Scuba diving is possible in many places around the world. Every location is unique, which is one of the key attractions of diving; coastlines differ, water conditions vary, the fishes are different, some places have corals some don’t, the underwater vegetation changes from place to place, and the landscapes beneath the surface can literally be poles apart from one spot to the next.
Yet, one thing remains remarkable similar no matter where you go diving, namely the scuba diving culture. Scuba divers, no matter where they are, seem to be cut from the same cloth. At first, this uniformity is comforting. After all, the moment you set foot in a dive shop you feel you know the people, even if you’ve never met them before. Divers are nearly always in good spirits, unnaturally so one might say. They make you feel welcome, are open and immediate, and extremely enthusiastic. And, perhaps, you also get the feeling that you have to act in the same way.
And therein lies the issue.
You see, there is something very off-putting about the diving culture. For one, divers tend to be extremely materialistic. Having the right gear is extremely important to them. Whenever you enter a dive shop, especially after a period of not diving, you are struck by the fact that everyone is suddenly using some new piece of kit that you have not seen before, and, without which, it is now deemed impossible to dive properly. Yet, generations past have dived successfully without this gear and undoubtedly future generations will too. In other words, divers are complete gear addicts.
Divers also go out of their way to signal to outsiders their membership of the diving community as if being part of this community somehow makes them special and cool. This is why scuba divers usually wear clothes that very overtly identify them as divers, such as T-shirts that say things like, “I dive, therefore I am”, or “Divers do it deeper”. Many even have diving logos as their avatars on Facebook and other social media. They put diving sticker everywhere.
But why should diving be cooler than any other hobby? And why be concerned about ‘cool’ anyway? Is this hobby about the diving or is it about the diver? The collective missionary zeal and quasi-evangelical virtue-signalling that permeates the diving culture is extremely annoying.
Divers also love to perform rituals, almost like acts of worship. Like rituals in other walks of life, the rituals of divers are designed to create a sense of exclusivity that sets them apart from others, thereby acting like barriers against non-believers.
One of the most important rituals is to fill out log books. Many divers do this with almost religious fervour. Check it out next time you go diving! Watch how they line up to get the dive master’s signature and stamp in their log books after each dive!
What is wrong with filling out log books, you may ask? Nothing! Except the obsession with logbooks in diving does not square very well with the fact that log books serve no real purpose. All this effort! For what?
The truth is that divers are practically never required to produce their log books when they want to hire gear or book a dive. In my more than 70 dives, I have never – not a single time – been asked to produce my log book in order to hire gear or go diving with a professional dive outfit. The only thing you have to do is prove your level of certification (and this is not even rigorously enforced) and to inform the dive master of your number of dives, but you are never asked to prove this.
Sure, some divers use their log books as diaries, perhaps in the expectation that they will want to read them in their old age so as to re-live the adventures of their youth. In all likelihood, very few divers will use their log books that way, however, because people develop other interests as they age.
One of the most annoying and meaningless aspects of the log book ritual is that divers love to fill their log books with all kinds of useless data, such as the depth and duration of each dive, tank pressure before and after each dive, water temperature, and visibility. Yet, let us face it, unless a diver plans to do rigorous statistical analysis of their data – say, to monitor how your efficiency of breathing under water changes over time – there is little point in collecting it. And in all likelihood, only a minute number of divers actually do any such statistical analysis. In other words, data collection is an exercise in futility.
The cultish features of the diving culture become especially glaring when viewed alongside the culture of land-based safari enthusiasts, you know, the kind who drive around in 4WDs on the savannah looking for lions and birds and stuff.
Granted, some safari-goers fall into the trap of buying complete khaki safari outfits, when they go on safari for the very first time. They are always a good laugh! You can spot them a mile away when they step out of Toyota safari minibuses in full camouflage gear and wide-brimmed hats! Yes, they look like total morons, but remember they are complete newbies and don’t know any better!
Unlike divers, however, you very rarely see experienced land-based safari lovers wearing safari gear either during or after safaris. In fact, they usually do not give a toss about what they wear in the bush. And it is guaranteed that none of them maintain detailed log books with data, such as air temperature, visibility, wind direction and speed, etc.
The point is this: there is something uniquely annoying about divers you simply do not encounter among land safari people. So why are divers that way?
The answer probably lies in commerce. Many divers are young and impressionable. They are searching for an identity, something that advances them beyond their childhoods and sets them apart from their peers. Diving fits the bill. Meanwhile, diving businesses are more than happy to exploit this fact; businesses long ago learned that selling diving is not just about taking some kids underwater for an hour; it is about selling them a completely new life style.
The scuba divers who fall for this nonsense are therefore not part of some special global club of extra-enlightened individuals, but rather naive or insecure people, who are systematically being taken to the cleaners by clever business people, whose main objectives are to sell as much gear as possible, stimulate the rituals of log books as far as they possible can, and get their young clients to fork out as much money as possible on post-diving merchandise.
Fortunately, there is no compulsion to join the twisted culture surrounding diving to enjoy the underwater world. Diving, like going on safari on land, is all about the flora and fauna and the seascapes. As long as you are safe, it does not really matter what gear you use. It is certainly completely irrelevant what you wear when you are out of the water.
The only genuinely unique thing about diving is that you can ‘fly’! During diving you are buoyancy neutral, which means that you can literally sit in the middle of the water column as the force of gravity is cancelled out by the air in your buoyancy control device. This particular aspect of diving is very difficult to replicate on land; the closest you ever get to it is probably when you hover in a hot air balloon over the plains of Serengeti National Park. This, too, is of course great, but hot air ballooning will never get you as close to your environment as when you 'fly' underwater.
The video below is a collection of clips from various diving trips undertaken from Yacht Twende in the French Caribbean during the first half of 2022.
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