Posts Tagged ‘bad diving’

In breaking news at The Scuba Monkey’s top-secret research lab (recently re-located to Scotland, just off the main high street in Orkney, past the Fish and Chip shop on the left. Ask for Bob, red beard, glasses, you know the fella) it has been revealed that the Oxford English Dictionary is to be revised due to a spate of incompetent divers.

As it stands, the word ‘Autonomous’ is written on the back of all diving certification cards from Open Water level through, Advanced Open Water level and beyond. This wording was thought to mean that the diver had achieved a level of knowledge, learning and self-sufficiency necessary to dive independently and globally with a similarly qualified dive buddy.

However, recent findings have indicated that the vast majority of supposedly qualified divers are massively incompetent and cannot even prepare themselves for a dive without a team of trained dive professionals dressing them like a small baby having it’s nappy changed and pandering to their every whim.

Rare photo of diver putting their own fins on.

Rare photo of diver putting their own fins on.

On a recent diving trip, Dick Byrne, 63, a recently retired accounts manager, fully qualified diver and irritating arse said “I’ve dived globally and have over 50 dives in my logbook. However, I still can’t manage to put on my own hood, gloves, mask, fins…anything in fact. I can’t even manage to switch on my own tank before kitting up.” Looking baffled he added “I know it says ‘autonomous diver’ on the back of my certification card but I thought that meant I had to sit on the dive deck like Professor Stephen Hawking while 3 people dressed me and then eased me into the water.”

“I thought you were going to equalise my mask for me.”

Rosy Beaver, 28, of Boston, USA, a web designer and olympic standard wet-blanket, said “When I go diving I like to wait until 3 minutes before the dive before checking my equipment and then decide I’d like different fins, mask, gloves. And then to sit there like a helpless animal while a team of dive staff run around after me like I’m Kanye West in a Gucci shop. I and I never put on my own fins. Never.” Looking surprised, she added “I thought Autonomous meant you would be dressed automatically anyway.”

Anass Rhammar, 36, an IT consultant originally from Mumbai, said “When I dive I have a diving computer. However, I have no idea what the strange figures are it provides me on screen are. I just follow the guide blindly like a lemming on a suicide mission. It looks good though, it has a red strap.” Dumbfounded, he said “I thought Autonomous meant I had to wear it in the car too”.

Representatives from the Oxford English Dictionary are presently revising the dictionary definition of ‘Autonomous’ to read: stands a 50/50 chance of being competent and able to think and act for themselves.

Maggie, 38, an Instructor working in Indonesia said “…most holiday divers are about as autonomous as my 3 year old nephew. Yesterday I had to explain to someone which of their boots was for the left foot and which was for the right foot.” Shaking her head she added “Soon we’ll be towing them around the dive site on long ropes so they don’t have to move their legs either.”

"If you don't let me use my strobes I'll scream and scream until I can't scream anymore...so there!"

“If you don’t let me use my strobes I’ll scream and scream until I can’t scream anymore…so there!”

In breaking news at The Scuba Monkey’s top-secret research labs (next to Nangtong Supermarket, ask for Bob, the guy with the red beard and glasses) new research has revealed that that boarding a diving vessel can have an adverse effect on mental age and cognitive ability.

In a sample of average holiday divers from Australia to the Red Sea it was found that normal, rational, adult humans who normally hold down responsible jobs in day-to-day life transform into mentally challenged 8 year old children on boarding a diving safari boat.

Sally Arseface, a 31 year Financial Advisor, from Toronto, Canada, said “In my normal working life I can manage to set an alarm clock, get washed, dressed AND catch my bus to work like a normal adult – where I then manage a team of 8 people.” “However”, she said shaking her head, “as soon as I set foot on the boat I appear to have morphed into a petulant 7 year old girl who eats Haribo and chain-watches ‘Frozen’ on DVD. I can’t manage to wake up when scheduled without a wake up call from my Dad, sorry, Instructor. And I can’t arrive on time for a dive briefing despite normally catching a bus twice a day in the ‘real world’. I really have no idea what has happened to me…baffling.”

"Ok, so you've eaten now. Now they'll be a briefing in 30 mins ok?"

“Ok, so you’ve eaten now. Now they’ll be a briefing in 30 mins ok?”

Mike Weaselface, a 47 year old IT consultant from Norway and complete prat said “Back home in Norway I work in the corporate world and am able to follow simple instructions, guidelines and rules without any problem. I drive my car within the rule of the road. I work in my business within the professional guidelines set out, I’m polite with colleagues and yet… as soon as we arrived at the dive centre myself and my wife inexplicably began behaving like a pair of complete twats. My wife threw her cert cards at the instructor like a petulant teenager who’s been told she’s grounded. And then when advised to dive as instructed within local guidelines and not flash delicate marine life, touch coral and follow local ecological guidelines we both began stamping our feet on the boat and throwing a hissy-fit to the tour leader like a pair of toddlers denied ice-cream. It’s embarrassing really.”

Rene Bignose, 53, from Lyon, said “I’ve regressed so far back to infancy since arriving at the dive centre I can’t even manage to dress myself on the boat and have to have a team of local staff put on my wetsuit and fins. I’m like some sort of retard. I even went so far as to leave all the windows open in my cabin when it was raining so that the electric fan would catch fire because I have the mental age of a 4 year old now.”

"Put my fins on! Put my fins on!"

“I don’t know where I left my weight belt!”

Arlene Cousteau, 35, a local instructor, said “It’s strange seeing grown adults not even be able to keep track of where they left their towel or t-shirt. It’s like a temporary lobotomy on check-in. Some days we’re left with 20 Forrest Gumps on the boat. Still, you have to humour them or in this day and age they’ll write a snotty review on Trip Advisor if the water is too salty or the fish don’t look fishy enough for them. Bless ‘em.”

In breaking news at the Scuba Monkey’s top secret research labs near the Nangtong Supermarket (ask for Bob – red beard, glasses…) it’s been discovered that diving education now may cease at the Advanced Open Water Level as – by then – you know everything there is to know about scuba diving. This new research immediately renders any speciality training and the qualifications of rescue diver, divemaster, assistant instructor, instructor, staff instructor and master instructor completely worthless.

Anything beyond the 3rd blue box 'Advanced Open Water' is simply there for decoration.

Anything beyond the 4th light blue box ‘Advanced Open Water’ is simply there for decoration.

Research conducted on a series of diving safari boats ranging from the Red Sea to the Maldives has revealed that by the time you reach approximately 42 logged dives and PADI/SSI advanced open water level you are a diving god. Any further diving education is unnecessary and a complete waste of money it has been revealed.

Wrong regulator in? Check. No computer? Check. No Clue? Check.

Wrong regulator in? Check. No computer? Check. No Clue? Check.

Antonio Fernandez, 38, an IT consultant and complete bell-end from Barcelona, said “…look, I’ve done nearly 60 dives now and I’m Advanced Open Water. That means there’s nothing left to learn. I am Jacques Cousteau, near enough. I find these so-called ‘dive briefings’ they force me to attend on safari boats both a waste of time and very patronising…I’m certainly not interested in hints or tips from one of these so-called professional divers on the boat.” he said sneering his nose, before adding “Just don’t ask me to put my own fins on without the help of the boat crew or launch an SMB.”

the-danger-of-scuba-diving-6-pics_4

Safety Briefings? Why bother…

Barry Crotch, 26, from Essex, an Advanced Open Water diver with a staggering 33 dives and a series of terrible tattoos, said “Naturally, I know everything about diving now: I have nearly 40 dives. I don’t even need a guide or buddy I’m that good. So I find it deeply insulting that local instructors with 1000’s of dives may ask me how much gas I have left a couple of times during the dive – or ask me to stay slightly behind them. I mean, who do they think they’re dealing with?! Some no-mark with no experience?! I’m virtually a fish.” He then added “Although, having said all that I have no idea what a no-decompression limit is or why my computer keeps beeping at me. I’m sure it’s not important or I’d know what it was.”

No buoyancy skills? no problem! he's a diving god - no advice or further training required.

No buoyancy skills? no problem! he’s a diving god – no advice or further training required.

We spoke with Bart Kowalski, 39, an experienced instructor with global experience and 1000’s of logged dives in varied conditions. “I’m pretty much redundant as a diving professional. I mean, there’s just no validation for my job. This new breed of Advanced Open Water divers know everything required to make a safe dive after 40 logged dives; dive management, gas management, site selection, current management, briefings, rescue techniques, profiling the sites and choosing the most suitable route, keeping the group safe under water.”. Bart then paused for a second before saying “Oh, hang on, my mistake….no they don’t. They know fuck all!”

In breaking news at the Scuba Monkey’s top secret research labs it’s been revealed that working full-time in the diving industry for a period in excess of 2-3 years may result in an affliction known as ‘Instructor Tourettes’.

We only asked him where a nice place to get pizza was - now we've got a full briefing.

We only asked him where a nice place to get pizza was – now we’ve got a full briefing.

Sufferers of this condition display several signs and symptoms. If you notice any of the following in your diving colleagues or yourself, please notify your dive centre manager and seek medical advice:

  • Inability to communicate without using hand signals (ask your colleague or friend to say ‘moray eel’ and see if they can keep their hands still)
  • Sufferers usually speak in a slow, broken, grammatically incorrect form of generic non-regional English although they’re talking to a 5 year old.
  • Faint aroma of salt-water at all times.
  • White band on arm where dive computer would normally be present.
  • Collection of well-worn and slightly aromatic fake quicksilver/billabong flip-flops.
  • Collection of salt-stained and faded dive centre t-shirts.
  • Bags under eyes due to sleep deprivation/nitrogen loading.
  • Disproportionately small bank balance and/or large overdraft.
  • No socks.
  • Panic attacks in big cities/crowds.
  • In acute cases sufferers may turn every conversation into a dive briefing.
danger_scuba_diving_signal

Help me…I can only talk in hand signals. No-one warned me about this on my Divemaster course.

Mike, 42, from Ipswich, said “I used to be a professional in the corporate world. Now, after several years working in the diving industry, I can’t hold a normal conversation without discussing fish or using my hands to signal – even ordering a beer at a bar I start talking like I’m a childrens TV presenter. It’s embarrassing. My friends just take the piss out of me.”

Emma, 37, from York, said “I’ve been an instructor working in Asia for 8 years. When I landed back in London and was faced with the modern world I was like Crocodile Dundee or some sort of caveman who’d been thawed out from the ice-age and never seen civilization before – I could barely cross the road without freaking out.”

The best treatment should you have a friend or colleague suffering in this way is to provide them with lots of cold beer and a comfortable bed for a few nights.

Please help these poor unfortunate souls to rehabilitate into normal life.

With time and effort these people can regain normal behaviour and speech patterns and become useful members of society again.

Invisible to most novice divers.

Invisible to most novice divers.

In breaking news today at The Scuba Monkey’s top-secret research labs (just off the A12, near the Texaco Fuel Station and Wild Bean Café, ask for ‘Bob’, red-beard, glasses, you know the bloke…) groundbreaking new evidence has been uncovered regarding novice divers.

Previous schools of thought has assumed that completing your introductory one or two scuba diving courses had no bearing on the students’ eyesight or powers of perception. However, recent evidence has suggested that being a novice diver in the 10-100 dive range can drastically impair vision and memory.

Dr. A Hedgehog of Scuba Monkey Labs commented “…in recent tests these new divers went through a transformation following their basic training. Not only did they, seemingly overnight and for no reason, develop an over-inflated sense of their own diving ability – which in today’s narcissistic society is perfectly normal – but more surprisingly appeared to lose a large proportion of their vision or memory when diving.’

A narcissistic idiot earlier today.

A narcissistic idiot earlier today.

Asked to elaborate, Dr A Hedgehog said “As you’re aware, an experienced diver can usually enjoy the full underwater experience regardless of environment; the topography, the ambience, the water movement, the variety of life from small hermit crabs, dancing shrimps and nudibranchs to schooling fish and beyond, the history of the wreck, the interaction with fellow divers, the peace and tranquility and the sheer wonder of simply being underwater all are enough to keep the experienced diver amused…usually for the whole duration of the dive.”

“However”, he said shaking his head sadly, “this 10-100 logged dives demographic seem unable to focus on anything in-water aside their own, personal, diving needs and bragging rights on the boat – and are only able to physically see something if it is aquatic life greater than 3-4m in size that is physically pointed out to them with the accompaniment of a repeated ting-ting-ting sound – a bit like Pavlov’s dog. Astounding.”

Beautiful...they'll never see them.

Beautiful Bluefin Trevally…they’ll never see them.

We caught up with a diver just surfaced from a dive in the Indian Ocean. Boarding the boat from a stunning dive where Turtles, Peacock Mantis Shrimps, Trevally, Moray and a school of over 100 barracuda were present, Fabrice Crotch, 27, an enormous twat from Switzerland who works in accounting said “I’m an Advanced Open Water diver with 25 dives and I didn’t see a Whale Shark on that dive. In fact I didn’t see anything. Boring. I did manage to kick the other members of my dive group on the head several times and set off the ascent alarm on my computer though, so not all is lost.”

The crowned-prince of twats.

The crowned-prince of twats.

Asked by our research team if he had any other recollection of the dive he rolled his eyes threw his mask randomly on the floor in with someone else’s equipment to cause delays searching for it prior to the next dive, before picking up his iPhone and standing in the middle of the dive deck obstructing everyone else.

We next managed to catch up with Terry Balls, 42, a Carpet-fitter, UKIP voter and irritating arse from Barnsley, UK, at Scapa Flow, Europe’s premier wreck diving site. As he was lifted back onto the boat from a dive on the historic German Battlecruiser, SMS Dresden, we managed to grab Terry’s first words: “It was a bit cold… The instructor said something about a gun or anchor capstan or something, but I didn’t see it…pretty boring.”

"I can't see a Barracuda - how can you expect me to see a fan coral?? Don't worry a new one will grown in a few decades."

“I can’t see a Barracuda – how can you expect me to see a fan coral?? Don’t worry a new one will grow in a few decades.”

This phenomena is still being investigated by the world’s leading Ophthalmologists and Neurologists to decipher causality but there appears to be a strong link between being an inexperienced diver in combination with being an enormous idiot.

Instructor Carlotta Gonzales Fernandez from Tossa de Mar, 33, said, “…these new divers seem to have an uncanny ability to filter out anything smaller than a large eagle ray. I once took my group through a school of dozens of hunting trevally and afterwards they said the dive was boring and they’d seen nothing. Yes, they were idiots.”

Are you a recreational diver? Are you off on holiday soon? Doing some diving? Will you have a diving professional guiding you during the dives? Here’s a few really great ways to get on their nerves, make their life difficult and generally compromise the safety of yourself and the rest of the dive group courtesy of Scuba Monkey diving research labs.

Diving professionals are employed globally to lead dives and offer local diving safety advice and diving tips to certified scuba divers. Each diver paying for this service is, therefore, a qualified diver with an autonomous diver qualification seeking the underwater guidance and dive planning of a diving professional.

However, in this lesson (and it is a lesson) our team of recreational diving experts will show you how you, too, can liven up their dull lives and annoy your diving professional to the brink of a nervous breakdown.

So, sit back and learn some key techniques that will mark you out to experienced diving professionals as a enormous bell-end and someone they can’t wait to see the back of.

 

1. Equipment Savvy

Tom Perkins, 46, of Berkshire, an IT professional and Open Water qualified diver with 32 dives, said “I like to irritate my dive guides by having no clue about diving equipment set-up. I find the best way to get on my Divemaster or Instructor’s nerves is to either a) stare blankly at my scuba equipment for 20 minutes before each dive like a caveman who’s been thawed out of ice after 7000 years and has just seen scuba equipment for the first time – holding up the rest of the dive group – or, b) claim I know what I’m doing before connecting up the hoses incorrectly and leaving the tank band loose to ensure there’s an in-water incident. The key to this annoyance technique is to not be prepared for a diving trip and – certainly – not to take a diving refresher session before the holiday.  And, additionally, ensure you omit a buddy check before entering the water for maximum annoyance. Divemasters and Instructors like nothing better than securing a loose tank by man-handling the cylinder back into a BCD band at 18m in my experience. Livens up their day.”

Annoyance Score: 6

Wrong regulator in? Check. No computer? Check. No Clue? Check.

Wrong regulator in? Check. No computer? Check. No Clue? Check.

 

 

2.  Weight Clueless

Sarah Jones, 35, a HR manager from Bolton says “I trained with BSAC, so naturally my favourite trick on safari boats and day trips is to absolutely insist that I need about 6kg more on my weight belt than I actually need for the dive. It’s a great tactic. This means my buoyancy is completely screwed and I move around beneath the surface like a chimpanzee riding an invisible unicycle, guzzling my air at a rate of knots and compromising the length of the dive for everyone else. On a good day I can have my dive group back at the surface in 25 minutes and my dive guide still with 150bar in his or her tank. Brilliant. I might also ask the guide to carry spares in their BCD for me, like some sort of underwater ‘pack horse’. Then for an added annoyance I complain about the length of the dive as if it’s their fault. It’s great watching their blood boil. The key to this technique, like many you’ll hear, is to be absolutely unwavering in your belief that you know more about diving than someone who does more than 500 dives a year for a living and is trained in dive management.”

Annoyance Score: 5

No, I usually dive with 33kg. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

No, I usually dive with 33kg. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

 

 

3. Fashionably Late

Tammy Lawrence, 24, from Baltimore, USA, has this fantastic way to grate on your dive guide and group “I like to be late for each dive briefing despite knowing exactly when the next briefing will be and then, while everyone else is getting ready for the dive, f*ck around with my camera or decide that this moment – at the end of a 2 hour surface interval – is the ideal time to start a conversation with someone else in another group. If I do it right the captain and crew can be circling the boat around the dive site for a good 10-20 minutes burning fuel waiting for me – or, for bonus points, I can have the rest of my group standing waiting in full equipment and getting increasingly hot and tired with the weight on their backs. They love that! For a full score on this one make sure you’re late getting ready and, at the 11th hour when you’re nearly ready, find you’ve left your computer in a personal bag in the cabin meaning you have to de-kit and repeat the whole process. After all – the dive is all about me!”

Annoyance Score: 7

Similan-Islands-Liveaboard

Take your time…we’ll just stand here fully kitted and circle the island while you grease the o-ring for your camera.

 

 

4. Computer Crashing

Bill, 39, from Montreal, a car salesman and Advanced Open Water diver with nearly 46 dives says “I like to always arrive for a day’s diving with a brand new diving computer I’ve bought online that I’ve never read the instructions for – or even taken out of the box until the day – and then expect the guide to know each individual brand of dive computer’s functions intricately. For real impact and maximum irritation you’ll approach your dive guide 3 minutes before the dive with lots of questions about the computer and no sign of an instruction manual. Then, and you’ll like this, I like to ignore common sense and put the computer on my left wrist instead of the correct right wrist so that every time I wave my left arm around on ascents and descents making adjustments to my BCD or drysuit it starts beeping and giving me warnings. It’s particularly good doing that on ascents so I can’t read it with my left hand moving up and down in a venting position. It then begins beeping repeatedly – that way my dive guide thinks I’m having a rapid ascent or crashing straight through a safety stop – and has to keep spinning around to check. Which sometimes I also like to do to keep them on their toes!” said Bill grinning.

Annoyance Score: 3.5

We're jumping in 2 minutes. Can you just show me how to adjust for a different gas mix on this? and how to change the algorithm? Thanks.

We’re jumping in 2 minutes. Can you just show me how to adjust for a different gas mix on this? and how to change the algorithm? Thanks.


 

5. Mutiny Beneath The Waves

Frank Wilson, a 51 year old quantity surveyor, from NSW, Australia offered this top-tip. “I particularly like to ruin my dive guide’s day by completely ignoring that he/she is supposed to be leading the dive and lead the dive myself by swimming off like a torpedo, unannounced, in a random direction until I’m out of vision. Have I been to the dive site before? No. Do i know where I’m going? Not a f*cking clue. Am I keeping an eye on my depth, no-stop limits, my buddy, currents or air consumption? Don’t be bloody stupid! That just adds to the fun! The secret of making this look plausible – and that I’m not simply taking the p*ss – is to be holding a camera; that gives you licence to behave like a crazed triggerfish underwater. Or, another method is to swim directly in front of the dive leader, kicking them in the head, before flutter-kicking sand and silt in their face so they can’t see where I’m going. But that takes a little more expertise to pull off. The more variables and problems you can throw at the dive leader, the better.”

Annoyance Score: 8.5

bigstock-Dive-Master-1061892-300x225

See you later, I’m off! catch me if you can!

 

 

6. Gas Consumption Poker

Henry McTwatt from East Kilbride, a 33 year old bar manager and massive tit, said “My party piece for causing problems while away on diving trips is ignoring my gas consumption or, when I’m ‘in the mood’, to blatantly lie about it. Most diving instructors always ask me to let them know at 100-120 bar so they can safely bring us all shallower or to our ascent point. The sheer cheek of them! I like to ignore all that and make it a big guessing game. When I’m really on form I’ll manage to ignore requests to confirm how much air I have until I’m at 50bar at 28m. Just to see the whites of their eyes! Sometimes, for a laugh, I also like to lie about how much air I have left too . I’ll say I have 120bar when actually I only have 70bar a-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!”

Annoyance Score: 9.5

No regulator, no watch, no computer, no limits!

How much air do I have left? That’s a secret that I’ll tell you when I’m ready. It’ll be a nice surprise.

 

As you can see, there is a real art to this. The experts assembled above are masters of the craft.

To begin annoying your diving instructor, divemaster or guide, start slowly and build up to these bigger skills.

At first you may wish to leave a dangling/unattached hose or SPG that you can snag on a wreck or coral, lose a fin at depth and flap around like a chicken, take off your mask on the surface before you’re back on the boat to facilitate struggling to remove your fins and head-butting the ladder. Also, touching coral and wildlife when told specifically not to can get you up to 8 points depending on the gravity of the offence or, alternatively, even just be so incompetent at even getting ready for a dive that you need a team of people to dress you.

With time and effort you can be one of the greats like the experts assembled here.