Why I Came Back to Diving After Nearly 30 Years

Corfu, 1995

I first tried scuba diving in 1995.

I was in Corfu, doing Open Water and Advanced Open Water together on the same course. I cannot honestly remember the agency, so I am not going to guess, but I remember the experience clearly enough.

And it did not go well.

In fact, “did not go well” is doing quite a lot of heavy lifting there. Knowing what I know now, the course was badly run and badly designed. On day three, on what I think was only my fifth dive, I was taken to around 28 metres.

That is a lot, very early.

The Dive That Changed Everything

At 100 bar I told the instructor about my gas. We stayed at depth until I was down to around 50 bar. I got to the instructor’s octopus, switched to it, and signalled why. He then turned quickly and swam off, pulling the octopus out of my mouth.

I had to switch back to my own gas, which then ran out before I could reach him or make a safe ascent.

I got to the surface, swallowed water, passed out, and woke up on the boat being told off.

So yes, not exactly the charming “welcome to scuba diving” brochure moment.

The Divemaster, Ben, was kind to me afterwards. He was probably the only reason I tried a couple more dives on that trip. But the damage was done. For a year or two afterwards, even putting my head under water in the bath could trigger panic.

Scuba had gone from something exciting to something my body treated like a threat.

The Long Gap

For years, diving was not something I thought I would come back to.

I did eventually get back into snorkelling, especially in the Red Sea around 2013. That helped. I loved watching reefs and fish from the surface. There was still something about the underwater world that pulled me in.

But scuba? Proper scuba? Breathing underwater again?

That still sat in a different box in my head.

The “absolutely not, thank you very much” box.

Trying Again in 2024

In May 2024, as a family, we decided to try diving.

That first try dive was not perfect. As soon as I jumped in and tried to breathe underwater, some of the old memories came straight back. Not as a nice gentle memory either. More like my brain kicked the door open and shouted, “Remember Corfu?”

Gemma also started to panic.

That could easily have been the end of it.

But our instructor, Wessam Fayez, in Sharm, handled it brilliantly. He settled both of us, got us breathing, got us thinking, and helped all four of us have a great try dive on a local reef.

That changed everything.

Gemma, the Catalyst

Gemma was the catalyst.

After that try dive, she was in love with diving and wanted to do more. So Gemma, Matthew and I decided to do our Open Water together.

That mattered. It was not just me trying to prove something to myself. It became something we could share.

But I would be lying if I said the fear vanished.

It did not.

There are still moments, especially when my face first hits the water, where I get that 10 to 30 seconds of fear. That little mammalian alarm response. My brain briefly asks, “Are we sure about this, big lad?”

Most of the time now, the answer is yes.

But it is still there sometimes.

Rebuilding Trust

The hardest part of coming back was not just the water.

It was trust.

Trusting an instructor again after Corfu was hard. Trusting someone with me was one thing. Trusting someone with Gemma and Matthew was another level entirely.

That is where good instruction made the difference.

Wessam helped me get back in. Gemma helped pull me forward. The Rescue Diver course helped me calm down and think better. Reading around human factors helped me understand more about what goes wrong, why people make poor decisions, and how teams can manage risk better.

I like that side of diving.

I like the thinking.

I like the planning, the problem-solving, the “what if?” conversations, and the little details that make a dive safer and calmer. Diving scratches the same analytical part of my brain that likes systems, evidence, preparation and debriefing.

It is not just floating about looking at pretty fish.

Although, to be fair, floating about looking at pretty fish is also excellent.

The Moments That Keep Me Going

I am still not sure I have had one clean moment where I thought, “Yes, I can definitely do this now.”

It has been more gradual than that.

There are still times when I ask myself whether I can do it. But since doing Rescue Diver, that voice is quieter. I have more tools now. More understanding. More confidence that I can think through problems rather than just react to them.

And then there are the good moments.

Swimming with rays. Seeing sharks. Being on a reef and feeling that ridiculous sense of wonder. Watching marine life and then going home to my own reef tanks, where the same fascination continues in miniature.

That helps. The reef tanks are relaxing, but they also keep me connected to the underwater world between dives.

They are basically expensive, salty therapy boxes.

From Open Water to Master Scuba Diver

Master Scuba Diver was not originally some grand plan.

I probably would not have chased it quite the same way if PADI had not been offering it for free at the time. But the specialties I chose were not random badge collecting. They were linked to the kind of diving I am interested in: drysuit, nitrox, deep, night, equipment, wreck, overhead environments, and eventually technical-style progression.

For me, Master Scuba Diver feels less like an endpoint and more like a marker.

It is a signal to stop thinking only in terms of basic recreational diving and to start asking bigger questions.

Do I want to move towards Divemaster?

Do I want to explore sidemount properly?

Do I want to move into Tec?

What kind of diver do I actually want to become?

Why Divemaster Is on My Mind

I am looking at Divemaster, but not because I am desperate to teach.

I have taught before in other parts of my life. Teaching is not some shiny new fantasy for me. I am not currently looking to jump back into formal teaching or become an instructor.

But Wessam put the idea in my head back in May 2026. He thought it was something I might be ready for.

That stuck.

For me, Divemaster is interesting because it could make me a better buddy, a calmer team member, and someone more useful around other divers. I like the idea of developing the awareness, control and responsibility that comes with professional-level training, even if I never turn it into a job.

Why Tec and Sidemount Appeal

Technical diving interests me for three main reasons.

First, I want to see more.

Second, I want to be safer.

Third, I am analytical by nature, so the planning side appeals to me. Gas, redundancy, configuration, limits, procedures, decision-making — that all makes sense to my brain.

Sidemount also appeals for very practical reasons. I have dived with a side-slung pony and it felt good. Getting cylinders off my back could make some shore and coastal entries much nicer, especially in the UK where some of the walks from the car park to the entry point feel like a punishment invented by someone who hates knees.

Future me may still complain. But future me may complain with better cylinder logistics.

What I Learned

If there is one thing I want people to take from this, it is this:

A good instructor can be the difference between a nightmare and a lifelong hobby.

My first experience nearly ended diving for me before it had properly begun.

Coming back took time. It took family. It took the right instructor. It took trust. It took a willingness to feel uncomfortable and try anyway.

Now diving has become a major part of my life.

I am still learning. I still have fear sometimes. I still have moments where I question myself. But I also have dives, memories, skills and ambitions that I would never have had if I had let 1995 be the end of the story.