From Bubble Blower to Dive Boss: My Deep Dive into Becoming a PADI Instructor
It all started back in 1985 when I got my NAUI Open Water certification through Scuba Hut @ HCC (Howard Community College)—back when I was managing the college’s pool and dive computers were just really good at... not existing. (Remember the first one called the “edge?”)
Enter My Donna… ❤️ (BTW - Tomorrow 6/2 is our anniversary would have been our 40th. 25 w/ her and 15 w/o)
She was everything I wasn’t at the time—organized, fearless, and diving through PADI. Under her influence, (not only got me to get onto OCBP) she convinced me to rack up my certifications with PADI. We were just friends back then, though there was already plenty of chemistry—and not just the nitrogen in our tanks.
While I stayed behind to finish college, Donna—along with the rest of our tan and sandy crew from Ocean City Beach Patrol and our little Bayshore apartment (Scott and Margy)—headed to Hawaii. (Hence the name of my dinghy: “Kona,” which means Donna in Hawaiian—and how I found out about it.)
Plot twist: distance made the heart grow fonder. Donna came back realizing she missed doing all the fun stuff with me that we had done the past 2 years together. So, we started dating.
While we were together, she tackled her Instructor Certification. And let me tell you, it was brutal back then. No internet. No electronic study guides. Just books, binders, and blood pressure spikes. I remember watching her stress-eat granola bars like they were oxygen tanks. I even became one of the first students she certified as in Advanced Open Water Diver!!
Fast forward to our early married days, pre-kids. Donna worked at Sea Colony Aqua Sports as both an instructor and in retail. I trailed behind her like a loyal scuba puppy, logging dive after dive, playing the role of unofficial assistant and eternal student. I even got my Rescue Diver cert and began my Divemaster training.
Began, I said…
Because back in 1990 I did everything... except take the test. I’ve never liked written exams—my brain prefers hands-on problem solving to bubble-filling agony. So I shelved it figuring we would work on it when we got the pool built. …and we did have the in ground pool installed to do SCUBA class. Unlike most pools 8’ deep I had the pool built 10’ deep allowing her to do classes in our back yard. Things were all set for her to start teaching at our house!
Then Donna passed away. Life cracked open in a way I didn’t expect.
Years later, when my son Jake was old enough to get certified, and I had enough spare change to get all three of my boys trained and outfitted. Back to the dive shop I went, and guess what? The owner was shocked I wasn’t already a Divemaster.
“I swear Donna certified you!” I said, “Nope. I did everything but the darn written test.” After a quick refresher (and a deep sigh), I finally took the test and officially became a Divemaster in 2013. It only took me a few decades. No biggie.
For years after, I resisted becoming an instructor. I’d had a front-row seat to Donna’s stress, I knew how expensive it was, and frankly, the dive shop up here didn’t pay instructors—it just offered shop discounts. I told myself, “No way. Not happening.”
And then came the breakup with my “Live-In Nurse.” (Cue sad violin. Or Taylor Swift. Dealer’s choice.)
Suddenly, the idea didn’t seem so crazy. Why not get my instructor cert? I can work from anywhere, meet fascinating people, and actually get paid (in cash!) to do something I love. Every dive I teach is one less dip into Donna’s and my IRA. It felt right. So, I enrolled. And that’s where I am today—back to the books, regulator in hand, chasing bubbles and purpose.
The dive shop owner laughed at my hesitation. “Donna was 21 and new to diving when she started,” he said. “You? You’ve been doing this for thirty years and have probably helped more students than some instructors.” That’s true—I’ve lost count of how many checkout dives and pool sessions I’ve tagged along on. I may have taken the scenic route, but I’ve been preparing for this since acid-washed jeans were cool (the first time).
What I have to learn (or re-learn) is no joke. We’re talking:
Dive physics: Archimedes, Boyle, Charles, Dalton, and Henry—all the guys who sound like they should be in a jazz band but actually explain why you don’t explode underwater…. All things I had advanced knowledge of as a biomedical engineer working on ventilators and anesthesia carts.
Physiology: lungs, blood gases, and why breathing compressed air makes diving feel like both science and magic. … once again things I once had advanced knowledge of as a biomedical engineer.
Equipment: regulators, pressure gauges, and the gear that keeps us from becoming fish food.
Dive skills: currents, lift bags, CESA (Controlled Emergency Swimming Ascent), and other acronyms you hope to never use for real.
The Recreational Dive Planner (RDP): aka the sudoku of scuba—dive tables, multi-level profiles, and surface intervals galore.
And that’s just the written portion!!
Next up: I will have four intense days in Key Largo doing pool and classroom work to test everything I’ve learned. Then comes a three-day instructor exam: written test, pool-teaching session, classroom teaching presentation (in front of a panel of Very Serious People™), and an open water teaching evaluation.
Oh, and all of this? Runs upward of $4,000 (not counting travel or hotel).
But here’s the thing—besides it all being a tax write off, it’s worth it.
PADI instructors are in demand, and once I’m certified, I’ll have the freedom to teach, travel, and earn doing something I love—while introducing others to the underwater world that’s been part of my life for decades.
From tagging along on Donna’s checkouts, to grieving her loss, to raising three incredible boys and finding new purpose after heartbreak—it’s all been leading here.
I might be late to the party, but I brought my fins, and I know how to throw an underwater dance.And I’ll be thinking of my Donna the whole time—knowing exactly how envious she’d be of me and how I am now living my life! (She knew how much I hated the corporate world.)
So stay tuned… Instructor status is just a few giant strides away.
On this Feast of the Visitation, my reflection from today’s mass has me thinking of Mary’s courageous journey and her unwavering “yes.” The Gospel reading (Luke 1:39–56) recounts Mary’s visit to Elizabeth and her proclamation of the Magnificat—a song of joy, humility, and trust in God’s plan. As I always try to apply the Sunday mass readings to my life now, I see that Mary’s journey, filled with faith and courage, mirrors my own path: embracing a new chapter, honoring Donna’s legacy, and stepping into my role as a PADI instructor.
Like her, I’m stepping into a new chapter—honoring the past, embracing the present, and trusting in the journey ahead.
