Following on from the last post, this is Karli's story:
The next post will be some ideas as to how Karli could get published in some of the UK / World's biggest travel magazines. Bizarrely, breaking into the diving magazine market might prove more of a challenge.
Keep writing...
Brendan
The story so far...
I suppose I’ve always been a bit of an adrenaline-junkie, a thrill-seeker, living for that next moment that will leave me with a stupidly wide grin on my face and a feeling that I’ve just experienced something I’ll remember for the rest of my life. It’s why I got into journalism – the rush, the exhilaration, the sense of achievement from ‘pulling it off’ in such a fast paced, frenetic and demanding environment. Ever since I ran my very own radio station at the age of 8 – not as grand as it sounds, I was merely broadcasting to my mates in Mum’s bungalow attic with a ghetto blaster (remember pressing the play and record button at the same time to record your favourite tracks off the top 40??) – I knew a life of excitement was the only way for me.
Since those innocent days I’ve actually become a broadcast journalist and spend my days doing what I once played make-believe over. I’ve secretly whoop-whooped inside when I got shifts at national news channels and I’ve kept my excitement at interviewing Basil Brush for the BBC. Not cool to show you’re in awe of celebrities you know... even those as legendary as Basil. It’s hardly a surprise, then, that the thrill I got from reporting live on location and breaking stories as they happen spilled over to my life outside the newsroom.
I fell in love with diving in Bali in 2009. My equally adventurous other half had qualified as a diver years before in New Zealand and suggested we go for a jaunt in the Bali Sea (Indonesian: Laut Bali). If I’m being honest, I was up for it, but a tad nervous. A bad experience a few years earlier in the Dominican Republic had me worried that I’d experience the same pain in my ears – thanks to some surly and impatient instructor who wouldn’t wait for me to equalise. But you might have guessed I was pleasantly surprised this time.
That dive trip blew my mind. The instructor was a gem and she made me feel so calm and confident that I felt like I’d been doing this all my life. Being unqualified at that point, we couldn’t go deeper than 12m, but who cared? I saw so much life at 5m and kept looking at my boyfriend with huge happy eyes. I knew then that I wanted to do this for the rest of my life. On surfacing the instructor said: “You’re a fish. You belong in the water.”
And so I began the adventure when I got home. I started the PADI Open Water certification and spent my Friday nights in the classroom and the pool, just itching to jump into the practicals.
It was worth the wait. I completed the Open Water certification on the world’s second largest barrier reef – off the Riviera Maya in Mexico. That’s the best ‘exam’ you’ll ever take – I saw lobster, moray eels, angelfish, parrotfish, barracuda, pufferfish, blue tang... a lot of marine life anyway. And brandishing my newly qualified status, we rushed to the dive shop to book some more trips. We were $1000 lighter in total (I’m sick of beans on toast now) but how often are you in Mexico? We just couldn’t miss out on diving a cenote – breathtaking limestone sinkholes where freshwater and saltwater meet at a foggy halocline.
The Chac Mool cenote was my first dive as a qualified Open Water diver. Bit ambitious I suppose, but I thought it’d be rude not to. I know how lucky I was to see this – not just because it was an amazing sight and experience for anybody, but it was unforgettable as far as dive experiences go too. The clear freshwater made you feel like you were flying and navigating your way through the nooks and crannies formed by the rocks was an adventure like no other. Carefully avoiding the stunning formations of stalactites and stalagmites, it took me all my concentration not to let my regulator fall out my mouth I was gawping that much.
The day after, geed up by my other-worldly exploration, we dived the C-56 off the coast of Puerto Morelos – a wreck that had been sunk 8 years previously thanks to a donation from the US Navy. I didn’t think I could keep getting this amazing buzz, but there it was again. Diving had served me up a whole new world once more – and it was dawning on me that it would always be a blast. No wonder veteran divers still chatted like little kids at a theme park – it never stops being a total buzz! Floating through the engine rooms and passing by a fish or two as I tried to maintain as good buoyancy control as I could to squeeze through the doors had me totally hooked.
Karli diving the C-56
When I touched down in Gatwick and made the jet-lagged journey back to Leeds I was already plotting. I booked on to the Advanced Open Water course at the next dive club night with the local dive school. Cold quarries would be a bit of a change from tropical, clear waters but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.
And that’s where you enter my story. The passion and respect I feel for diving got me thinking – I love writing and do it for a living, so how about I try to write about diving? I want to be able to share my newfound love and hopefully one day, after zillions more dives and pushing the boundaries of adventure, become a respected dive journalist too. The cliché’s true – diving opens the door to a whole new world, one that few have the privilege or pleasure of. It also brings with it a deep reverence for the creatures that live in our waters and a need to help protect them. I know that I’m a changed woman for good because of it. This could be the start of a new career, a new life, a new me.
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