Unlike most of the Scuba + Outdoor articles there are no pretty pictures for this one, when you read the story below you will understand why. We all hear of divers getting into difficulty, some of us complete the PADI Rescue Diver Course, which undoubtedly equips us better to deal with emergency situations. But when all is said and done credit must go to the dive professionals who teach us these skills and without a moments thought put them into action, which on this occasion certainly saved a life....

The Scuba + Outdoor Pursuits Centre Training Team are among the (if not the actual) best in the world. Their skills and abilities are far beyond the level of most, and dedication un-faltering. This account of bravery and intuitive response, by Divemaster Glenn Williams, during a dive on one of this summers Red Sea Diving trips pretty much sums it all up:

It started fine on this summers Red Sea Diving trip, travelling over in the rib from MY Superior to the dive entry point off Little Brother, Heather, Joerg, John Grigg, John Trevena, Lesley and myself had entertained ourselves by singing silly songs. On the count of 3 we all rolled backwards into the water, 3 off the port side and 3 off the starboard side. Lesley, my dive buddy, signals OK and we descend, as usual I’m descending at a faster rate. At 5m I slow to check on Lesley, she’s not far behind, I look past her to the surface to see John Gregg and Heather holding onto John Trevena. Griggy has hold of Trevena’s tank and Heather’s got hold of Trevena’s arm. As quick as I can I’m at the surface to help. I dip my head below the water and signal to Lesley to stay where she is, it’s OK, she’s hovering with Joerg. Griggy secures Trevena’s tank strap and we continue I lead Lesley down to 40m.

You hang in the blue near to where the current divides itself to navigate around Little Brother and wait for the sharks to come. I can just make out the reef over my left shoulder everywhere else is just blue. You peer deep into the vastness of the blue hoping for a sighting. We had been tantalised with the possibility of White Tips, Hammerheads, Tigers and even Whale sharks, 5 or more minutes pass and nothing, I signal to Lesley and she agrees and we make for the reef. During our descent I had taken a bearing to the reef and throughout the dive I had kept glancing in that direction and kept the reef just in sight. As we head towards the reef 20m to our right is where Little Brother splits the current. At this point there is what looks like a low wall, it’s this wall that separates the current to round the island. I contemplate but resist the temptation to swim there to have a look. We would be swimming against the current so we turn to have the reef on our right arm. Later those who hung off the wall tell us of many shark sightings they made. It wasn’t to be for me, fate had something else in store.

We ascend up the reef wall to around 30m, we find a small table of coral and watch the Red Sea Clown Fish with its family of baby Red Sea Clown Fish each one a perfect miniature match of their parents. Accompanying the Red Sea Clown Fish is a family of 3 Spots, again each minor is a perfect match in miniature of the major. We head on passed a Black Coral Fan the size of a dinner plate growing at right angle to the reef. I stop briefly to admire its fine lace pattern. Lesley is now leading she leads up the reef wall and we settle at around 25m, I check my air, 120bar.

In front of us some 10m away and around 15m depth a cloud of bubbles catch my eye. It appears that someone is having a free-flow. I’m thinking to myself “someone’s going to have a headache tomorrow”, when out of the bubbles swims a black shape, it’s a diver. I watch as the diver fins vertically down before turning and heading straight towards me. I notice, I see all that’s happening, but my brain doesn’t register what’s going on, for example, the diver is small and is a she, and she’s not emitting any bubbles? Her left arm is outstretched? She’s still 5m away, I see her wide eyes and now I know, I point to my alternate air source and her eyes widen further, she nods her head. I unclip the yellow regulator and have it ready in my hand for her. She’s upon me, nearly knocking me backwards, grabbing at the mouthpiece, momentarily she checks it’s the right way up before greedily putting it in her mouth. She spits it out. Griggy is at my arm and together we force it back into her mouth. She’s gasping on the mouthpiece, her eyes staring, she’s in a panic, I try to engage with her but she’s ignoring my eyes. She spits the regulator out, once more I force it back while pressing the purge button. “See there’s plenty of air” I will to her, I hold the regulator in place with my right hand and grab her BCD in my left. I know that a desperately gasping diver can quickly suck the air out of a tank and me at 120bar! I don’t have an option. I swim to the surface holding on to her tightly bringing her up with me, my eyes not leaving her.

As we ascend I breath out, not the recommended AHHHHH! I’ve been trained more a SH######TE! Which I think is more apt. I’m aware of the increasing rapid ascent bleeping of my computer, it’s way too late now, I ignore my computer pleadings. No time for a 3minute safety stop, even if I’d thought of one and if I had I probably would not have stopped. I’ve just one thought, get her out. A couple of metres before breaking the surface she realises what’s going on and raises both her arms and bleeds air from her BCD. As I’m positively buoyant we break the surface like corks. As we settle back down I fully inflate my BCD and call for her to inflate hers, I call 3 times but she’s just flailing her arms and gasping for air, in between each gasp emits little moans of panic. I’m holding her high out of the water. One hand still holding I reach across and press the inflate button on her BCD. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you” I tell her. This does not placate her, she still struggles even though l remain lifting her clear of the water. I continue to lift her with one arm and give 3 loud blasts on my whistle to a nearby rib and it comes racing over. Looking around I can see another diver face down in the water, I assume, correctly, that it’s my little Russians dive buddy, the diver is motionless, I fear him to be dead. The adrenaline races through me, “SH#T! SH#T! SH#T! I cry out loud. Another rib is close by, I blast on my whistle once more and using my free hand I signal to direct him to attend the motionless diver. My rescue rib is now with us and together with the handler we get the stricken diver, in full kit, on board, he hoists while I push. Still in the water I turn around to see the second rib near the motionless diver and the rib handler staring blankly back at me.

I start to swim towards the motionless diver, as I go I blow my whistle, I splash my arm against the water and call, “diver, diver inflate your BCD”. “Pratt” I think to myself, “why am I swimming”, I turn to signal my rescue rib but before I can get the rib to tow me across to the motionless diver the diver raises his head, looks around and ignoring me heads to the other side of the rescue rib. “Nice”, I think to myself, “Well if that’s how’s it’s to be I’ll get myself safe” I remove my kit, first placing my weight pouches into the rib, then my BCD and with the help of the handler I clamber into the rib. The dive buddy is slightly smaller than me and early to mid thirties. As he settles himself on the rib wall he speaks to me, from the ascent I guess Russian. “Sorry mate I’ve know idea what you’re saying”, I reply, then ignoring him I turning my attention to my little Russian diver. The rib handler has stripped her of her dive equipment, she’s lying in the bottom of the rib still gulping air down in short hard bursts, her face the colour of parchment, she doesn’t look at all well. I hand her my regulator and indicate to her to breathe off it. It’s a 28% nitrox mix, I know it’s not O2 but it’s better than nothing. I just thought that breathing off the regulator might help her regain control of her breathing.  “Nitrox?” from behind me the Russian male asks, I nod my head, “nitrox” I reply. He speaks to my little Russian and she breaths of my regulator. “English?” he say’s, I nod, “Thank you” he says, “Where’s your boat?” I ask, he points over to the flotilla of dive boats.

I look at the rib handler then hold up the palm of my hand to signal him to wait as I’ve spotted Griggy’s yellow SMB. I know it’s his by how proud it reaches out of the water, reaches out you’d swear it floats above the water. Still signalling “wait” I focus on the SMB and wait for Griggy’s head to appear, first to show is Lesley, then Griggy, and then John. Griggy looks across to me I signal I’m OK and seeing that they are all alright I tell the rib handler “Yalla, yalla” and off we head towards the flotilla of dive boats. On the way and without prior warning black hooded heads of Russian divers pop out of the water, one, two, three, four of them. The rib handler slows to pick them up. With out stretched arm I signal the divers away from the rib and call to the handler “yalla, yalla”. More heads pop up, again I signal them away from the boat, each time I call out “yalla, yalla” and point to the flotilla. We race on.

“Which is your boat?” I ask, he searches for the words, “the blue one” the Russian replies. It had to be the blue one, this is the boat we had all earlier speculated on to the nationality of the flag with a blue cross on a white background that flew from the stern of the boat. The blue boat is moored one lane across and three boats down from our boat. I point directly to the blue boat and the rib handler heads straight for it, short cutting through a line of moored dive boats, we duck our heads to avoid the mooring lines laid out between the boats. As we approach the blue boat I stand in the bow of the rib and throw the line to the two Egyptians standing on the wet deck, they let it land at their feet. Not waiting to be tied up I grab the ladder and hoist myself on to the boat. I reach back and take hold of my little Russians hand, the two Egyptians now appear to have their brains in gear and help hold the rib steady. I call to one of them “oxygen, oxygen, O2 and where’s the Captain”. The Egyptian leads me and my little Russian towards the back of the wet deck. As we go I call “Captain, captain, on the wet deck, yalla, yalla”.

I’m handed a 7litre! O2 bottle, I beckon my little Russian to lie down and with the O2 turned on she puts the mask over her nose and mouth. More members of the crew appear on the wet deck to see what the disturbance is about, “Where’s the captain?” I ask and receive blank looks. I point to one of them “fetch the captain” he puts one foot on the ladder leading to the upper decks, but hesitates, I raise my voice “fetch the captain! Yalla, yalla”, the adrenaline is coursing through my blood, I can actual feel it, it removes any fear or polite concern I might have had and gives me untold strength. I try to calm myself.

My little Russian breathing O2 I go looking for her dive buddy, I find him sitting in the rib sorting out his camera. I take the camera from him and I hand it to an attending Egyptian. My kit has been unloaded and lies on the wet deck, I signal it back into the rib, I point to my dive boat and say to the rib handler “Superior, you take my kit over to the Superior”. I look across, the wet deck of the Superior is crowded with divers and crew looking over, I signal I’m OK and lead the Russian to the back of the wet deck and sit him down next to my little Russian. Still no sign of the captain on the wet deck. I visually check the two rescued divers over, my little Russian is getting some colour back and her dive buddy seems no worse for his adventure. I can see no obvious signs of decompression sickness. I do note that he’s showing no concern for his buddy who’s still lying flat on the wet deck. Not once does he look at her, he just passively sits there. Out of the corner of my eye I also note the captain is finally on the wet deck, he’s quietly talking to members of his crew. He looks over but stays in the background, for whatever reason he does not approach to find out why an irate Englishman is making so much noise on his boat.

Other returning divers are now on the wet deck and removing their kit, which they scatter about the wet deck, apart from one, no one is showing the slightest interest. The only one to show interest is leaning over my little Russian, she show’s him the dive timer strapped to her wrist her voice soft but agitated as she speaks to him. I’ve done all I can and make my way to the stern of the boat. I’m standing on the edge of the wet deck watching hooded Russian heads popping out of the water, again without warning and this time in the lane where the ribs race backwards and forwards to the dive boats. Not one SMB between them, only 7litres of O2, no surface cover, “Get me out of here” I tell myself. I leave them all to it and give the “teapot” signal towards the Superior, “teapots” are returned and within seconds a rib leaves and heads my way. I look at my dive computer still strapped to my wrist it flashes at me SOS! SOS! SOS!

SOS indeed !