Dahab Depth Demons

Triple Depth
Originally uploaded by Laura Storm.

Dahab, Egypt. Dusty coastal town where the Sinai meets the Red Sea. Unlike Sharm-El-Sheikh, a place that feels like it's part of Egypt, not Disney World. With a treasured resource that any freediver would dream of - over 90 metres of depth, bored into an enclosure within a coral reef. They call this 'The Blue Hole'

An Anglo-Australian consortium set out there the first week in December, on a mission. To set depth records.

Four freedivers, two safety scuba divers, and one surface co-ordinator. Ben Noble ( AUS), Anne-Marie Kitchen-Wheeler, Sam Kirby, Laura Storm, Matt Kitchen, Penny Noble ( AUS ) and myself. Our support base in Dahab was provided by none other than Lotta Ericson and Linda Paganelli of 'Freedive Dahab', with assistance from freedivers Sofus Kreutzmann & Katerina Smirnova.

Our team had 6 depth records to set, four of them using a sled. Ben was aiming for No-Limits, Variable Weight, and Free Immersion. Anne-Marie for Variable, and for myself Variable plus Free Immersion. I had pangs of guilt over the Free Immersion, as Marcus Greatwood had only just broken this a few weeks previous. The planning for this trip had by far preceeded that performance, and I couldn't drop 50% of my objectives. I'm just not that much of a gentleman.

The team had multiple roles - Laura and Matt doubled underwater safety with filming, Sam doubled freedive safety with scuba communication, and Penny doubled surface photography with counselling / mentoring. The schedule was tight - 4 days training, and 2 days record setting.

Even before we flew out of Gatwick, we knew there would be issues. Most of the group were experiencing cold viruses to some degree or other. Ben managed to ward his off with nasal rinses, I was lucky and didn't pick mine up until after the attempts, but Anne-Marie suffered the most. Despite valiant attempts to overcome the bug, and training at every opportunity, she knew on the last day of training that she wasn't going to make it. Having a feverous virus is no way to set records.

As we began our sled training, we soon discovered there was a lot more to it than just strapping-in and enjoying the ride. The first demon of sled disciplines has to be nitrogen narcosis. It robs you of all sensibility, logical thought, and even an awareness that you have succumbed to it. One of our tasks with Variable Weight, once we had disembarked from the sled, was to return it to the surface for the next person to use. A simple case of apply the brake, fill the lift bag, turn off the valve and release the brake. A five year-old could do it, surely? On a shallower dive I had no problem, but past 50 metres, it was a different story. Did all the steps and the sled didn't go up. So I then spent half a minute applying and releasing the brake. A bit like turning a light switch on and off when the bulb has blown. Eventually, the proverbial bulb did light up, and I put more air in the bag. Then forgot to turn off the valve, so the sled arrived at the surface with an empty cylinder - useless for the next person. A lesson for the future - when you can't think properly then resort to survival instincts - leave the sled down there and head for the surface! I could easily have stayed down for longer, and paid a price worth more than a surfaced sled.

Continuing with the incompetence theme, the next day I plummeted down to 80 metres and managed to take my hand off the brake. Then, umm, couldn't find it again until the sled whacked into the plate. No problems with equalisation there, then. Anyway, I wasn't the only narcotic in the group - at least one other person managed to drain another cylinder by forgetting to turn off the valve. Interestingly, I was always under the misapprehension that nitrogen narcosis disappeared at the surface. On one dive, I was in the land of the fairies for a good minute after I had surfaced. Everything was hilarious, and everyone was my best friend.

We had no rest day built-in. For me, this was a mistake. As well as the constant racking up ( or down ) of depths each day, my body was slowly dehydrating. I realised this an hour or two before my first record attempt, and by then it was too late. The initial attempt was Free Immersion to 71 metres. Just one metre below the depth set the day before. The whole dive was a disaster from the outset. As I made the first pull, I felt pressure release from my lungs as valuable air forced its way into my stomach. Seconds later, I could feel even more air fizz through my noseclips. I started tensing up as I started gliding and slipped sideways, and at the same time, managed to lose half a mouthfull of air. Somewhere below 60 metres, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to calculate that 1 x full lungs, minus the air I lost at each various stage, equals zero. I could no longer equalise. I used my mouth to attempt to pump out a few cubic centimetres but this just made things worse, as I then ruptured blood vessels in my trachea. The bottom plate was tantalizingly close, and I could feel pain in my eardrums, as my fuzzy head tried to decide whether to continue or stop. That decision was taken out of my hands as I reached the plate, took the tag and turned. But as I pulled myself up, I could feel blood working its way down into my lungs, so I knew there would be problems at the surface.

I didn't blackout until just after attempting to take off my goggles after surfacing, and it was only for a few seconds. But a blackout is a blackout, and means no record. Combined with the rupture, it also meant that diving again that day was simply not possible, so it was all down to my contingency day now.

Things now weren't easy for Ben Noble, as he had 2 records to attempt, just after witnessing my blackout. It's not an encouraging sight. His target was a rope pulldown using arms only, to 50 metres. He made none of the mistakes I had, and came up as fresh as a daisy. About an hour later, he had his Variable Weight attempt at 72 metres, and surfaced equally jubilant. Ben is very measured in his approach, and quite meticulous with preparation. This day was no exception, and he reaped the rewards. His outstanding attempt with no-limits had to wait another 24 hours. Even freedivers need to decompress sometimes.

Last day / last chance at the Blue Hole, and the wind had picked up, so there was surface chop to worry about as well. Talking of chops, my depths were now much more conservative - 7 metres hacked off the 71 I had originally attempted, and my Variable Weight reduced to 80 metres. Better safe than sorry. First off the blocks though, Ben had his No-Limits to nail. At 80 metres, this would make him Australia's deepest freediver. In true Ben-style, it was executed flawlessly. He almost looked disappointed that it had been so easy. Without doubt, from where I was sitting, he could have gone much deeper.

My turn on the sled, and it was a case of same depth, same story. Even to the extent of becoming my nation's deepest male freediver. Another lapse of judgement though with my strategy. As in training, I had chosen to pull myself up the line rather than fin. Of course, I had overlooked that in 20 minutes time, I had a 64 metre Free Immersion to complete....using my arms. Would they hold out? My surface interval disappeared like blue lightning, but then 2 or 3 armstrokes into the descent, so did my noseclips. I had knocked them off. With my left hand I grabbed onto my nose so that I could continue equalising. With my right arm only, I pulled, so that I could continue descending. This was equally as catastrophic as the day before, and I was sure that if I continued, I would be heading for another blackout. Something in my head told me there was no going back, no giving up, so I carried on. There seemed to be enough strength in my arms, and as I headed toward the surface, a stubborn confidence crept in. At the top, I was clean. I should have been relieved, put it felt more like pure defiance. I just couldn't let the depth demons beat me.

Safe freediving means never doing it alone. Ultimate freediving means doing it within a team, and I felt extremely proud at what our team had achieved. It's not just about reaching the bottom plate, it's all the other things - rigging, de-rigging, mutual support....not to mention the superb photos and videos. Clips can be seen here of Ben's FI/VW and here of my 2 records.

With our exercise nearly complete, all that remained was to head into the desert, and celebrate with AIDA sparkling wine and camel koftas, and sing national anthems. It's what we do.