A story of scuba diving, mental strength & future careers.

The stories we hold in our mind form the building blocks of our personality. Our experiences make us who we are, and we connect with people through the stories we tell.

I’m going to share a story that I wrote recently about an amazing experience I had many years ago. I rarely revisit this experience, but it lives quietly in my subconscious mind, subtly affecting the daily choices I make.

The photo above was taken ten years ago, on the same trip. Let me know what you think of the story and share any similar experiences you've had in the comments.

The Dive

I could see that the current was strong by how choppy the water was. It was an overcast day, and the sea looked surprisingly dark with white crests of foam breaking across the surface.

As I jumped off the back of the moving boat, straight into the deep ocean, my mind was focused on one thing only. To maintain clear sight of the diver in front of me, but under these conditions, that was going to be difficult.

In October 2008 I bought scuba diving lessons for my husband's birthday. At that time, I was in the depths of writing my PhD thesis, so the lessons came as a welcome break for both of us.

During our first pool lesson in the UK, I struggled to simply clear my mask (the essential skill of removing water from your mask carried out underwater), but I was committed to learning and persevered.

By November we had completed the final part of our PADI open water diving course in a very cold quarry in Lancaster. The quarry was full of big hungry trout that swarmed around us, nibbling our fingers as they tucked into the bags of fresh sweet corn we had brought underwater with us. Although extremely cold, we had a fantastic day.

It was now December of the same year, but the sun shone fiercely hot through the clouded sky. We were sailing around some tiny islands in the Anderman sea off the west coast of Thailand. I had submitted my PhD thesis, handed our house keys back to the landlord, packed up and embarked on a new adventure.

Our boat, the M/V Anderman had sleeping space for twenty guests, five instructors and six crew. With three decks; the lower for sleeping and equipment, a shaded middle for resting, eating and socialising, and an upper sun deck, complete with diving board precariously hanging over the sea below.

The 5-night liveaboard boat proved to be a remarkable mix of serene beauty and terrifying exhilaration. During one dive I had a panic attack on the bottom of the sea bed, 25 metres down, while the rest of my group was enjoying circling a docile leopard shark.

I knew that the severe sharp pain in my ears was due to a problem equalising under the increasing pressure; thankfully our instructor quickly came to my rescue and resolved the issue. I recovered, and luckily still had time to enjoy hovering above the beautiful sleeping shark.

During the five day trip, we made three or four dives per day, each dive being utterly different from the last. I can't remember the details of each exactly now, but some events remain crystal clear in my mind.

The day I jumped off the back of our (fast) moving boat into zero visibility water is one of those events. I spent the first part of the dive frantically trying to keep up with my buddy ahead, terrified I would be left alone in the vast dark ocean.

Once we got past the current and the cloudy seawater settled, the beauty of the coral reef was staggering. I vividly remember the bustling groups of different fish going about their daily routine: the occasional meandering sea turtle and spectacular shoals of giant predatory trevally.

I have many more stories from that trip, some very scary, some awe-inspiringly beautiful. One thing I know for sure, when I returned home to the UK, I brought with me an extra dose of mental strength and determination.

Two qualities I’m sure you’ll agree, set me up nicely for a future career self-employed.