I spent my first 11 years in South Florida being a water baby. I don’t remember learning how to swim because my parents had me in lessons at 6 months. That’s life for a lot of people in Florida. When you can’t walk two blocks without hitting a pool or body of water, you learn to swim early.
I was in the pool as often as I could be, swimming down under the surface and holding my breath. During snorkeling trips, I was that kid fidgeting with the snorkel vest, pouting about wearing something so ridiculous because it was just going to slow me down if I wanted to follow a fish or touch the sand. I was completely enamored of mermaids, and doing the dolphin kick into the blue was my happy place. It still is.
In 2009, I became a certified scuba diver and visited underwater wonderlands in Myrtle Beach, the Florida Keys, the Riviera Maya, Catalina Island and Bermuda. However, I continued to tests my limits as an amateur freediver.
The difference? There is no self-contained underwater breathing apparatus in freediving. You get one breath every time you dive. No tank, no buoyancy control vest. You're less encumbered. You're more free.
I was dreaming of taking the class for years. I couldn't wait to improve what I had been doing all my life. I finally took the plunge and signed up with my local dive shop, Chesapeake Bay Diving Center. I needed to be a certified freediver.
Freediving requires you to quiet your mind, relax your body, and control your breathing and heart rate. That's a lot when you're so excited you could squeal. My instructors helped me improve my static breath-hold (no movement, no wasting energy) from 1 minute 30 seconds to 3 minutes. They coached me though the breathe up and the breath-hold, helping me to focus on nothing but the oxygen in my body.
On the fourth and last day of class, we arrived at Lake Phoenix, an underwater park for divers, snorkelers and swimmers alike. Its maximum depth is about 65 feet, and the highlight of our day would be trying to touch the small sunken plane at 50 feet.
After spending all morning on rescue skills and diving to 30 feet, I was tired. I was nervous about trying 50 feet. It sounded so far, and the water down there was icy cold. We were using a weighted line with markers that indicated depth. We would try 50 feet there first. As I ducked under the surface, I could feel my heart rate was fast. Not ideal. My body would be consuming oxygen faster than I wanted it to.
I made it to the 50 foot mark and saw a scuba diver's fins kick past me. I felt a twinge in my lungs. My instructor was there and had seen me hit the mark, so I immediately started for the surface.
I made it. At the surface, my dive buddy coached me through recovery breathing. The oxygen I needed was returning. I was happy. I had done it once, and I could do it again. I was going for the plane. The water was murky with silt and algae, and our target could not be seen from the surface. I started my breathe up as I waited my turn to dive. In for two seconds, out for 10 seconds. As I started down the line, I was determined. The white plane came into view and became clearer.
In seconds, I was touching the nose of the plane and sweeping my fingers up the algae covered windshield. Now on top of the plane, I looked toward the surface and gave my instructor's GoPro the 'OK' sign. Swimming back to the surface, I felt accomplished. I did it!
I am a certified freediver now! It's one of the best things I've ever done. I would highly recommend it. Especially if you're a water baby like me. It's a great adventure. Not you're style? Find something that interests you, do your research, and get into it. You never know what you can do!