More than six months of idleness, if that’s what you’d like to call it.
I may have cycled across a country, thoroughly explored another, attended weddings and other parties, and spent several days diving in Thailand… But really, I haven’t had to “work” for over half a year.
And then I arrived in Labuan Bajo, Indonesia.
I’ve signed myself up to become a divemaster. I’m still not sure what I’m doing with it. Probably nothing. But the accountant tells me the value in it. As I write this, I’m on my third day of a liveaboard trip run by the company. Each night on this boat sets its guests back almost $350 AUD. I get three nights, and my total course only costs me about $2,000 AUD plus some. This trip alone is worth half the cost. On top of that, I learn all sorts of skills, and I get another 40-50 dives in. Cost wise, it’s essentially a bargain.
What I didn’t expect coming in though, was just how many times I’d doubt what I was doing.
I questioned it before I began, only because it’s nearly two months of my time, for a certificate in something I’m unlikely to use. But then I did my accounting.
But now every few days I wonder if I should just stop.
The dive sites around Komodo are amazing – well deserved of their world class status. But for me, while I’ve loved each new place, it’s almost started feeling like a chore.
Throughout the course reading, I’ve been exposed to knowledge of the dangers of diving. A week into my time here I heard of a woman who died at one of the sites I recently went diving at.
This has all meant that I’ve developed a level of worry over diving itself, which isn’t the way to have fun.
But it’s also meant that I take my job as a future Divemaster more seriously than perhaps is really necessary.
On this Liveaboard trip, we have five guests, myself and an Instructor (our guide). As a Divemaster Trainee, I’ve been relegated to the back of the group, and instructed to keep an eye on people.
One guest told me he feels a lot more comfortable knowing I’m behind them. That’s great, and I’m glad I help them in that way. But for me, it’s really made diving feel like work. I feel as if I need to constantly watch this group. I count them every so often to make sure noone is missing. They like to spread out, to the extent that at times I can only just see the fins of some within the visibility limits, while I remain at the back with the slower photographers. I miss seeing the fascinating creatures that live within our oceans. It’s like diving stopped being fun. It’s like I lost my enjoyment for getting in the water.
And then there’s all the skills.
I never put much thought to them, but they’re hard. Some of them are hard enough, or make me feel uncomfortable enough, that I just don’t want to bother with them. Why would I want to do them when this course is all for naught at the end? But do them I must if I’m to complete.
And at the moment, I’m still intending to finish.
I’m not one to just give up.
So while I’ve lost the fun for now, I hope to find it again soon. I just need to get myself out for a few more “fun dives”, where I don’t feel I have a responsibility to watch over others. And as for the skills, perhaps I should just try and get them out of the way. Remove the constant nag of them that sits on my mind while they remain uncompleted.
For now, the course will continue.
Read More at: Indonesia Travel
Share this Post