Mind over matter... in Koh Tao

After being on the metro, followed by a night train, a coach, a ferry and a jeep taxi (possibly breaking some kind of record in public transport taken over the course of 24 hours), our shabby beach hut seemed like a godsend. It didn’t matter that we were sharing it with a rather loud gecko. It didn’t even matter that we were on the noisiest beach in Koh Tao… nothing drowns out loud music and late-night drunken chatter like fatigue.

Koh Tao, a small island in the gulf of Thailand, is a diver’s paradise. With as many scuba centres as there are beach bars, this is one place where it seems to be okay to drink and dive. Not that we had much time for partying, because while Isma was cramming in eight scuba dives in three days, I was training to become a freediver! Before you go to google “freediving", let me clarify: it’s the art of going deep down into the sea using nothing but one single breath.

Usually unable to hold my breath for longer than half a minute, I’ve always found freediving intriguing. How a human being can use nothing but their lungs to reach the same depth as a scuba diver simply baffles me. Add to this my stormy relationship with the sea, and I knew I had to face my fears and do the Level One course.

The first class consisted of a lot of interesting science as well as breathing exercises not unlike those done in yoga. But, the most fascinating lesson of the day was that the “urge to breathe” we have when holding our breath is caused by a rise in carbon dioxide in the bloodstream as opposed to a lack of oxygen. Which means freediving is simply a mind game. I had no idea!

A series of meditation exercises in the classroom helped me to achieve a breath hold just shy of 2 minutes and 20 seconds, but it was eventually time to add water to the mix. So my instructor took me and my confidence to the swimming pool and I found I was soon able to swim for 36 metres (with the help of fins) without coming up for breath - something I thought I would never achieve. The real test, however, was yet to come… the next day I had to face the deep, blue sea.

Those who know me well will agree I have slowly learned to love the sea, and am often the first one to jump in if given the chance. But, there is nothing I fear more than being surrounded by the ocean… the thought of drowning to my death too often on my mind. I have been known to panic when snorkelling, am too petrified to go scuba diving despite struggling through an open water course some years ago and even freak out if I close my eyes for too long in the shower! So, when we were heading towards the sea, anxiety naturally started to bubble away inside me.

I concentrated on my breathing, half prolonging the dreaded anticipation, before plunging into the blue. I tried not to think about the pressure as I went deeper and deeper but the shrill voice of CO2 began to sound all too soon, making me shoot back up for air. I had been underwater for less than 30 seconds. I tried again, desperately trying to conjure up the wonderful place earlier meditation had taken me to, but at 5 metres my brain, drenched in a cloud of carbon dioxide, screamed at me to breathe. Immediately. I swam back to the safety of the surface. I repeated this little circle of madness perhaps three or four times, gradually getting deeper but never reaching the ten metre mark - the irresistible urge to breathe prematurely taking over my mind each time.

I don’t know if what came next was an act of god, a result of embarrassment or the typically British need to please others without causing a scene. I took a deep breath and descended, stubbornly ignoring CO2’s lies, allowing my mind to drift until it was in harmony with the silence of the sea, no voices, no sound -and I reached 10 metres. Needless to say, when I came back to the surface I was ecstatic.

Going down to 10 metres after this point for numerous exam exercises was even enjoyable. Breathing, or lack of, was no longer a factor; fear had evaporated from my mind and was replaced by the urge to perfect my 'flutter-kick'. And the best part was I could proudly tell Isma I was a certified freediver! What a day.

We lay on the bed of our shabby bungalow that night, shattered and dreading the trip back to Bangkok and on to Ao Wai the next day. But it didn’t even matter that we were on the noisiest beach in Koh Tao: nothing drowns out the sound of loud music like the satisfaction of overcoming a fear.

Guess what I found out in Koh Tao?

1. Facial immersion in cold water causes the human heart rate to slow down between ten and twenty-five percent. This reflex found in mammals optimises respiration to allow us to stay underwater for longer.

2. The current world record for freediving is held by Austrian freediver, Herbert Nitsch. He has reached a depth of 253 metres on a single breath, holding it for 9 minutes. Amazing!

3. Koh Tao served as a prison for about fourteen years around the time of the Second World War. All of the prisoners were given a pardon and released in 1947, although I am sure this was more of a punishment than being made to stay.