Utila – Week 5, Day 5: Weight Belt Wreckage
UTILA
Week 5
Day 5: Weight Belt Wreckage
December 15, 2022
Aaaah! this would be the day for me – I could just feel it. It’d be my second time lionfish hunting – though I kept my expectations low since, last time, we’d barely seen any (good for the environment, bad for me), and I didn’t even get to shoot. After practicing with the Hawaiian sling back at Sandy Caye, I figured my only real problem now would be getting the shot.
I’d be diving with Catherine, Andreas, Clive, and Ahinoam. It’d be the four of us, with Catherine shooting first as a demo, and Andreas and Clive going next since they were clients. That meant we needed to spot at least four lionfish for me to get a shot – and even then, it’d be me versus Ahinoam. A battle I lost the second we played rock, paper, scissors. Make that five lionfish.
Headshot Glory
First up was Little Bight – a dive site known for its high number of lionfish. I’d be swimming third deepest, since I had a dive computer and my air consumption had improved a ton.
The first ten minutes were lionfish-free, just like last time. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the tiniest lionfish ever. I banged on my tank and waited for the others to join me. After last time, I wasn’t even excited about it. Once everyone saw it, Catherine handed me the Zookeeper and took the shot, nailing the little bastard with a single headshot.
A few minutes later, I heard another bang – this time from Catherine’s side. It was a huge one – and it’d be Andreas’s turn to kill the bugger. He carefully lined up his shot… and hit the coral instead. The fish bolted. Then practically the same thing happened with Clive’s target. And again with Ahinoam’s. By then, we were almost in deco and our air was getting low. I wasn’t even disappointed – I’d expected this.
Until I heard Catherine furiously banging her tank. I swam over as fast as possible – and there they were: three lionfish, just chilling in a crevice. Finally, I was up. But I didn’t let it get to my head. Like I had practiced in Sandy Caye, I took my time, dropped to their level, found neutral buoyancy (my trim was much better now), loaded the sling and – without any hesitation – shot the beast right in its head. A one-hit KO. I stayed calm, controlled the moment, and didn’t rush it. Catherine’s eyes were lit up with pride.
Then Andreas and Clive went again. This time, they nailed it. In a matter of minutes, we had four fish in the Zookeeper. By the end, Ahinoam and Andreas added two more. Six fish – one dive. Captain Hoover was disappointed – apparently on his best dives they’d fill an entire ice bucket. But for me? It was a win. A total success. I finally got my shot. And we still had another dive to go!
Weight Belt Wipeout
This time, we headed to Black Coral Wall – a site I knew well. I was on fire, adrenaline coursing through me. The second we were underwater again, it was game on.
Each time we saw a lionfish, we’d take turns: Clive, then Ahinoam, then me, then Andreas, and back around. Catherine would step in when someone missed (not me, hehe), and later let me shoot again when others failed. I felt so proud – finally, I was good at something diving-related. And I could tell Catherine was proud too. I was her little prodigé!
Until the very end. Caught up in the hunting hype, I didn’t realize I’d been low on air for a while. I told Catherine at 500 psi. By the time we were ready for our three-minute safety stop, I had only 200 psi left. Normally, that would be fine. But somehow, I started ascending uncontrollably. I dumped all the air I could from my BCD, using the LPI and all the dump valves. Still, I kept floating up. I tried to kick down, thinking maybe I was just too positively buoyant from the near-empty tank. But something felt off.
I wasn’t panicking, but I was helplessly confused. I kept trying to stay down, burning what little air I had left. Catherine had to step in and give me her alternate reg. Then she pointed down at something. “Why the hell is she pointing down? Is there a lionfish? Does she want me to go get it? Is she crazy?!” I thought, while kicking downward and holding her arm. It was absolute mayhem for three full minutes. I had no idea what was happening – and worse, I felt terrible for dragging Catherine into my mess. The second our safety stop was over and I could finally ascend, I felt nothing but relief.
Back at the surface, after catching my breath, I asked what the hell had just happened. “You dropped your friggin’ weight belt,” Catherine said – calmly and sweetly. That’s what she was pointing to! Wait – what? My friggin weight belt. I had absolutely no idea as to how it could’ve possibly fallen. I I don’t remember unclasping one of my releases so I don’t think that was the case either. The only thing I could think of was the new weight distribution I was using. Perhaps having the weights on the front of the belt made it easier for the buckle to open. To this day, I have no idea how it happened, and neither does she.
On the boat, I could hardly pull myself together. I’d just pulled off two epic dives, taken clean shots, and finally felt confident. But now, all I could feel was shame. I’d pictured stepping back on the boat like a hero – half the haul in the Zookeeper mine, every hit a kill shot. Instead, I was the guy who lost his belt and ran out of air. Of course, Catherine – being the gem she is – was nothing but supportive. She reminded me that mistakes happen, and it’s all part of the learning process. Next time, I’d know to check for my weight belt if anything felt off. I’d never make that mistake ever again!
So yeah – now I know what to do if I ever run out of air and lose my weight belt at the same time. Silver lining? The dive site we drifted to from Black Coral Wall didn’t have a name. Now, it’s (un)officially dubbed “The Weight Belt.”
Catharsis, Ceviche & Coral
As if the morning’s adventures weren’t enough, I had to go back out on the afternoon boat. Worse still, I’d be leading the next dive. Sure, the odds of running out of air and losing my weight belt again were astronomically low – but not zero.
Thankfully, we were headed to The Labyrinth, a site I knew well. We’d swim through some tunnels and continue along the coral wall. The dive went off without a hitch. I didn’t get lost, and, most importantly, I kept my air and my belt – small wins, but I’ll take them. The fun dive afterward was incredibly therapeutic. For once, all I was meant to do was to enjoy the dive. No skills, no hunting, no wrecks, no nothing. Just pure, unadulterated fun.
Then, back at Underwater Vision, Amelia and I had our coral restoration course to look forward to. We’d be going through a presentation that evening and do the actual thing the following day. Truth be told, it isn’t just coral that this session restored. With Catherine and Rachel explaining all the virtues of coral and how we, as divers, can help propagate the dying species and save the sick ones, we were so inspired that by the end, I was almost left in tears and had almost forgotten the epic failure of that day.
Of course, the news had already made the rounds, but, owing mostly to Catherine’s sweet words, I quickly joined in the fun too.
Stay wild,
Marius
Post-Scriptum
Looking back on this day, it was still a hell of a great one. On the grand scheme of things I caught six lionfish (the ceviche had everyone drooling), led a successful dive, and learned more about coral than I ever thought I would.