The year was 1957. I was 10 years old and had seen a few pictures of, and had read a few stories about, scuba diving.. or as it was known back then, deep sea diving. I was so interested that I asked my parents if they would buy me the equipment to let me dive. The answer, not unexpectedly, was a resounding no! I then decided in was time for the bargaining ploy. If you get me the gear, I will never ask for anything again, etc, etc All to no avail, I might add.
Then it was time to ask, If I earn the money myself, can I get the gear? That was okay with them. As a side note, I realize now that there was not a lot of money in the household in those days so rather than being the ogres I believed at the time, my folks were just being cautious. I guess that they figured that I would soon lose interest and, as was normal, find another hobby that would consume me. : Alas for them, this was to be the one. :
I started picking blackberries [not the big ones, mind. But the little ones. And for those I got 35 cents a pint. It took a lot of picking to get a pint] I also did the neighbours lawns, looked under porches for dropped coins [there was a lot back then, and all silver
: ], picked up pop bottles, did odd jobs such as a 10 year old could do, and squirreled away my allowance] Once a week I would go to the bank where my mother worked and put the money in.
Later in the year, I went to Happys sporting goods store and saw a small tank and regulator for the grand price of $11.00. Nothing would do, but for me to buy it. I could not believe my eyes that a set up would be that [comparatively] inexpensive. I had been expecting to pay in the hundreds of dollars. I got the money and went over and purchased that unit straight away. The box was awfully light but I figured that because it was a junior model, it would be light.
I got my tank set up home and could hardly wait to try it out. The fact that it was May, and the rivers were pretty cold, would not deter me. [yes, I learned to dive in a river]. I was so pleased and proud that I had managed to purchase this myself and still have money left over. I was only when I show it to my father that I got a true lesson in marketing. My tank/regulator set up was nothing more than a plastic look alike copy of a real unit. It was, for all intents and purposes, nothing more than a fancy snorkel.
:. When my father pointed this out to me, I insisted that it was real. The upshot of this was that we returned the unit to Happys, got the money back and my father figured out that this obsession was not going away.
He finally agreed to underwrite PART of the cost of a tank and regulator for me. We withdrew some of my savings and we went shopping. Unfortunately, the cost was prohibitive for us back then so we made a compromise. A full sized tank was a pretty hefty unit for an eleven year old so he made an arrangement to get a carbon dioxide fire extinguisher, somehow he found a diving tank valve and he put them together and viola, we had a tank. Kid sized. : He made a pack out of some metal and straps and fitted it to me. It may have been uncomfortable, or not. All I knew was that I was as pleased as punch to have a tank.
Next came the regulator. This was not going to be and easy find. Diving was still a comparatively next sport, and any used equipment was not even heard of. Somehow, that seemingly insurmountable obstacle would have to be overcome. This actually took a pretty long time but in due course, either my father or I found a regulator. I cannot remember the price but I do remember the name. It was a Mistral and to those who do not know, it was probably one of the worst regulators ever made.:It was the old two hose style, and whenever you rolled over on your back, it would free flow. Every single inhalation was an effort. But in my youthful enthusiasm, it was the best in the world.
Somewhere, I found a mask that would fit me and a set of duck fins and I was now ready to go. I had not read any books on how to dive.. indeed, I am not even certain that there were any formal instruction books back then/ We had arranged to have the take filled at the fire hall, and in July of 1958, I took my first dive with my father watching from above. We went to the Puntledge River and found a fairly calm pool; and I descended to the miraculous depth of 10 feet or so. It was not exciting, at least no exciting in a visual sense, but I had stayed underwater for 10-15 minutes without surfacing and I was in hog heaven.
In time, Things would change and I would learn a little more about diving. I would experience the sensation of freezing my kiester off when I first hit the salt water [no suit for me the first few times
: ], the joys of a new , easily breathing regulator, and more adventures to come. But that was the first time for me and it was every thing that I had wished for. That awe has stayed with me to this day. But it all started with a young boys desire to become as one with water and explore that realm.
Calm seas
Mikie
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/12/2009 01:13PM by Wayne in BC.
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My first time..
, i too was smitten but never got near the SCUBA gear like you did until the mid 60's when i dated a girl who had a Dad that was a diver and so was she. My lessons came soon after but although i wanted to do much more, life got in the way and i only managed a few shallow lake dives for the next several years.
