Personal Narrative Essay: Diving Sheet

We loaded up the trunk of the 450 SL Mercedes. To my surprise, it was large enough to hold all our diving gear, and the three of us were more than comfortable in the champagne convertible. I certainly was. Mark, my older brother, was in the front seat, even so, the better view of Giselle was all mine and Goddamn if she did not look good driving. We were having an adventure that day that only Southern California could offer. Fantasies came to life for us on a fairly consistent basis. Backstage passes to rock concerts - everyone had a dad who was someone, or, at least, knew somebody that knew someone. We’d go to extravagant parties usually ending up in the pool of the Bel Air hotel, not that the parties we attended didn’t have pools, they did

She looked over to the car where Rudy and Mark were suiting up. Now, putting on your tank/BCD jacket is the easiest thing anyone will ever do in diving. You strap the BCD jacket on to the tank; then you slip it on as you would any jacket in your closet. A bit heavier sure, but easy enough. Mark thought the above method, one that no one does, would make him look cool, swinging the tank overhead and placing his arms through the jacket. Only what happened was the armhole somehow got twisted and stuck cutting off the circulation in his arms. Giselle could see them both squinting, mouthing a few words to each other, then making several repeated attempts to untangle the convoluted mess all while Rudy held the tank as steadily as he could trying to prevent it from crushing Mark 's head. The scene looked like an I

Mark is too cowardly to go, and Giselle will not go with Rudy. She plans out another dive and has only 25 minutes she should be in the water.

Giselle told herself she could handle this - whatever it was. Diving was the best training for life in that no matter what emergency, what turn of events began to play themselves out, the rules were the same. You stay calm; you can deal with it. Systematically work the problem her training told her, leave all emotions out.

Giselle is by herself in the depths looking for the gear, she finally spots it, and it is at the canyon, trying to stay calm - she makes her way to the canyon where the hose is holding the gear that is dangling over the cliff. She struggles to get the gear untangled from the kelp being right up at the 'top ' edge of the canyon. The canyon is a profound and dark abyss. Giselle has a very instinctive and creepy feeling of some evil, and there is a weird change in temperature over and over. She struggles with the waves and vertigo from the cliff. Due to the weight of the equipment and the surface getting rougher, she decides