Why?

Rebreathers aren’t exactly an impulse buy, but they don’t quite require the same deep pockets as a super car. So, you could actually own one if you put your mind and piggy bank pennies into it. They do come with the same sort of built-in bragging rights and can still gather a crowd on a beach. However, the glitz factor shouldn’t be the only reason for getting one—there are easier routes to impressing members of the opposite sex.

Hearing

Another major reason why I have a richer diving experience on my rebreather is that I can hear better—no noisy breathing apparatus or bubbles— and so, can more keenly sense what is going on around me, even when I do see it directly. I have a much more acute sense of the three-dimensional space around me and what is in it. But let me get back to that later.

During the start-up sequence, the breathing loop is filled with 100% oxygen to calibrate the sensors, so we have to observe that the oxygen partial pressure drops down from 1 bar to stabilise at 0.70 bar partial pressure, which we have chosen as our low set point.

This is the oxygen level with which we start the dive. Any wrong or erratic behaviour of the oxygen sensors will show in the readings or produce an outright error-message, of which you must strive to find the cause and correct before you can dive.

Why? Because everybody knows that CCR Solo diving is the most stupid thing to do on Earth after driving a motorbike eyes closed in Bangkok or throwing sand on Mike Tyson’s face during his nap. We all know that.

 

Even the stats show that most of the rebreather fatalities that occurred in the past few years involved CCR divers diving on their own.

Unfortunately, a poll amongst the rebreather diver community shown that only less than eight percent of the rebreather divers who participated in the poll never did a solo dive.

Unfortunately even some experienced rebreather divers are not comfortable and efficient with their rig. Their equipment is a mess and you hardly see their face underneath 200 hoses, straps and D-rings.  

They swim as gracefully as a grasshopper with a portable fridge strapped on its back and a vacuum cleaner around its head. When asked the reason why they struggle for most of time they spent underwater, most of them finally agree that their trim sucks!

And then you have this fancy and expensive dive computer full of features you cannot use because they are designed for divers with little in common with you, using state-of-the-art and highly complex equipment on their back and breathing esoteric mixes coming from remote planets.

Just think about how strenuous a technical dive could be and how it impacts your body. You carry tons of tanks, cases, bags and equipment, travel for hours in an uncomfortable position, gear up with a dry suit under a tropical sun, and wait long minutes before being able to jump in the water.

There used to be a time when there was no safety margin in any activity that the human being wanted to participate in. In a merciless prehistoric world, on a daily basis, the cave men were hunting with stones and sticks, a large variety of predators the size of a truck, expecting to feed a hungry family. Then, Winchester gave men the ability to kill wild animals while staying at a comfortable distance, without risking their lives. Safety margin was born.