Don't Fake Comfort

I've spent more than a few dives putting up with things I could have fixed if I'd just said something.

An underwater STOP sign warning divers not to enter a cave unless cave trained

Most divers pretend to be comfortable at some point, and I've certainly done it myself. You're colder than expected, something about your equipment is bothering you, or you feel hurried before getting into the water. Somebody asks if you're ready, and you say yes because everyone else appears to be. Nothing about the dive improves because you said it. Your buddy simply has less accurate information about the person they're diving with.

I understand the temptation. Nobody wants to hold up the boat or delay a group of divers who are already suited up. There's also a tendency to associate comfort with competence, as though admitting something bothers you suggests you aren't particularly good at diving. I've come to see that differently. Being comfortable underwater is important, but pretending to be comfortable accomplishes nothing.

Cold is a good example. A little discomfort might be tolerable, but as you become increasingly cold, concentration suffers and your breathing and gas consumption can change. Eventually, you're thinking more about getting out of the water than enjoying the dive. Equipment can create similar distractions. A tight neck seal, an uncomfortable mask, or something about your configuration that doesn't feel right might seem too minor to mention. I've learned that small annoyances have a way of demanding considerably more attention underwater than they do on the surface.

Mental comfort is sometimes harder to recognize. There are days when I'm distracted, unusually tense, or simply need a few minutes to get myself organized. None of those things necessarily means I should cancel the dive, but ignoring them doesn't help. If I'm preoccupied or uncomfortable, I may not be paying enough attention to everything else happening around me.

There's also a responsibility to the people I'm diving with. My buddy cannot know I'm struggling with something unless I communicate it. If I insist everything is fine, they have every reason to believe me. They might choose a longer route, maintain a pace I'm uncomfortable with, or simply assume I'm enjoying myself when I'm not. I've effectively asked them to plan a dive around a version of me that doesn't exist.

These days I'm much more willing to say I'm cold, need a minute, or want to change something about the plan. Sometimes the solution is a simple equipment adjustment. Sometimes we shorten the dive, and occasionally we decide not to get in at all. I don't consider those admissions particularly remarkable, and I don't want my buddies to feel they need to justify making them either.

I still want to be an easy person to dive with, but I've learned that being agreeable isn't necessarily the same thing. I'd rather dive with someone who tells me they're uncomfortable than someone who spends the entire dive pretending otherwise. I owe them the same consideration, even when acknowledging something is wrong feels a little inconvenient.

I've spent enough time underwater tolerating problems I could have addressed on the surface. I'd prefer not to keep doing that, particularly when fixing them usually requires nothing more complicated than speaking up.

—Signature of Tyler Allison