Covediver's Underwater World

I could hardly wait to try out my new double-hose Mistral regulator. Scott, the owner of a local Anchorage dive store, rents the only 50-meter pool in the State for a couple of hours once a week for “Scuba Night.” While he uses this time for class instruction, he graciously opens the pool to folks who want to work on skills, try out new equipment, get reacquainted with old equipment and so on. He asks a modest contribution to help cover the cost of rental. In the last few years, pool operating hours have been cut back as operating expenses have increased. When I first arrived in Anchorage, the pool at Service High School had Scuba Night every Monday. The Municipality of Anchorage eliminated this time from all the pools’ operating hours as an economy moves but allows private parties to pay for the facility, at the price of about $100.00 per hour.

So with regulator in hand, I pulled my black 3-2 Tilos wetsuit out of the closet, threw my b.c., fins, and steel 72 in the SUV and headed to Bartlett pool. I arrived a few minutes early to set up my gear so I could hit the water as soon as possible to maximize my time. Scott’s class had already set up their gear. At first I thought it might be a tech diving class. Each diver’s set up consisting of an elegantly simple, if somewhat utilitarian, backmount b.c. with backplate was laid smartly along the edge of the pool. Scott’s assistant explained that the setup was the shop’s standard configuration for classes and that they did not use stabilizing jacket b.c.’s. I figured that the double-hose regulator I was attaching to the J-valve might be old school enough to divert attention from the fact that the rig was attached to a Sea Quest Black Dimond stab jacket b.c.

I recall hearing a charge that the Sea Quest Black Diamond was a b.c. for wannabe techies. Two of the four b.c.’s I have owned in 23 years have been the Black Diamond. I love the simplicity of the weight integration, the way it fits snuggly against my torso with little drag or inherent buoyancy, and the great way it disassembles for travel. It is not a b.c. for everyone, but it is the b.c. for me! That was not always the case.

Having dived with a Sea Quest backmount b.c. for many years because the stab jackets rode up on me, I merely nodded as one of the Scott’s divers extolled the virtues of that design. I did chuckle a little bit recalling the many times the owner of the Santa Barbara dive shop where I worked as a divemaster/AI complained about my unconventional set up consisting of a red Dacor aluminum 92 tank, brass Conshelf 14 regulator, and yellow backmount b.c. and the impression it made on the impressionable students who look to their leaders for examples of the “right” gear to use. I would remark, “Gee, you didn’t seem to mind when you sold me the stuff a few years ago.” To which he would reply, “most people don’t keep using gear as long as you do.” Offering to use whatever gear he would “comp” me usually ended any objection he had to my rig.

Waiting for clearance to get into the pool, I spoke with Eric, a teenaged diver who was soon to be the shop’s newest divemaster-in-training. We spoke about diving and gear while Scott looked over the Mistral. He asked if we could switch out rigs at some point during the night as he would like to try a double-hose regulator. I responded that swapping out the regulator would be fine as I had a single hose regulator that I needed to test dive. As we got ready to head into the water, I noticed Eric pull a pair of Scubapro Jet Fins out of his bag. I thought this was an odd choice of fins for a youngster, since the design of the fin has changed little in the nearly-half century it has been on the market and tends not to be the choice of fin among divers today. (I exclusively used Jet Fins for nearly 12 years, purchased right after U.S. Divers quit marketing the black graphite Compro fins I preferred. Now, I dive an Apollo Biofin when using a dry suit because the foot pocket on the Jet Fin will not accept my rock boot.) I remarked to Eric, that he was using a “classic fin.” He seemed confused as to whether or not that was merely an observation, complement, or subtle put down. Later one of the assistants would joke with me that “split fins were for sissies.” “No”, I corrected with a laugh betraying my own bias, “split fins are for people who don’t like to kick; Force Fins are for sissies.”

These events got me to thinking about the gear choices I had made during my diving career. I pretty much ascribe to the point of view that dive gear should only come in one color, basic black. I managed to survive the neon neoprene craze of the late 1980s when dive gear, taking it cue from ski-slope fashion, went from monochromatic to eye fatiguing bright hues nearly overnight. I used to disparage “neon divers” as those who would never be true practitioners. While I like to think that I have always selected my gear based on functionality first with style a secondary and distant consideration, the fact is that my first regulator was a Conshelf 14 because my instructor’s regulator was a Conshelf 14 and that was the brand carried by the shop where I traded. Imitation is the highest form of flattery and a great rule of thumb when you don’t know any better. So maybe the dive shop owner was justified in expressing his concern over my rig oh so many years ago.