(I've posted below an essay AdventureBoy wrote about getting his scuba certification. Ask me later why I think he's proof God exists...)

A Scuba Adventure

Not many people have experienced the almost magical sensation of floating through an indigo sea and watching the fantastic creatures dwelling within it. My father and I are one of the few fortunate to be able to do so, to be licensed scuba divers. The first true SCUBA (Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus) was invented by legendary French oceanographer Jacques Cousteau in 1943. It was smaller, more efficient, and more easy to use than many of its predecessors, and thus revolutionized the world of underwater exploration. Prior to the SCUBA, or Aqualung, divers had had to wear bulky suits with helmets and be fed air from a hose. The Aqualung severed that connection, allowing caves and other difficult places to be explored. The sea had always been a place of mystery to me, but I never thought that a few forays into island shallows would change my perspective of that blue realm forever.One day last summer, I was in a deep and peaceful sleep when I suddenly felt myself being gently shaken. I opened my eyes and saw my dad leaning over me. For the most part, the room in which I lay was dark except for a soft, dim light coming from down the hall. I sat up, rubbed my eyes and whispered, “Hey, Dad.” A quick glance at my watch told me it was 4:00 a.m.My father smiled. “Hey, son. I’ve already eaten, so you grab something for the road, and the gear, and I’ll meet you in the car.”I nodded, and he turned and walked out of the room. Giving a great yawn, I rolled out of the bed and stretched. I yawned again, and then took hold of 2 large duffel bags and began dragging them down the hall. As I headed towards the kitchen, I reflected on the events of the previous day. In a rush, my dad and I had zoomed down from his house in the mountains to the coast. We had holed up at a relative’s house and went to bed early in anticipation of our wake-up time. Today was a day of huge importance, and we would have to be well-rested for the trials ahead of us.I shuffled into the kitchen, and after considering for a moment, I popped a bagel into the toaster and softened some butter in the microwave. While the bagel was cooking, I absentmindedly patted the relatives’ dog, wondering what lay before us this day.I was jolted out of my thoughts by the pop of the bagel as the toaster finished crisping it. Swift as lightning I grabbed the two halves of the bagel, spread some butter on them, and hurried out the door with the bagel in one hand and the two duffel bags in the other. I closed the door with my foot, tossed the bags in the back of Dad’s car, and buckled my seat belt as I slid into the front seat. The car headed off towards the pier, where our boat was waiting.In ten minutes, Dad pulled into a parking space. We pulled the stack of duffel bags out of the car and staggered towards the pier with our heavy load. We showed the guard our tickets, and climbed onboard the ship. We met up with the rest of the class and wished each other luck today.Soon after we got on, the boat pulled away from the pier and sped towards the island that was visible on the horizon. I impatiently scuffed my shoes as I watched the white-capped waves zip by.In about forty-five minutes, the ship docked at the island wharf and we bustled out, carrying most of the heavy duffle bags on a hand-truck. My dad and I walked around the other side of the cove and arrived at a stretch of rocky beach. Before we unloaded the bags, I leaped across the rocks like a mountain goat and tested the water with my foot. I shivered; it was cold. I bounded back over to help my dad with the gear.We unzipped the duffle bags, and out came a wild assortment of equipment. I sifted through the pile, found my full-body wetsuit, hood, gloves, boots, and flippers and began the laborious task of getting them on. The wetsuit was the hardest because my hands could barely fit through the openings at the ends of the sleeves. Once that was over, however, it wasn’t hard to pull the hood over my head, strap on the gloves, slip my feet into the boots, and then the boots into the flippers.I walked--somewhat stiffly from the tough fabric--over to the pile of gear, fished out a large vest, and pulled that on. I checked that my dive computer was clipped onto the vest (it was), and cast about for the final piece of equipment. It was easy to find: A round, cylindrical, bright red tank approximately 2 ½ feet in length with a valve on top, and four cords connected to two rebreathers and a pressure gauge. I called my dad over, and he helped affix the tank to my back. He connected the fourth cord to the buoyancy system built into my dive vest, and then gave me a clap on the back. In turn, I helped him get his tank on. I groaned as the weight of the full set of equipment pressed down on me. It felt like I could hardly take a step without collapsing. I sat down with the heavy tank propped against a rock and waited.Fortunately, about five minutes later the class and the teachers arrived. They quickly suited up, and in ones and twos headed down the metal stairway leading towards the water. I leaned forward to adjust the weight of the tank on my back as I carefully placed my awkward flippers in front of each other, trying not to trip on them and fall. My mask was bouncing against my forehead; I had not pulled it over my face because I had not yet entered the water. I made it down to the water’s edge unscathed. Taking a deep breath to calm my taut nerves, I pulled my mask over my eyes and nose, put the rebreather in my mouth, and let myself fall forward into the surging waves.As I hit the water, I tensed, waiting for the expected surge of cold to stab into my body, but there was none. Instead, I felt only a warm dampness against my skin. Surprised and happy that this wonderful occasion wasn’t going to be tainted by freezing ocean temperatures, I grinned behind my rebreather and headed out to the class’s rendezvous point. Once there, I floated until everyone else had gathered around the buoy that marked the location. After catching her breath, the teacher took off her rebreather and said to the class, “Well, everybody, today’s the day. All the lessons, all the times spent sitting on the bottom of a pool, have led up to this day. I have full confidence in each and every one of you, and I think that every person in this class will be leaving the island as a certified Scuba diver. Now, without any further delay, let’s go.” And the class plunged into beneath the surface of the water.The rest of the day was a whirl and a blur of several dives throughout the course of around three hours. I did not remember much about the first four dives, but the fifth and final one is forever emblazoned into my brain.Before this closing dive, my dad and I relaxed and cooled off on the rocks while our tanks were being refilled (I had a reputation for being the fastest in the class to use up my tank’s supply of air), and talked of what we had seen from the dives. After a time, we were called over as the truck carrying the refilled tanks returned. We suited up again, lurched down to the waterline, and repeated the procedure until we were once again swimming, almost flying, through a blue world. We first explored the kelp forest that was like a city wall of the island. I felt as though I had come across a great, medieval underwater land, and these were the green woods were the heroic prince did his adventuring. I expected the fronds to part, to have a shark come barreling through them, pursued by the said prince.I watched the schools of fish as we passed them, amazed at how they each seemed to be a single, shimmering mass. Some were grey, some were iridescent blue, and some were green-yellow. A few, called garibaldi, swam alone but had incredible vibrant orange skin. I affectionately called them “tangerine fish.” The bubbles from my rebreather made a beautiful, bell-like sound as they floated to the surface. I soon became entranced with the noise, and lost myself listening to it.After a while, we cleared the lush kelp forest, passing under an ancient arch formed by a coral reef that seemed to me like the gate out of that green kingdom. Before us was a large series of coral flats that reminded me of continental plains. A few large, herbivorous fish and sharks drifted lazily over the flats, but nothing else. The teacher led us outward, over the flats, towards deeper water. I passed the time by listening to the strange but beautiful music of my rebreather’s bubbles.Fifteen minutes had passed when the group of us, around ten or so people, came to a halt. I nearly ran into the person in front of me, and looked around. The teacher pointed, and I gasped, sending a larger spurt of bubbles toward the surface. The coral flats had ended into a cliff. In front of my amazed eyes was a sheer drop into an opaque sheet of blue. I could see only a fish or two close to the cliff wall, but nothing else.For some time we floated there, hovering over that vast expanse of ocean, when the teacher gestured, sending us on a return journey to the shore. I lingered at the edge of the cliff for a little while longer, fascinated by the hugeness of the open ocean, and then Dad tugged on my shoulder. I followed the class back across the coral flats and into the kelp forest.In the kelp forest, the teacher called another halt, and reached into a pocket on her vest. I was amazed when she pulled out a handful of Scuba License cards, laminated in plastic to protect them from the water. One by one she handed them out to the class, supplemented by a handshake for each student, and then the assistant teacher brought out a bag of frozen peas. The fish instantly swarmed our group, devouring the frozen peas at a fearsome rate. Another assistant had brought an underwater camera with them. Dad and I posed for a picture, holding our certifications, but right when the shutter clicked, a cod swam right in front of the camera. It made for a cool picture, but unfortunately the fish blocked out the certifications.On shore, there was much back-slapping and hearty congratulations exchanged. Dad and I shook hands with and were praised by the teacher and her assistants, and prepared to start the long journey home. As I packed the gear back into the bags, I cast a long look towards the ocean. There was so much in that blue world that man hadn’t discovered yet, and would not discover for a long time. The fascinating and mysterious qualities of the patch of open ocean I had seen proved that. I had had little to no idea what kind of creatures resided in those depths. As many scientists put it, “We’ve explored more of space than we have of the Earth’s oceans.” That day changed my view of the ocean forever. While my career path takes me not to the ocean but to skies, I eagerly scan the Internet frequently, looking for new discoveries.