strong. Hurricane season, again. He's trying to get us to come to him, and pretty well can't. For a good two minutes we kick our fins and do what we can and cannot do anything but stay in place. Comical, if it weren't real. Fear +8. finally we manage to get to him, and as we are doing so I see my first stingray magically appear, shaking the sand from himself and fluttering away like the unearthly creature he is. Amazing. Fear -10. CFL 56.

I was told after the fact that in many ways this was a worst case scenario for a first ocean dive. It wasn't too bright. It's as dark at 30 as I'm told it usually is at 60 due to weather and current stirring things up.

We swim across/against the current for a bit. I get a slight handle on my buoyancy but begin to realize I need more weight. Still, I'm gliding along between Vanessa and the divemaster as we approach a reef... and whammy, first shark. I see it before the DM... the videographer (whom I see for the first time underwater at this point - where did he come from?) and and DM snap their straps against their tanks to get Vanessa's attention. She is clearing her mask and drifting toward the shark. She doesn't see it, it doesn't seem to see her. We don't want either one of them to surprise each other. No fear change - this is actually awesome. It's not huge, 4 maybe 5 feet long. I remember thinking it's the perfect first shark to see. Vanessa sees it. It's fine. It's docile and swims along on its way. I kinda even follow it, at a distance, for a bit. My buoyancy is still an issue, I keep having to correct with my BCD. Salt water buoyancy is very different that fresh water, and this is my first experience in salt water.

"Awesome," I'm thinking. I just saw a shark, and I'm okay. Fear -10, but still a healthy 46. This is Vanessa's picture of our first sharky friend. Cue music.
So we get to the end of the reef and the DM motions for us to swim ahead down the side of the rock ledge on the other side of the reef. The current is rushing down this side of the rocks much faster, and as we come around the end I am having much more trouble with my buoyancy in addition to having to fight to stay with the group - or even in place. Over the next 8 minutes or so, CFL +20.

We get to what I'll call a little clearing where the rocks fall back and the sea floor is a little lower. There's a big ledge under the rocks extending for a long way. I'm having some trouble with buoyancy and it's concerning me, Vanessa is working to help. The DM comes over and gives me more weight. We're okay for a bit, looking at coral and such. Then I notice to DM and the video guy are suddenly fascinated by something. (music louder)

What on earth could it be, says me...

We get near them and the DM turns back and makes the underwater hand signals for "look over there" and then for "shark"(which he'd used earlier)... and then the universal hand signal for "gigantic."

Vanessa swims a little closer, I hang back. I have already seen a nice sized shark, he was a friend and I'm sure we'll correspond later. I did not see the need to make another such friend on this trip. Somehow, though, I push myself forward. I swim up further and...

Bloody hell! That thing is huge! All kinds of alarms go off in my head... Fear +14 (CFL 80)

I backpedal a bit. I keep my eyes on the shark. It is gigantic. 10-12 feet long. It appears to have found a nice spot under the rock ledge to take a nice sharknap. More power to her, says I. Let her sleep, I try to communicate to Vanessa by tugging on her fin. Vanessa is not entirely unphased by the shark, she is trying to hold herself away by using a couple of fingers on a bare area of rockledge. The current is trying to push her closer. I am ruining this strategy with my tugging. She soon turns back and moves back toward me. The DM and videographer are flanking the shark at a slight distance, staying just to the right and left of the rock ledge opening.

Then, one of them goads the other into POKING THE SLEEPING SHARK. This is not what you are supposed to do.

Yes, let's poke the sleeping predator so that when it wake up it's surprised, frightened, and feels cornered. Good idea.

The shark wakes up and shoots out toward the videographer, slipping just past him as it turns outward, in fact slapping him in the face with its tail. He got that on video.

Between the shark and its path to safety? Me and Vanessa. It darts directly at us. It is coming straight for us like every bad dream I have ever had. Then, suddenly, it veers slightly left and heads out and away.

Fear to 100.

Check, please!

At this point, the dive is over for me. I'm done. In retrospect, it's one of the most awesome things that has ever happened to me, but at the time I admit I was as afraid as I have ever been. If it hadn't been for the boat ride, the rough seas, the hurricane season current... the shark alone wouldn't have done it. Maybe. I probably would've been okay to continue, but my blood was already up and this docile shark was just the straw that broke the camel's back.

We consult for a minute with the DM, and I can't decide what to do... finally I call the dive. We ascend and get out of the water. I get on the boat and feel more than a little sheepish about having been so cowardly. I still do, but having been through this extraordinary first dive, I've already dealt with a number of issues some people never do. Dealt with them BADLY, but... shut up.

Later that day, I call ed my parents to check in. I am reminded how early this fear of sharks goes, and how deep it was. After I saw JAWS on the ABC movie of the week at age 6 or so, living on a farm in Kansas, I had to be coerced into any body of water which I could not see entirely into. I'm sure there's a term for this, but that point when looking down you cannot see into the water, the surface becomes reflective - that bothered me, because I didn't know what was in it. Sharks could be anywhere in my 6 year old mind, even in the 4 foot deep, chlorinated, above ground swimming pool in our backyard in Kansas. This fear lessened with age, but mainly because living in Kansas a fear of sharks can be like a fear of ghosts - the concept can be frightening, but the idea of ever being actually confronted with one is highly unlikely. I took up body-boarding in California and loved it, and thought I had this fear nailed shut. Mom had been surprised I was scuba diving to begin with, she says but... hey, I've spent a good deal of time on a ship with Jean Michel Costeau and his cohorts. Learned to love the ocean, learned a lot about sharks, and known many who've swum near much more aggressive species than those I encountered. My dive instructor had commended me for being a great student. My dive buddy is a certified rescue diver. I was ready.

Or so I thought.

The day was not ruined. One of the tenets of diving is that any diver can call off any dive at any time for any reason, no questions asked. I talked through my fears honestly and thoroughly to try to get a handle on exactly what happened. This will not be the end of Aquaman.

Again, thank goodness for the patience of my dive buddy.