I’m on a boat in the middle of the Coral Sea about to do a dive. I’m not a

strong swimmer, I don’t even like putting my head underwater. What has

induced me to sign up for this madness?

There’s a group of us, including my younger brother Bob, and now we are being

handed a liability waiver. I thought it was just sharks to worry about, but no,

apparently there is also: heart attack, hyperventilation, drowning,

decompression sickness, embolism, oxygen toxicity, narcosis induced

disorientation, paralysis, death or equipment failure. Still at least we had that

ten minute induction in the swimming pool. I sign. There is no way I am

bottling it in front of my younger brother. I’m one of six and the childhood

sibling rivalry still lingers in our adult psyches.

The instructor tells us we will dive twice but that if anyone is struggling they

just need to give him a thumbs up sign and the whole group will come back to

the surface.

We go down and it is so, so beautiful. These colours; the colours of the fish, the

colours of the coral, don’t exist in our world, the closest I have got is the

London Aquarium. But then somehow, I end up out in front of the group,

nobody to follow and I panic. I can’t breathe. I turn around and there is the

instructor: all I have to do is give him the thumbs up.

I can’t do it, I’m too embarrassed, I don’t want to ruin it for everyone. So

British. I am still hyperventilating and then my voice in my head goes,

“breathe, just breathe” over and over again, and eventually it works. My breath

slows, finds its normal rhythm.

We come up to the surface and then back down again for the second dive. And

this time I get to enjoy it.

For years afterwards I felt sheepish: would I really rather die than cause a fuss?

But on reflection I think something else was at play. As one of six siblings we

were often left to our own devices, and maybe the constant refrain from our

parents of “fight your own battles” finally paid off. In some way we were given

the inner resources to get through things. And in the last few years when I

have had to deal with the loss of two siblings and have encountered again

those feelings of panic, that voice is still telling me, “breathe, just breathe.”