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QUALIFYING TO GO DEEPER We gradually descended to our final depth of 225 feet, at which point I can honestly say that there was nobody home in my head. There was a very slow, very deep breathing process going on and that was it. My eyes looked around in complete awe as we both scanned the underwater horizon only to be greeted by a ten-foot reef shark cruising the periphery of our vision. My brother pointed to it as I nodded back. I felt like I was three years o ld, drinking choco late m il k and watch ing my favorite cartoon. I knew that shark personally; I was his best friend. I was him undulating through the warm blue water at the edge of the void. Once again I looked up and saw what fe l t like 10,000 feet of water separating us from the warm breezes that blew at the surface. I could fee l the sun as it entered th e spot between the two eyebrows on my forehead. The ocean wall had many layers like the contours of a great mountain , something I hadn't noticed on our descent. It was carved by the hand of some power so great I felt it an equally powerful honor just to be able to witness its magnificent shapes. About 120 feet above us, some other divers in our party swam like tiny s low-moving insects. Hearing the beep of the dive computer was like being awakened from a great dream by your alarm clock on a Monday morning. My trance was broken and rep laced by the knowledge that our stay was over. Now we had to make our way cautiously back to the surface to decompress . We moved at a rate no greater than one foot per second to avoid decompression sickness, an umbrella term for all of the problems that can occur at such depth (l ike th e bends or an air embolism, where air bubbles burst through the air sacs of the lung wall). Our stay at 225 feet was brief, but the dive would forever cement my reverence for the sea, like a tattoo you might get in an intoxicated stupor. Only this drunkenness was not alcoho l induced; it was an intoxication with the awesome beauty of the sea . The nitrogen in my b lood Deep diving is risky business and not recommended by the dive associations due to the narrow margin of e"ror involved. It is technical diving that involves different mixtures of air, a series of complicated stops on the ascent to avoid decompression sickness and increased risks associated with nitrogen narcosis . PADl (Professional Association of Dive Instructors) a recreational diving organization, doesn' t condone exceeding the recreational dive limits of 130 feet. NAUI (N ational Association of Underwater Instructors), an educational dive organization does provide training in the realm of scuba below I30 feet. But it is a complex and highly technical certification. If you want to go deeper, dedicate yourself to learning the riSkS and pay strict attention to the rules of deep diving in ord er to do it safely. It's a gamble. !fyou have to think twice about it, it's not for you. helped create this vision, b u t nitrogen was not its cause . T h e nitrogen affected my experience in the same way peyote might help a Native American shaman access an altered state of mind. We took momentary breaks in our ascent, at about 120, 80 and 60 feet. Finally, at 15 feet, spare ai r tanks tethered onto a safe ty stop bar under the boat l eft us hanging like a couple of fetuses sucking air through long rubber hoses in total ecstasy. How right I was in embarking on this dive; the reward tru ly outweighed the risk . In all my years alive on this planet as Neil Simon, I knew the sacred bl iss of deep diving before I actually made my triumphant first deep dive. Some will say that deep diving is nothing more than a nitrogen- induced high, but others like myself can tell a whole different story, one that brings me back quickly and peacefully to the sacred force of creation that was my lonely heartbeat as I stared at the sun from deep within the womb of the sea. • Dedicated in loving memory of my b rother &; dive partner, Alain Nahmias .