A Ride on the PADI Wagon
December 5th, 2002
I began my scuba diving experience in Pattaya in the pristine lap of luxury, and ended it in a drunken blur of instructor induced snorkel-bonging. It all began with a sleep deprived check-in to the Hard Rock Resort, located just off the shoreline boulevard. I mistakenly thought I was to find a refuge from the nights of unspeakable mayhem and debauchery that comes with time well spent in BKK. For the record, let it be known that no student of scuba should be under the effects of alcohol or any other inebriating substance. Off the record, let me say that this weekend long experience was one surrounded by liquid induced fun, the ocean being only part of that concoction.
Upon arrival, I quickly opted for the top-notch services of Adventure Scuba Divers, based right there in the Hard Rock Resort. A PADI Open Water certification ended up setting me back approximately $250-$300USD in Pattaya, over the course of three days. All the necessary gear, transport and learning materials were provided. The next day I found myself lounging by the opulent Hard Rock poolside, with no shortage of distracting views. By this time I had my schnoz studiously buried in a PADI instruction manual, and leisurely read the necessary chapters by early afternoon. Next, my instructor Mike gave me a rundown on the workings of a scuba rig, and we soon dunked ourselves into the pool. My performance on the primary tasks set out by PADI for me to display were tempered by the distraction of scantily clad legs dangling about beneath the surface, an apt trial of trying to keep one’s mind on the subject at hand whilst being aware of the surrounding aquatic wildlife.
If a night out in Bangkok could make a grown man cry, then an similarly intentioned night out on the town in Pattaya most certainly required a few tissues as well. In BKK the debauchery was at least metered by the fact that there were also a good many people about doing innocent everyday activities. Whereas in Pattaya almost everyone is on vacation or aims to earn some Baht from those unsuspecting tourists. This leads to places like ‘Walking Street’, where I found quite the plethora of evils and temptations (whether divulgence was a piece of the pie is yet another story for Untamed Travel readers).
The second day began with an ungodly early awakening, then as I sauntered down the street to the dive shop, we were soon off on a boat and into the open water. The first thing I noticed about being oceanically submerged were the strange sounds. Speedboats produced a high-pitched zinging sound, and underwater organisms emitted strange crackling noises. The visibility was spectacular and the abundance of various kinds of corals and organisms were as mind boggling as they were awe-inspiring. Despite being a person who was never quite that fond of surface based oceanic sports, I found myself totally infatuated with both the placid solitude and multi-faceted challenges of scuba diving. We dove to a maximum depth of 17 metres during two separate dives on that sun soaked afternoon. Upon return to the shores of Pattaya, a torrent of exhaustion quickly set in. The effects of being under such greatly increased pressures underwater lent to my surprise at how worn out I felt after only two 50 minute dives.
Mike later only allowed me a brief siesta before he took me out on the town in what subsequently ended up in the history books as one of the dirtiest nights I didn’t remember in Thailand. Luckily the digital camera provided some historical subsidy to my lack of memory. Apparently in Pattaya, the diving instructors must adhere to strict doctrines of both scuba safety by day, and corruptive prowess by night. Mike spent so much time in the ocean that he was by all means a man-fish, and fish are ostensibly much more adept at drinking than us mere terrestrial mortals.
Diving day 3 lead to an excursion further out into the waters of the nearby isles, where stranger things lurked beneath the surface, and the remaining trials were to be performed. By then, I was controlling my buoyancy with exceptional aptitude, and my maneuverability underwater allowed me to explore complex terrain with the abandonment of a heroin addict in a poppy field. Between the two dives that day we anchored up on shore of the larger island for a splendid Thai lunch (included in the course fee), with enticing locally caught fare. More than once a diver comically remarked that he had seen a particular dish we were eating earlier that the day on a dive. The cervezas were promptly tapped en route back to shore as a foretaste to the Golden Snorkel.
For each recreation that produces a cult-like following, there is usually a corresponding set of long-established rituals. Scuba is no exception. It is customary in Pattaya to beer-bong via snorkel upon completion of your Open Water Certification, and ensuing acceptance into the worldwide community of scuba divers. Thus, you are in fact drinking with the Fishes.