There’s a moment before your first open water dive where the world goes completely still.
You’re suited up, standing on the edge of a boat, staring down into water deeper than anything you’ve ever known.
Excitement and fear feel identical.

For us, that moment changed everything.

Waking Up for the Big Day

We woke up early, packed our bags, and headed to Black Turtle Dive. Sita and Grace walked us through the day’s plan; calm, casual, nothing overwhelming.

We packed our gear:

• BCD
• Mask
• Fins
• Snorkel
• Regulators

Then walked toward the pier where the blue dive boat, packed with scuba gear waited. Michaela was silent. I wasn’t sure if she was focused or quietly panicking.

Boarding the Boat

There’s a strange mix of nerves and adrenaline when you know you’re about to descend into a world you’ve never been part of.

I was bouncing with excitement.
Michaela… not so much.

If I was heads, she was tails.

After a final briefing, we geared up: wetsuits zipped, weight belts tightened, masks ready.

Then we lined up on the boat’s edge.

The Giant Stride

I practically jumped off the boat before my brain caught up.

But Michaela froze.

She was the last one standing there, mask on, fins shaking slightly, gripping the rail.

Sita noticed immediately.
She stepped beside her and said a soft, encouraging way:
“Just breathe. One step at a time.”

One breath.
Another.
And then Michaela took the biggest step of the trip, her giant stride into the ocean.

Descending Into the Unknown

The warm water flooded into our wetsuits, and beneath us the reef appeared. Patches of coral, flashes of fish and sunlight slicing through the blue.

For someone who once avoided even the shallow edge of the sea, she was now floating above an entire underwater world.

We practised our skills first:

• Regulator recovery
• Mask clearing
• Buoyancy checks

Then Sita gave the signal.

We deflated our BCDs and began to sink like we were all in slow-motion.

The Moment Everything Changed

At three metres, Michaela reached for my arm. Not panic, just reassurance.

I squeezed her hand and pointed to a pair of butterflyfish weaving through coral.

At around 10–12 metres, we settled into the dive.

Her breathing softened.
Her movements relaxed.
The fear melted away.

And then it happened, the moment I knew she was truly enjoying it.

She let go of my arm and drifted forward on her own, completely calm, completely present, completely free. Still with the reassurance that I was still close by.

Exploring the Reef for the First Time

The underwater world opened around us:

• A baby moray eel peeking from its cave
• Parrotfish chewing coral
• Sunlight shimmering across white sand
• Coral blooming in colours you don’t see on land

We moved slowly, weightless, guided by Sita and Grace hovering nearby, giving us space to take everything in.

Time didn’t feel real underwater.
Everything was peaceful.

We stayed until we hit our no-decompression limit and our air began to run low.

Surfacing & Realising Everything Had Changed

When we surfaced, regulators came out and everyone erupted into excited shouting and laughing.

But Michaela’s face said it all.

This was no longer fear.
This was awe.

We climbed back onto the boat, dripping and buzzing, and without thinking, before our fins were even off, we looked at each other and said at the same time:

“Let’s do it again.”

And just like that, diving became part of our story.