Scuba diving is great. You don't have to do deep or risky dives to enjoy it. There's a ton of fun in diving around reefs 10m down.

That story is pretty wild. And relatable.

I got myself into a little trouble when I dove the Blue Hole 16 years ago. We were warned pretty heavily how many people have died doing it, so I went in with a healthy level of anxiety. It was my second dive where the dive plan was to go to 40m, which is the limit on regular air.

The descent was surreal. You have the wall of the crater on your side, but everything else is different shades of blue. Past about 10m, there's not really any wildlife to look at, just blue. We descended straight down, going in slow motion. As we went down the blues got gradually darker and deeper.

At probably the high 20s, I started to notice I could really see the surface clearly anymore, and I started to panic. My breath started racing and I started being annoyed by my regulator in my mouth, which is an unnatural feeling to being with. For maybe a minute, I debated whether I should try to get myself under control, or signal my dive instructor I wanted to ascend. Meanwhile, we were still drifting downward. I worried whether nitrogen narcosis might affect my judgment or ability to control my panic.

In the end, I decided not to be a hero. I gave my instructor the thumbs up to ascend, and we went through the orderly process of safety stops. When we got to the top I told her I explained I was feeling panicky (you can't really communicate anything nuanced below the surface), and then I spent the rest of my tank diving the first 10m, which was relaxing, and let me finish the day on a high note.