Ever since I entered the world of scuba diving, I’ve been cautiously observant of its less popular cousin: freediving. For those of you who don’t know, freediving involves diving underwater on a single breath, often reaching deeper depths without the aid of breathing apparatus. Unlike scuba diving, where the cardinal rule is to keep breathing, freediving hinges on the challenge of stretching one deep breath to its absolute limit. To be completely honest though, my first impressions of freediving weren’t as much rooted in curiosity as they were in complete and utter dread.
I've always embraced risks and thrived on stepping far beyond my comfort zone. From launching businesses and relocating globally to skydiving and cliff jumping, I've pursued the extreme. I'm no stranger to strapping on a scuba tank and diving to the deepest depths permitted by my training, always aiming to go deeper. Yet, the concept of freediving—descending into the deep on a single breath—unsettled me to my core. The thought of relying solely on my body's capability in such an intense way was frankly terrifying, mystifying and somehow paradoxically compelling all at the same time.
My apprehension about freediving is rooted in a longstanding sense of inadequacy as a swimmer. Despite taking swimming lessons as a child, I never really applied those skills, and over time, they faded away completely. That's why it surprised many when I took on to the calling of scuba diving in my early 30s. This new endeavor would require that I become truly comfortable in the water and hone my swimming skills to match the levels of my peers. It also quickly became apparent that many avid scuba divers are also passionate about the challenging yet graceful art of freediving.
So naturally, as I delved deeper into the scuba community, many of my newfound friends pushed me to try freediving. And for four years, I managed to avoid their peer pressure successfully. However, the more I tapped into scuba diving, the more I recognized the unique opportunities that freediving offers—often providing even better ways to experience remarkable ocean encounters and feel a deeper connection with our natural world. While my friends effortlessly duck dived around me, I clung to snorkeling, never submerging my full body beneath the surface. And unfortunately, this insistence of mine to remain at the surface level only intensified the fear of freediving within me.
Despite typically thriving in the unknown, this was different—I had no trust in myself, no confidence in my abilities, and was shying away from the "great unknown." This limiting belief felt all too real and starkly contrasted with my usual adventurous spirit and “can-do” attitude. That in and of itself was crippling and confusing.
By 2021, I grew tired of watching from the sidelines as my friends surfaced from their freedives, sharing tales of encounters with whale sharks, manta rays, and other dreamlike scenarios. Their jubilance seemed to mark some of the best days of their lives, and I yearned to share in that joy both individually and alongside them. Motivated by this desire, I remember audibly saying out loud, "screw it, let’s do it," and set off for the Gili Islands in Indonesia to learn how to freedive.
Despite struggling through the course—hardly passing and reaching a depth of 12 meters while battling sea sickness and nerves—I completed my Level 1 course. The word "hardly" certainly captures the essence of this challenge, but the accomplishment alone was enough for me in the moment. I even invested in a pair of freediving fins and a weight belt, though, admittedly, they ended up gathering dust in my closet.
Flash forward to 2024, nearly a year into the Edges of Earth expedition, and I still hadn't attempted to freedive—not even once. In Japan, while immersed in the world of the legendary Ama divers, I found myself watching from the surface as the team dove deep to assist these women in collecting sea urchins. Devastated by my lack of confidence to join them underwater, I could only try to appreciate the experience from afar. Similarly, in the Maldives, while everyone eagerly jumped in to swim with mantas, I stayed on the boat, too hesitant to enter the water without the security of my scuba tanks.
But when it came time to choose partners for our expedition's Central America leg, I connected with Freediving Nicaragua through the SSI network. I was unsure of what to expect for this partnership, but I was certain about one thing: I was immediately captivated by Thomas Dédès, the Co-Founder of the freedive center, from our very first Zoom meeting. Even through the screen, Thomas exuded a trustworthiness and expertise that convinced me he was the right person to dive with.
Beyond his proficiency, he was organizing one of Nicaragua's first freediving competitions, an event where locals would attempt to set national records. It seemed like fate was pointing us directly to join this burgeoning freediving community. With all signs leading us to the volcanic Laguna De Apoyo, our expedition team was set to dive deep into the world of freediving, guided by Thomas' one-of-a-kind perspective from this remote corner of the world.
I was tired of missing out, time and time again, and my talks with Thomas had felt like just the push I needed. Paired with the serendipity of the upcoming freediving competition, I decided once more to adopt the mantra, “screw it, let’s do it,” but this time with a renewed and empowered perspective. I resolved to get in the water, train with the pros, and give freediving my utmost effort, no matter what. Sitting on the sidelines was no longer an option; I was determined to put the fears aside.
The first day was all about the competition. We witnessed Nicaraguans excelling in their specialties, from free immersion to constant weight freediving. Watching these enthusiasts, all relatively new to the sport, embrace each challenge with passion was the definition of inspiring. Under the careful guidance of Thomas and his team of instructors, they were clearly thriving. Their joy and excitement were evident as they surfaced from depths between 20 to 50 meters. And more than anything, the enthusiasm was contagious, fueling a sense of anticipation within me.
Day two marked MY turn to dive into the serene, 30-degree Celsius freshwater of the volcanic lagoon—conditions that are ideal for learning freediving. The lagoon offered a distraction-free environment: no boats, currents, saltwater, or marine creatures. It was just you, the instructor, fellow divers and 175 meters of depth, leaving no room for excuses.
Despite being absolutely terrified, I joined the team out on the lagoon. While everyone else was buzzing with excitement and talking about reaching new personal bests, my sole hope was to come up without a chest full of water. I openly shared my fears with the group, and Thomas did something I hadn’t quite expected. He treated me like the rest. There was no coddling, and there was no putting my nerves at ease. He engaged with me no differently than any of the other divers in the group. And to my surprise, this approach worked. It made me feel integrated with the group as opposed to ostracized, or like a “lesser” diver than the rest. His calm and minimalistic approach was reassuring, affirming that fear is both normal and healthy in this sport—a vital component that keeps divers safe.
I was the last one to dive, managing only about 5 meters on each attempt, feeling increasingly uncomfortable and scared. However, after each dive, I received in-depth coaching during the surface intervals. Despite my struggles, after about ten attempts and spending over an hour in the water, we concluded day two. I returned to our accommodation overlooking the lagoon, while the rest of the team excitedly discussed their achievements. Alone, I sat gazing out at the tranquil crater below, entering a sort of trance as I gazed out onto the lagoon’s uniform surface. As I thought about day 3 of my freediving trials, I knew one thing for sure: there was no more room for holding back. I needed to let go of my scarcity mindset, and give it everything I'd got.
So on that final day in the water, I began to meditate, relaxing my body and clearing my mind of negative thoughts. Instead, I filled my consciousness with the inspiring stories of Nicaraguan national freediving record holders and visualized their faces encouraging me. I thought of songs that I always loved and the possibility of witnessing something extraordinary at depth. I also focused on Thomas’ breathing techniques and advice from the day prior. Before I knew it, I reached 15 meters. By day four, I had increased to 18 meters, and by day five, I was consistently diving between 20 and 23 meters. On the last day, I achieved a personal best of 26.5 meters and surfaced with a desire to go even deeper.
It’s well understood that overcoming fear requires confronting it directly and recognizing that consistent practice can diminish these daunting feelings. Professional surfers often explain how they tackle increasingly larger waves: by gradually building up their experiences and reinforcing their belief in their own skills and capabilities. And the approach to freediving couldn’t be more similar. By surrounding yourself with supportive, empathetic, and patient individuals who are willing to share their knowledge, and by actively engaging in the practice at your own pace, you can unlock a profoundly transformative experience. If you choose to remain on the sidelines, you'll always be left wondering what experiences you might have missed. For me, that’s simply never an option.
If you're hesitant, scared of diving in, or wanting to step out of your comfort zone to boost your overall confidence, consider booking a trip to remote Nicaragua now! While you might not become the next Santos Alexander Espinoza Pavone—the first Nicaraguan to reach 50 meters in free immersion as of 2024—you could certainly discover a new perspective on the world. Even if it’s just for a moment, I assure you, the rush is well worth it.
As we continue to explore Central America consciously, I now find myself connecting with every freediving team along both the Pacific and Caribbean coasts. Our plans are evolving, doors are opening, and a new passion has emerged from deep within. To the Freediving Nicaragua team, the newly acclaimed local legends of freediving, and Thomas: I extend my deepest gratitude. You've opened a new chapter for me, helping achieve a personal milestone that stands as one of my greatest accomplishments. Considering my journey and the effort to reach this level of comfort in the water, the word “thanks” will simply never be enough.
To be continued …
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