In late July I began running.  At first I would run to the intersection on my street.  The next run would be to the driveway past that point.  Then another driveway beyond the run before.  And then I eventually ran far enough I could not see my apartment building, nearly half a mile! After 2 months of running 4-5 times per week I could run 5K (3.1 miles).  My crowning glory was when I could run it without having to THROW UP!  That was a milestone (or 3 mile stone) for me!TODAY …………… TODAY ….. I achieved a major personal goal!  Yeah!  Today I ran in my FIRST OFFICIAL RACE.  I run 5K 3-4 times a week. Until I actually entered, ran & FINISHED a race, in my mind I could not consider myself “a runner.”   TODAY I BECAME A RUNNER!!!!Okay, I know it is only a 5K run.  5K is a warm up for the seasoned runner.  A 5k is my average day’s run, I do it 3-4 times a week.  But this time there were other people running with me.  My goal was to not finish last. 

I was so excited for the race.  I had been hydrating for 2 days.  I had 3 quarts of water the afternoon before race.  I ate lunch and carbed up 2 hours before the race.  I was ready! 

Steve picked me up from the office early, where I changed into my running clothes and proudly pinned my badge of honor onto my shirt.  A sheet of teyvac baring lucky #3 was mine to display as it screamed to the world “I am a runner like you!”  We rode the scooter over to the race in order to avoid traffic.  Nothing was keeping me from starting on time for my first race & I needed EVERY second I could get!  At 5pm, slightly warmed up, all stretched out, iPod strapped to my arm I was ready to go.  I told myself to relax and remember to just run the way you always do.  A slow warm-up kilometer, then slowly build until I find my stride.  Remember your breathing and relax your arms.  I am ready!

“GO” screamed the official time keeper and the crowd moved forward.  Me at the front.  The enormous crowd began to pick up pace.  With them behind me, I started picking up pace.  But I NEVER start off this fast, I thought.  Nearly 1K in and could barely breathe.  I made the common and much warned against mistake of starting out with too much speed.  I spent the balance of the race slower than usual due to my initial semi-sprint out the gate.  It was painful.  I thought about just ending at the 2K mark.  By 2K I have found my stride and am getting my second wind.  Ugh!I fought the urge to turn around and kept on trucking along.  The length of people who had passed me grew and stretched out in front me.  I was struggling due to my earlier error.  A woman pushing a 3 wheeled runner’s baby carriage passed me with ease.  Oh the shock!!!!  I struggled as best I could, keeping my time in mind.  At nearly the half way point ANOTHER mom with a carriage passes me.  Oh the HUMILIATION!!!!  They effortlessly trotted on pushing their children along as they became smaller and smaller in the distance.  Last half to go!  Oh the glorious turn around point, water station and the mark of half way home, the start of the slight downhill slope for the return route!  I am feeling great! I started getting my second wind.  Despite the cramp in my foot from slope of the road for drainage, I trudge on.  I cheered myself on in my head.  “I can do this!  Keep going!  All you have to do is finish and not be last!”  My concentration was broken by a third woman who passes me with a stroller (runner # 88).  It was not just any stroller, it was a double wide stroller with twins!  She effortlessly pushed them past keeping her stride smooth and quick.  As she pasted me (ME -huffing, puffing and grunting) with her two children in tow, I considered it might be a wise to reevaluate my training program! 

For the last 2K I had runner #88 in front of me zipping along.  A selfish ray of hope came when she dropped some empty water bottles out of the stroller!  Being a good citizen she stopped to pick them up along with some other random debris.  While she was stopped, I picked up my pace!  Runner 88 tucked them under her stroller then began running again, far a head of me.   About 5 minutes later the bottles bounced out of the stroller again!  This was another chance to pass her!  She STOPPED running (again) to pick them up and put them away.  As she tried to pick them up instead she accidentally kicked them, causing her to chase them a  few feet.  (I secretly cheered LOUDLY in my head and picked up my pace.)  Once the bottles were firmly in hand and secured to her stroller she began running again.  I can tell you all about her running and litter issues as I spent so much time BEHIND HER.  No matter how I tried to gain on her, even while she stopped – TWICE -  I could not gain any ground on her.  So, to environmentally conscious runner #88 with the double wide stroller lugging twins, I say “DAMN GOOD RUN!”

Droves of people with great form, consistent strides and quick feet continued to pass me.  As the sun grew lower I caught site of my shadow.  I saw the problem.  I looked like a troll trying to run up hill in mud!  Well, I wasn’t pretty and I was not going to walk any of that race and I would finish!  Foaming at the mouth, with the last furlong stretched out in front of me I could see the end in site.  I gritted me teeth, mustered what little I had left in me and gave it my all.  I crossed the finish with the grace and speed of a sweaty 3 legged donkey.  But I crossed the finish line of my first race.  I came in 74^th (runner #88 finished 72^nd). 5k (3.1 miles) in 29 minutes!  As we all stood around after the race waiting for the prizes to be announced I saw my nemesis.  Runner #88.  She was taking her children out of the stroller. To my shock, disbelief and great shame there they were.  An infant and a TODDLER!  The woman who had obviously given birth recently pushed a baby and a BIG toddler past me with ease and grace.  Yup, definitely time to reevaluate my training routine!   

 

 

 

 

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When it’s time to change
Then it’s time to change
Don’t fight the tide come along for the ride, don’t you see
When it’s time to change
You’ve got to rearrange
Who you are into what you’re gonna be

I arrived in Cayman in August of 2007, and in the 15 months since then I’ve been working at the Eden Rock Diving Center.  I’ve enjoyed my time there immensely, and I’ve learned a great deal and grown into a very good scuba instructor (if I do say so myself).  But like Peter Brady’s voice, it’s time for me to change.  Today was officially my last day at Eden Rock, and as soon as my new work permit is approved I will start work at Seven Mile Watersports!

As I said, I enjoyed my time at Eden Rock, but there were a few aspects of the job that were less than perfect.  First, most of the diving at Eden Rock is shore diving.  They have two shore sites there — Eden Rock and Devil’s Grotto — and they are genuinely great sites.  But after 15 months of employment, I’ve made at least 300 dives on these sites, and as great as they are, you get tired of doing the same thing time and again.  I also did some boat diving at Eden Rock, but those boat dives were a rare occurrence, and when I did get out on the boat, it was on the west side of the island, where the diving is merely average.  The best diving on the island is on the north side, and it was just too far for us to take the boat up there.  The most famous dive/snorkel on the island (it is world famous, in fact) is Stingray City (where these great pictures of Andrea and the resident moray eel were taken), and I have yet to dive it because we just don’t do Stingray City from Eden Rock.  The lack of variety was probably the biggest factor in my need for change.  Another factor, though, was that my actual time spent scuba diving had been declining since August.  The combination of slow season, hurricanes Gustav and Ike, and the general decline of tourism resulting from the meltdown of the global economy have led to a decrease in tourism over the last few months.  Unfortunately, that has resulted in me spending way too much time sitting in the dive shop selling t-shirts.  I didn’t give up my job as a lawyer to work retail.  Finally, back in May my co-worker Natasha left, returning home to New Zealand.  While I do like my other co-workers, Natasha and I got along really well, and she made work extra fun for me.  She endured my silly conversation topics, engaging in serious conversation with me over silly topics such as who would win in a fight between a stingray and a turtle.  When she left the job became a little less fun.  I still really enjoyed working with Paul, my very good friend at Eden Rock, and not working with Paul is one of the few things that made the decision to change jobs difficult, but without Natasha it just wasn’t the same around the shop.

During our time in Florida doing instructor training, Andrea and I met a guy named James, and we became great friends.  James and his wife moved to Cayman over the summer, and he started working at Seven Mile Watersports.  I was already friends with Elton, another instructor there, and Andrea and I ended up doing a lot of diving with them on our days off. In September Elton decided that he was not going to renew his work permit when it expired, and James suggested that I apply for the job that would open when he left.  I did, and the rest is history!

My new job at Seven Mile Watersports has positives and negatives to it.  Starting with the negatives, I will be working six days a week at the new job (as opposed to 5.5 days at Eden Rock), and those six days will likely involve more hours - 7am to 4pm each day at a minimum, with the possibility that at least a few days a week (if not all of them) last beyond 4pm.  I’ll also be making less money in base salary at the new job than I did at Eden Rock.  On the plus side, I should do much better with tips at Seven Mile than I did at Eden Rock.  Regular readers know that I sometimes had issues with tipping (or the lack thereof) at Eden Rock, and I am hopeful that the nature of the business (more boat trips with repeat divers) will lead to increased tips at the new job.  The biggest positive, though, will be the change in diving.  Seven Mile Watersports runs their boat on the north side of the island, and this is where the best diving is.  Although we are now entering the windy season and the water will be getting a little rougher on the north side, we will still be out on the north wall as often as weather permits, and when weather does not permit, we will be doing shore-dives at various locations on the island (including Eden Rock).  I will also be doing weekly trips to Stingray City  And since Seven Mile Watersports services a resort and does not have a stand-alone dive shop, the job will involve a lot more diving and a lot less time playing the role of shop-tart.

I’m very thankful for the opportunity I was given at Eden Rock, and I value the time I spent there.  But when it’s time to change, then it’s time to change.  Don’t fight the tide, come along for the ride, don’t you see?  When it’s time to change I’ve got to rearrange, who I am into what I’m going to be.

Sha la la la la la la la la  Sha la la la laAAaAaA!

The interesting thing about Vegas is that really, the fun never ends.  Gambling and partying and strip-clubs and shopping and fine dining all go on 24/7, and there are temptations calling you as soon as you walk out of your hotel room.  The famous saying is, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” and that is particularly true of certain types of activities.  With that in mind, there are certain parts of the trip that I won’t be talking about here, namely partying, strip clubs, and similar activities.  Not that anything really “bad” happened out there, but you just have to respect that people go to Vegas to cut loose, and don’t want someone blogging about it afterwards.  Instead, I’m going to focus on the central premise of Las Vegas — money. 

Las Vegas is a massively growing city with new multi-million dollar mega-hotels being built every year.  These hotels keep popping up for the simple reason that there is a lot of money to be made.  Every activity in Vegas is designed to part you from your money, from obvious activities such as gambling and fine dining to less obvious things such as using the gym in your hotel.  Back when I was a lawyer, this wasn’t really a problem for me.  I had lots of money, and if I blew a grand or three in the course of a wild weekend it was ok because as soon as my next pay check arrived I would barely remember the money that was lost.  Now, however, I am a scuba instructor, and unfortunately it is an underpaid profession.  If I spend two thousand dollars on a Vegas weekend, that is one-tenth of my annual income.  A big night out in Vegas consisting of a nice dinner followed by going out to a night club (and transportation to and from each) can easily cost more than what I earn in a week.  And while my income has dropped as I switched from lawyer to scuba instructor, my friends’ incomes have all increased as they have continued to rise in the corporate world.  Although many of them now have families and increased expenses, they still have way more income than I do, and can still afford to spend more freely.

My first encounter with budgeting came before I even left for Vegas, as my group of friends discussed our hotel situation.  In the past we’ve stayed at the Mandalay Bay hotel, and my friends were happy to stay there this time around.  In fact, the plan was to stay in “The Hotel”, which is the fancier branch of the Mandalay Bay.  Even though the plan was to put three people in a room to ease the cost per person, it was still a bit out of my price-range.  After exploring my options, I found a room at the Wild Wild West hotel, a small dive located off the strip that targeted truckers.  I knew that it would not be in the same league as the Mandalay, but it would help me have money to spend on some other fun activities. 

As it turns out, the rooms at the Wild Wild West were adequate (it was similar to a Motel 6, although probably not as nice — there was not even an alarm clock in the room).  But there were two surprise benefits to staying at the Wild Wild West.  First, it had its own casino, and because it was a dump hotel, the minimum stakes at the table were relatively low.  I was able to play $5 blackjack and craps at Wild West, whereas at most of the big resort hotels (including Mandalay) it is very difficult to even find a $10 table.  Because of my monetary concerns, my gambling budget for the trip was quite small, and the low stakes tables allowed me to get some gambling in without breaking my bank.  The second advantage of the Wild West is that it is located directly across the street from In-and-Out Burger, perhaps the greatest fast-food chain there is.  In-and-Out Burger is a west-coast chain, and we didn’t have them in New York (and they are certainly not in Cayman).  One of the special treats of a Vegas trip is making a stop at In-and-Out Burger and enjoying their Double-Double burger (get it “animal style” — very good).  Because of its proximity to the Wild Wild West, I was able to enjoy In-and-Out Burger more than once (to the benefit of my wallet but the detriment of my diet).

Even with $5 tables at the Wild West, gambling can put a hit on your budget very quickly.  I still wanted to limit my exposure to gambling, and to do this it is important to find activities to keep you occupied, especially during the day (at night we were often partaking in the party oriented activities that I am not going to write about).  My friend Adam had done some advance research, and on Saturday afternoon, Adam, my friend Craig and I partook in a fun and affordable activity, as we drove away from the strip and made a visit to the Pinball Hall of Fame.  Located in a run-down strip mall, the Pinball Hall of Fame houses hundreds of pinball games and old-school arcade games.  There is no charge to enter, and most of the games cost only a quarter to play (the more expensive ones cost from fifty cents to a dollar).  This turned out to be a lot of fun.  Adam and Craig took part in an epic battle in the classic video game Track and Field.  Adam and I played air hockey, and Craig and I played the classic USA/Russia hockey game with the players that slide and spin.  And of course, we all played lots of pinball.  It was a fun way to spend two hours, and it cost less than five dollars.

The timing of our trip provided a great cost-free form of entertainment: Sports.  We were there during the baseball playoffs, so there were times when a group of us would just hang out in one of the rooms at the Mandalay, drinking some beers and watching the Red Sox play the Rays in baseball during the American League Championship Series.  And football provided a great deal of entertainment, both on Saturday with college football and Sunday with the pro games.  Some of the guys in our crew were so into football that after staying up all night partying on Saturday, they went directly to the sports-book on Sunday (the games start at 10am Vegas time), skipping sleep entirely just to watch football.  I was not that hardcore; I did get a few hours on sleep on Saturday night, and I was happy to have an enjoyable and expense-free way to spend the day on Sunday.

It was a bit disappointing for me to have to concern myself with money and a budget on this Vegas trip.  There are only a few of these big guys weekends left for my group of friends (as most of us are married, and many have kids), and it was a bit of a shame to not be able to go all-out because of financial concerns.  But that is one of the trade-offs of my career change.  I’m much happier on a day to day basis, but I can no longer spend money without care the way I used to, and I now have to weigh the value of what I buy or do against a day’s wages (or in many cases out Las Vegas, a week’s wages).  I did my best to enjoy myself on the money I could afford to spend, and in the end I was able to have a great time and stay on my budget.  With that said, though, I hope that by the time the next Las Vegas weekend rolls around, I’ll be living on a better salary and will be able to once again live the life of a high roller!

Of course, there were a few factors that made Las Vegas a less than ideal location for a bachelor party when you work as a scuba instructor in the Cayman Islands.  For me, the biggest negative factor was travel. 

Travel details caused me problems from the very beginning.  I tried to book my flights to Vegas during the summer, thinking I would get good fares by booking early. I was disappointed to find that the cheapest flights were over $800, and involved a 23 hour return flight.  Back when I was a lawyer, $800 wouldn’t have been an issue, but as a scuba instructor it is two weeks’ pay.  And when that is the first expense you face and you know there are many more down the line, it becomes tough to commit to such an expenditure.  I waited to book, hoping the prices would drop, only to see them continue to inch higher.  I talked to my friend Sandra, who is a travel agent on the island, hoping she could find me a better deal.  She couldn’t.  Unwilling to buy an $800 ticket, I continued to wait, fearing that I might not be able to go if prices didn’t drop.  Luckily, in August, I logged on to Expedia one morning and found a flight for just under $500, round trip.  It’s not the $300 round trip that you can get from New York, but at this point it looked like the deal of the year for me.  I booked my flights immediately.

I was scheduled to leave on Thursday, and was happy to get to sleep in that morning.  My flight departed at 2pm, which meant I had to get to the airport at noon.  When I arrived at the airport, check-in went smoothly and I boarded my plane.  I was flying US Air from Grand Cayman to Charlotte, NC.  One of the great things about the airport in Grand Cayman is that it is tiny: One runway, a maximum of four planes on the ground at any time, and no waiting once the plane is ready to leave.  The plane took off on time, and I was on my way!

My first surprise of the trip came at 30,000 feet.  I realized that I was flying with a group of cheap, sleazy whores.  No, not the passengers on the plane — US Air.  They are disgusting sell-outs!  The biggest shock came when they announced that beverage service was beginning, and that there was a $2 charge for soda and bottled water (and an even higher charge for alcohol, which is to be expected).  I haven’t travelled much since the economy went into the crapper, and this was my first time experiencing these increased “hidden costs” that now dominate air travel (I did not check a bag, so I avoided any checked bag fee that they now have).  To me, charging for a beverage on a flight is outrageous.  I know the airlines have costs to cover, but I am already paying for those costs in my over-priced ticket.  I would like to think that a dollar out of my $500 ticket might be going towards giving me something to drink on the flight.  I guess not.  Cheap bastards.

On principle, I was not going to buy a $2 soda when I should be getting one for free, so I resigned myself to enduring the two hour flight to Charlotte without a drink, and I took out my ipod to watch a movie.  As I lowered my tray table to set my ipod upon, I witnessed the next step in US Air’s walk of shame — the entire face of the tray table was now an ad for Verizon.  I guess it’s a clever way to bring in some advertising revenue, but still, it’s a bit whoreish.  As I thought about it, I was surprised that they hadn’t put up advertisements along the inside of the plane similar to what they do in subway cars.  At this point US Air wouldn’t be sinking much lower if they plastered the inside of their plane with that ridiculous ad from Doctor Zizmor that you see all over the New York subways.

Disgusted and feeling dirty for giving US Air my money, I turned on my ipod to watch a movie.  It was a short flight, and after an hour I was interrupted by an announcement from the stewardess.  Assuming it was information about our descent, I stopped the movie and took off my headphones to listen.  I wish I could say I was surprised, but at this point it struck me as par for the course to hear the stewardess spend ten minutes (literally!) pitching a US Airways Visa card from Bank of America.  For the low annual fee of $99, I would get 25,000 bonus miles with my first purchase, plus two free companion tickets to use any time (after reading the fine print, I saw this was a lie and the companion tickets were $99).  Now, if you’re into airline miles, this isn’t really a bad deal.  25,000 miles gets you a free domestic ticket (although finding available seats that can be bought with miles is next to impossible), so for $99 that’s not a horrible deal.  But I was so disgusted with US Air and how they were prostituting themselves and their customers at every turn that there was no way I could partake in this deal (the fact that a domestic ticket doesn’t do much for me now that I live in Cayman made the choice even easier).

Often times after flying I’ll feel like I could use a shower, just from sitting in tight quarters with strangers for a few hours.  As the plane landed safely in Charlotte, I desperately wanted a shower, this time because I felt dirty from having associated with US Air, the whore of the friendly skies.

For all the negatives I have to say about US Air, I have nothing but good things to say about the Charlotte airport.  It was FANTASTIC!!!  Right from the start, everything about it was good.  There were no lines at customs, and the customs officers were friendly and efficient.  The airport itself is well designed, everyone is friendly and helpful, and they have some great stores, restaurants and fast food options.  I had two hours to kill during my layover, and it was easy to pass the time wandering through the Charlotte airport. 

My flight from Charlotte to Las Vegas began boarding on time, two hours after I arrived in Charlotte, and other than having to deal with the cheap-ass US Air folks for another flight, I figured that it was smooth sailing from that point on.  I continued to think that, until I heard the “ding” sound of someone paging the stewardess.  And then I heard it again.  And again.  And again.  I noticed that the call light for the stewardess was flashing in the row right in front of me every time I heard the “ding” noise.  The problem was no one was pushing the call stewardess button.  It was malfunctioning, and dinging on its own.  During the remaining 20 minutes of boarding, I noticed this problem and started to grow annoyed by the noise.  I was not the only one to notice it, as the stewardesses were soon over examining the button.  I had resigned myself to hearing that noise throughout the flight (or at least until we took off and I could turn on my ipod), but apparently the stewardesses were not of the same mind.  After the flight was fully boarded (and our scheduled take-off time had already passed), two maintenance workers boarded the plane to fix the malfunctioning call button.  After ten minutes of examination, they decided they needed to take apart the entire console, and informed the crew it would take over an hour to fix.  Groans filled the plane as the captain announced the delay and informed people that they could exit the plane for an hour if they wished.  Of course, this meant that even after the problem was fixed, everyone would have to re-board the plane before it could leave.  Wonderful.

An hour and a half later (over two hours after the scheduled departure time), my flight was in the air, and I was again being shilled a US Air/Bank of America credit card, again being charged for beverages that should really be free.

I arrived in Vegas at 11pm Vegas time, 1am Cayman time, about 15 hours after I left my house to head for the airport.  I was exhausted.  I picked up my rental car and drove to the Paris, where I was sharing a room with my friend Craig.  He had arrived in Vegas earlier in the day on Thursday, and spent the evening with the other early arrivers.  They had gone out to dinner, and while the rest of the group returned to their rooms at the Mandalay Bay to party, Craig headed back to the Paris to get to bed.  I spoke to him when my plane landed at 11, telling him I was on my way to the room.  By the time I arrived, he was already in bed sleeping, and I had to knock on the door and wake him to get in the room.  I was greeted by Craig with words of wisdom: ”We’re getting too old for this shit.”  As I stumbled into the room weary from my day of travel, I couldn’t help but agree.   I took a quick shower, and passed out almost immediately upon getting into bed.

To be continued….

To read Part 2, Click Here

I’m very happy to say that as great as that day was, the last two years haven’t been too shabby either.  During that time we’ve completely changed our lives around, making decisions that some considered risky, even crazy (i.e., leaving New York and our corporate jobs to train and work as scuba instructors).  But for us, these decisions weren’t risky, because we were making them together, and facing the challenges together.  And through all that we’ve faced and all that we’ve done, I would not want anyone else by my side.

I’m going to spare you all from a schmoopy, rambling blog about how much I love my wife.  But I do love her tons, and I am so lucky to be married to her.  The last two years have been amazing, and Andrea and I look forward to many many more years of anniversary celebrations.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TEAM SCHMOOP!!!

I was excited last week when we had a booking for two people to do an Open Water class.  Open Water is the basic level of scuba diving certification, and the class takes about three days to complete.  So I jumped at the chance to teach it, figuring it would keep me busy for a few days!

My two students were a middle-aged married couple, him 50, her 45.  They were Americans, and sadly, as many middle aged Americans are, they were a good deal overweight.  In and of itself this is not a huge problem, but scuba diving is a physical activity, so it is useful to be in moderately good shape.  They indicated no problems on their medical forms, though, so we were good to go.

We spent the first half of day 1 in the classroom, going over academics.  They did fine on this.  The plan was to spend the second half of the day in the water, and to start off with the swim test that is required for certification.  I gave them the choice of doing the swim test before lunch or after lunch, warning them that some people don’t like to do the swim test with a full stomach.  Despite my warning, they chose to take the test after lunch.  I warned them to eat lite and sent them on their way.

They came back an hour later, having gone to a local bar/restaurant for cheeseburgers.  Not exactly what I’d call eating lite, but perhaps my standards are a bit different than theirs.  Regardless, it was time for the swim test, which requires that they swim 200 yards without stopping.  There is no time limit on this swim, no requirement that they do any particular stroke (they can dog-paddle if they want).  We conduct this test in the ocean, but that is a bit misleading, as the ocean is as flat as a lake where I work.  They have to swim out to our dive boat and back, twice (it’s about 50 yards each way).  After explaining what was required, my students were very confident, expressing to me that it would be no problem at all for them.  I was happy to hear this, and they got in the water and headed off full steam ahead towards the boat.  They looked good for the first 50 yards, but when they reached the boat for the first time, I could see they were already tired, especially the husband.  As they struggled to make their way back to the ladder, I could see the husband fading fast, and I prepared to jump in and rescue him.  They were both able to make it back to the ladder and finish the first lap (the first 100 yards of the 200 yard swim), but they both stopped, realizing that they did not have it in them to complete another lap.  On the bright side, though, i didn’t have to jump in and save them….

Being the amazing instructor that I am, I know that confidence is key to learning to dive (or learning to do anything, for that matter), and so I was quick to try to reassure them after their failure at the swim test.  I told them that they could try again the next day, I made excuses that it was probably the lunch they ate or the strong gravitational pull from the moon affecting the water, or anything besides their general lack of physical fitness.  I decided to build their confidence by heading into the water to do some actual diving — confined water dive 1 and open water dive 1. 

There are 5 confined water dives in the Open Water course, where you learn some basic skills in shallow water, and 4 open water dives, where you perform the skills you have learned in deep water.  Confined water dive 1 and open water dive 1 are very easy — they are the two elements of a “discover scuba resort course”, an introductory experience you’d do with someone who is trying scuba for the first time.  There are five simple skills that you do, and then you go for a fun dive on the reef.  I figured this was a good option for them, as it would get them in the water with gear on (decreasing the chance they get exhausted and drown), build their confidence, and show them the fun of scuba diving to get them excited and rebuild momentum for the rest of the course.

After teaching them how to use the scuba gear and going through a briefing on the five simple skills, we got in the water to go for a dive.  After we climb down the ladder into the ocean, I typically have students swim out to the boat on the surface so they can get used to breathing out of a regulator.  This swim is nice and slow, very relaxed, and much easier than the swim test, since the scuba gear helps them float and they are wearing fins that help them swim.  As we reached the boat, I lifted my head out of the water and asked the couple, “how was it breathing out of the regulator?”  The wife had no problems, and the husband replied “It was fine, except I just threw up in my regulator.”  Wonderful.

So after informing me that there was now a big piece of cheeseburger inside his regulator, we decided to swim back to the ladder and get him a new one.  The husband said that he was still up for continuing, and that he in fact felt better now that he vomited than he did before.  So I got him out of the water, changed him over to a new regulator (and sent the other one into the shop to be cleaned and serviced), and we got back in to try again.  As we stood at the ladder in the ocean, the husband tried to get his fins on his feet.  This took a lot of effort for him the first time, and the second time proved to be no different.  For those who don’t know, putting fins on is not at all difficult.  You just have to be able to reach your feet, knees bent.  But this guy was so overweight and out of shape that it was proving to be a real problem.  He was struggling to reach his feet to get the fins on, he was huffing and puffing, and I could see that this was building to something bad.  And sure enough, after a minute or so of trying, he was so worked up from the effort of reaching his feet that he vomited again!!!

I have what I think is a pretty fair rule — two pukes and you’re done for the day.  So we got out of the water, and I sent them back up to the classroom to watch videos as I went into the shop to clean out two cheeseburger-vomit-filled regulators.  Back when I was a corporate finance lawyer in New York I’d often have to clean up other people’s messes, but this was a worse mess than any I’ve had to clean up before.

To make an already long stong story short, over the next two days I was able to use my fantastic teaching and diving skills to get this couple certified as Open Water divers.  It was not easy.  It took a lot of of confidence building and it took a lot of work in the water — they were by no means easy.  It was a difficult two days, but I was able to work with them, get their skils up to a satisfactory level, get their swimming skills up to a point where they could pass the swim test, and sign them off as fully certified scuba divers.

Of course, they were thrilled.  After that first day they had serious doubts on whether they could complete the class, and they even contemplated dropping out and not returning for day two.  So they were very happy and grateful for all of my hard work, and they thanked me numerous times.  And after all of these thank-you’s, they said goodbye and walked out of the shop.  WITHOUT TIPPING ME!!!

I swear, it makes me sick!  I busted my ass for three days with these people, working super-hard to build confidence where there was no reason for confidence to exist, putting in extra effort in teaching to make up for the lack of competence and comfort in the water, and even cleaning and servicing TWO vomit filled regulators.  Even if you don’t believe that scuba instructors should receive tips (which I would strongly disagree with), certainly a tip is warranted where someone goes above and beyond the call of duty, such as where they have to clean up your vomit.  If this gentleman threw up in a restaurant, I’m sure he’d leave a bigger tip than normal because the staff had to clean up after him.  But apparently that same common courtesy doesn’t apply at a dive shop.

As I’ve said in other blogs, it makes no sense to me that people will tip a waiter for carrying a plate of food across the room, but they won’t tip a scuba instructor for teaching them to breathe and survive under water and to have amazing adventures in a safe way, not to mention keeping them safe and alive during three days of training.  Like waiters and waitresses, scuba instructors make less than minimum wage and rely on tips to survive.  The difference is that waiters and waitresses actually get tips, while scuba instructors just get stiffed.

Unfortunately for me, I was too polite to follow these people out into the parking lot and tell them off for being so cheap and not tipping.  Instead I’m just going to hope that someone walks into this guy’s office and vomits all over his desk.

As for me, I’m hoping that business picks up here in Cayman.  Hopefully I will get more time diving and less time working in the shop, and hopefully I’ve cleaned out my last vomit-filled regulator for a while!

I have a friend on the island, an English bloke (that’s what they call themselves), who was excited to watch the Jets game because of their new quarterback, Brett Favre.  He has never watched football before, but he heard about Favre changing teams, and his girlfriend is a big Favre fan, so he wants to see what the excitement is all about.  Favre coming to New York is big news for the Jets, indeed.

But this friend of mine said something that got me thinking.  He said that he understood that Favre was like the David Beckham of football (american football, not soccer football).  I said that I didn’t think this was quite accurate (although it really is, as they are both superstars that are aging and past their prime, but still performing well).  But I figured that he meant that Favre was the biggest star in the sport, and even though he is good, Favre is not that.  And that got me wondering who in the NFL would be the equivalent of David Beckham.  And that led to the more important question:  Who is the Babe Ruth of Football?

Most sports have a “greatest player ever”.  Baseball has Babe Ruth.  Basketball has Michael Jordan.  Hockey has Wayne Gretsky.  Even Soccer has Pele (or Diego Maradona, the Barry Bonds to Pepe’s Babe Ruth).  But what about Football?  Who is the greatest ever to play the game?

It’s a tough question, because football is the ultimate team game.  The positions are so specialized and everyone has different parts to do.  Comparing a quarterback and a running back is apples and oranges.  One would seem to have to think that the best player ever would be a quarterback, since it is the key position in the game.  But I don’t know — there have been some other great players out there. In football the conversation seems to lend it self to greatest at a particular position.  Lawrence Taylor can be argued as the greatest linebacker ever, Ronnie Lott the greatest safety ever.  At Runningback you could argue  Jim Brown or Emmitt Smith, maybe even Barry Sanders.  At quarterback you could argue Montana, Starr, Bradshaw, Marino, and yes, Favre. 

In some positions it is more clear than others, though.  For the greatest wide receiver of all time, there is no argument.  It is Jerry Rice.  He’s just far and away better than any other receiver ever to play the game.  He not only re-wrote the record book, he destroyed it, shattering records and leaving a huge gap between him and number 2. 

Because of his absolute dominance over every other player to play the same position, I’d be inclined to argue that he would be the Babe Ruth of football, the best to ever play the game.  Except that people don’t think of him the way they think of Babe Ruth or Michael Jordan.  He’s perceived as great, but not as the clear cut greatest.

So I figured I’d see if anyone of my hundreds of thousands (ummm, yeah…) of readers has an opinion on this.  Who is the best player ever, and why?  Next time my English friend asks me, who should I tell him is the Babe Ruth of football?

I am a big football fan.  When I was younger I was a big sports fan generally; I avidly followed baseball, football and basketball (college and pro).  But as I got older, my passion for baseball and basketball dropped, and now I’m at the point where I might only watch a few Yankees games a year, and the occasional college basketball game during March Madness.  Sad, right?  But my passion for football has not dimmed, and I am still a big fan.

My team is the New York Jets.  For the last six years that I lived in New York, I was a season ticket holder, and would go to all the games with my good friend Adam.  We’d tailgate with other friends in the parking lot, and it was always a good time.  On days when the Jets were away, my friends and I would often go to sports bars to watch all the games on tv and follow the performance of the players on our fantasy football teams.  One of the things I was most sad about when leaving New York was that I’d be missing out on football Sundays, both going to the games live and watching them on tv with friends.

Down in Cayman, football has been somewhat difficult to follow.  Last season (during my first few months on the island), I don’t think I watched more than 6 or 7 games all season (back in New York I’d watch most of the 14 games played every week).  The problem is that I work on weekends, and so I was never able to see the games on Sunday afternoons.  Most of the games I was able to see were the Sunday night and Monday night games, and even those were sometimes difficult to stay awake for, since I go to sleep early and wake up early down here.

In order to aviod this problem this season, I’ve changed my days off.  I now work a half-day on Sunday.  This means that I get out of work at 12:30 Cayman time, or 1:30 east coast time.  By the time I can get to a sports bar (or get home), I’ve missed the first hour of the 1pm games.  But at least I get to see some of them, and I’m out of work to watch the 4pm games in their entirety. 

During the first two weeks of the season I’ve watched football at a sports bar called Legends.  It is a nice place with lots of tvs, and they show all the games.  The big downfall of this bar, though, is the crowd.  There are very few Americans on the island.  Most of the ex-pats here are Canadian, English, South African, or European.  And with the exception of the Canadians, most of them do not understand american football.  This past Sunday, I spent the majority of the Jets/Patriots game (which I was very into and which was a frustrating game for Jets fans) explaining the rules of football to an English friend of mine.  He actually picked it up pretty well, but still, it’s not the same as watching the game in a room full of screaming Jets fans (although there were a few Jets fans representing).

Andrea and I are very happy with our island lifestyle, but I have to admit that one of the things I really look forward to when we eventually move back to the United States is to be able to more actively follow football, to be able to go to games live, and watch in a bar filled with die-hard fans.  Until then, though, I’ll have to make due with only having to work half a day on Sunday, and to spend the other half listening to English idiots complain that rugby is a better sport than football and wonder why they don’t take tea-time during the game like in Cricket.  Ahh, the joys of island life….

The one down side to Cayman weather is hurricane season, and we are feeling that down side right now.

Last week we had hurricane Gustav, which came very close to the island.  Andrea, Duffy and I were back in the United States at the time, which was very fortunate.  We didn’t have to worry about our safety or about weathering the storm.  The flip-side to being away, though, is that we did have to worry about our property and possessions.  The big concern was our vehicles.  In particular, I drive an old Audi, which I had left parked in the lot at my dive shop (and stupidly, I did not leave a key behind).  I was sure that the car would get flooded during Gustav, because the parking lot floods during a heavy rain, and a hurricane is much worse than a heavy rain.  When I returned to the island I was very relieved to find that the Audi was fine — the lot had flooded and the water was tire deep, but there was no water on the inside and no serious damage to the car.  Our other cars and our apartment were also fine, so we were very lucky with Gustav in terms of property damage.

Gustav did affect me in two other ways, though.  First, it delayed my return to the Cayman Islands by a few days.  I was lucky to be able to stay with my in-laws, Gladys and Andrew, and those extra days turned out to be very nice (one night we went out to dinner and got a HUGE seafood platter that had more seafood in it than I see on a typical dive!).  Getting new flights (and the lines and crowds of people trying to get backto the island) turned out to be a big hassle, but I really can’t complain about it too much, as Andrea, Duffy and I were all able to get back to the US safely.  Once back on the island, though, I felt the second impact of Gustav — no tourists, and thus, no diving.  Because Gustav was headed straight for the Caymans, the vast majority of the tourists evacuated.  So for the first six days that I was back, there was no one diving.  I ended up just sitting around the dive shop trying to find ways to kill time.  It was boring and very frustrating.

I had my day off from work on Monday, and Andrea and I were excited to do some diving together (since we hadn’t been diving during the lull after Gustav), but Hurricane Ike decided to ruin our plans.  Ike has been brutal for a number of islands (Grand Turk, Haiti, Cuba), but fortunately it did not come close to Grand Cayman. What it has done, though, is stir up the seas, making diving very difficult (and not worth the effort of fighting the poor conditions).  So there was no diving for us on Monday.  And today (Tuesday) I am back at work, again just sitting around bored, trying to kill time until the work day ends. 

In general I do not miss my job as a lawyer, but one thing I do miss is working near a computer.  At my old job, when work was slow (and sometimes even when it wasn’t) I could amuse myself by surfing the net or emailing/IMing with friends.  When you work in a dive shop, that’s not an option.  We do have a computer in the office (I am using it now to write this blog), but I can’t spend the whole day sitting online — at most I can get 30-45 minutes on it before I have to go back down to the shop and resume the painful task of passing time.

Today is a waste of a day, and tomorrow is likely to be the same, as we wait for hurricane Ike to move far enough away for the seas to calm.  Don’t get me wrong — we are lucky that Ike missed us, and I am grateful that we haven’t had a big hit from a hurricane (although Dean came very close last year) or suffered any major damage from one.  But still, hurricane season is not that fun.  Even when you’re not hit directly, they can still impact you, as I’m learning with Ike right now. 

Unfortunately we are right in the prime time of hurricane season right now.  September and October are the months where there is the most potential for a big storm.  Obviously, I’m hoping that Ike is the last storm I see for this season, and that the diving picks up again soon!  Until then, though, you can find me sitting in the dive shop, reading a book and watching the clock….

I am actually very concerned that one of our cars is going to get severely damaged in the storm.  It is parked in a place that is subject to heavy flooding, and unfortunately I did not leave a key behind, so I can’t have anyone move it.   Hopefully it will be fine, and if it is damaged that will be a shame, but ultimately nothing is more important than our personal safety.  The car can always be replaced.

We will be tracking the storm, and we hope that all of our friends in the Cayman Islands stay safe and enjoy any storm parties they may be having.