Every time I come to Dahab, I learn so much about freediving and about life. It’s such a fascinating place to be. Where cultures mesh together in an unusual yet strangely natural way. A place where bedouins and European hippies walk side by side.
The first time I came to Dahab for a week, I had become bed ridden after just the third day of diving. My approach to freediving, back then, was the same approach I’d gotten used to applying to other sports; train hard until exhaustion, and repeat. I learnt (the hard way) that freediving stresses the body unlike any other sport. The way fatigue settles in is also very unique. Freediving fatigue manifests in the form of a strange sensation that makes you feel not quite right, or not quite motivated to get back into the water. Every time I’d try to eat, I’d struggle to keep my food down. Sleeping become extremely difficult. Physically, my body settled in a seemingly never ending state of deep fatigue. Mentally, I wasn’t feeling so good. The toughest part was not knowing what was wrong with me. I did stool tests, blood tests among other examinations, and still wasn’t one step closer to the root cause. Most doctors would conclude by saying something along the lines of “Are you stressed out? Maybe depressed? Seems like that’s what this.” Hear that enough times from more than a couple of people, and then you really start doubting yourself. Am I really depressed? No, it can’t be … Or is this what it actually feels like? A few difficult weeks later, I was finally diagnosed with G.E.R.D. (https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/gerd/symptoms-causes/syc-20361940). It took a couple of months to work through it and heal my stomach, and I think I’ve made a fully recovery. My guess is that it was induced by the physical stress caused by suddenly exposing my body to difficult conditions.
The second time I came to Dahab for about 10 days. A few days in, I experienced a throat squeeze doing a negative (empty lung) dive to about 5 meters. It wasn’t deep, but since my lungs were already close to their residual volume (after a full exhale and two reverse packs), the pressure I felt at 5m simulated the pressure one might feel at depths of 40 meters or more. Upon resurfacing, I felt a strange feeling in my throat, and coughed up a bit of blood. This incident, along with some equalization issues, prevented me from continuing to dive for the rest of the trip. Nevertheless, I continued to return home with take home value. Unintentionally experiencing what it’s like to black out during a breath hold (after about 5 minutes and 45 seconds) was so fascinating. I learnt to completely ignore “false” urges to breath like discomfort / contractions, and identify more accurate signs of low oxygen such as numbness and a surreal sense of euphoria. Funniest thing is that I had absolutely no recollection of blacking out and wanted to stay underwater to keep holding my breath after regaining consciousness. I was actually upset at my safety buddies for pulling me out of the water.
Now I’m back in Dahab, third time around, for a week. I decided to focus on the CNF (constant weight without fins) free diving discipline, which involves diving down and back up without the assistance of fins, a rope or anything else. To me, it’s the purest and most enjoyable way to dive. I’m currently reading Oxygen (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35284961-oxygen) by William Trubridge, an autobiography by the only person in the world to dive 100+ meters without fins. I can’t stop dreaming of what doing something like that would feel like. Of what it would take to mentally and physically prepare for such a trip to the depths of the ocean (and back up!). My training was going really well, and it became clear that I’d be able to contend for a national record soon. I was gradually and carefully progressing to deeper depths with ease, planning to match the current record by the end of my this training week.
After the second session of our third day, I surfaced comfortably after setting a new personal best of 36m CNF. It was the most enjoyable dive I’ve experienced to date. After spending a few minutes on the buoy to relax and lower my heart rate, I took a full breath, and began my duck dive. My left arm got caught around the lanyard which caused a bit of a delay, but I was comfortable to keep going down. The first 3 strokes are powerful and in quick succession, to fight against positive buoyancy. After the third stroke, I begin to glide between arm strokes and kicks, as my chest compresses and my body sinks. After two more easy strokes, I’m at 20m and begin my free fall. Legs straight, arms by my side, head facing the rope with my chin close to my chest. This is the meditative part of the dive, where you can let go and just enjoy the ride. I feel the water flow around my body as I get deeper and deeper. I begin counting my equalizations to get a rough indication of how deep I am. After free falling for about 16 seconds, my final depth alarm vibrates and I can see the end of the line. I grab it with my right arm and my body continues falling until I’m upright. I give the rope a nice pull and begin the toughest part of the dive, the way back up. 1 stroke. 2 strokes. 3 strokes. What a feeling. In moments like this I completely lose my sense of identity, my sense of where I am or what I’m doing.There’s no “I”. Just existence. Just experience. 4 strokes. 5 strokes. I have company now. I smile to reassure my safety diver that I’m feeling great. By now I can feel the air in my chest begin to expand once more. I can begin gliding upwards as I return to being more positively buoyant. 6 strokes. I’m about 10m away from the surface. The 7th stroke is easy and effortless, and I can continue gliding back up to the surface gently. I go through my recovery protocol, and just can’t believe how enjoyable that was.
A few minutes later, I checked for traces of any internal bleeding by spitting on my palm, as I’d normally do after setting a PB. It was disappointing to see bright red blood. I knew that this marked the premature end of yet another trip to Dahab.
As part of the safety protocol the follows, we went straight out of the water and straight to a doctor. There seemed to be nothing major, and I was told to return back in a couple of days for a follow up. Towards the evening, it became progressively harder and harder to breathe. After dinner, I felt a bit scared. It felt like a heavy rock was pressing down against the middle of my chest, making it painful to breathe. The rock kept getting heavier and heavier. What’s happening? Am I okay? Would I ever be able to dive again?
I’m grateful to my friends that helped me get to the hospital right away. The doctor made a few inspections, took an x-ray, put me on drip and some sort of ventilator. My blood pressure was quite low. He told me get two different types of inhalers to help me breath, and some antibiotics. The strange part was that we still didn’t have a clue what was going on. I didn’t want to take anything he subscribed, but my wife made me use the inhaler before going to bed just to be on the safe side. Unfortunately you’re average doctor isn’t a freediver. Luckily, there is in fact a doctor who specializes in freediving injuries, and a freediver himself for that matter. He has a somewhat legendary status among the freediving community. The next day at 4pm, half an hour before his clinic opens, my wife and I made our way to Dr. Haikel.
The moment I walked into his office, he gazed into my eyes as if he was peering into my soul. He’s extremely friendly, and has a cool confidence about him that can only come from years of experience. I was comforted to be in his presence. It’s going to be okay. He proceeded to explain to my wife how to assess diving injuries in case the knowledge would ever come in handy in the future. Dr. Haikel proceeded to examine my ears, nose, throat, trachea and lungs.
He eventually diagnosed me with a laryngo-tracheal squeeze, and told me to take a break from diving for 3 - 4 weeks. He also prescribed two types of medicine, one to reduce inflammation and the other to help speed up the healing process.
Drawn by Dr. Haikel to illustrate location of the squeeze.
I’m immediately comforted to know that I’ll be able to get back into the water in about a month. What remains is finding out exactly what went wrong, so that I learn from my mistake. Once an injury is sustained, even after a full recovery, some scar tissue is formed creating a weak link. I need to make sure I don’t do this again.
After speaking to dozens of experienced free divers, here are some of the possible causes of injury:
Using my arms too strongly during the first few strokes after reaching the bottom. A sensitive part of the dive where all movements need to be soft and gentle.
Lack of shoulder mobility, causing my chest to over-extend while compressed at depths
Lack of inward chest flexibility
Over the next few months, I’ll try to make these weak points my strengths. I’ll work towards increasing my shoulder mobility and chest flexibility. I’ll also practice improving my swimming technique at depths to put less stress of the chest area.
Huge thank you to Haya, Eyad and Ahmed for all your help. For taking care of me. For bringing up my spirits when I was down.
Dahab, I’ll be back again soon. Next time will be different. I know it.
God bless you dear, best is yet to come, wish you a fast recovery champion, take rest and next trip hopefully to the freediving paradise would be great to achieve your goals, hopefully to catch up soon 🤜🤛 take care my dear.