Returning to the Water: My Journey Back to Diving

By Rick Chapman — August 17th, 2025

The ocean has always been my sanctuary. When I first became a scuba instructor, it wasn’t just about teaching others to dive—it was about sharing the feeling of freedom that only the ocean can give. Diving felt like flying, like stepping into another world where gravity didn’t matter, and everything moved to the rhythm of the waves.

A diver floating calmly underwater in clear blue water.

The last time I went diving was in 2012, off the coast of Marathon, Florida. Life had pulled me back to the Midwest, far from the turquoise waters I loved. Diving became less frequent until it stopped altogether.

I thought I’d get back to it when the time was right.

But when I returned to Florida in 2021, ready to finally take that long-overdue plunge, something felt… wrong. My legs didn’t feel right, my balance was off, and fear crept in. I didn’t know it yet, but the symptoms of the injury that would partially paralyse my legs had already begun.

That day, I didn’t dive.

Accepting What I’d Lost

Once my injury became reality, the ocean felt even further away. Diving—the thing that had once defined freedom for me—now felt impossible. With decreased sensation in my legs, I feared I wouldn’t be able to dive safely, to respond to emergencies, or even manage the gear underwater.

The ocean didn’t reject me—I rejected myself.

I told myself diving was over for me.

A man in a wheelchair preparing adaptive water equipment on a dock.

The Goal: Home Waters

But the ocean has a way of calling you back.

I’ve made it my goal to return to the water—and not just anywhere, but home. Bermuda has some of the clearest, calmest waters I can imagine, and those reefs are where I first fell in love with the sea.

A sea turtle swimming over the sandy ocean floor.

I don’t know how I’ll feel when I first put on the equipment again. I know I’ll be nervous—worried that my fears will become reality. But more than that, I want to know that this part of my life isn’t gone forever.

Why It Matters

Getting back underwater isn’t just about diving—it’s about proving to myself that life hasn’t ended.

Returning to the ocean will mean I can still do what I love. It will be the proof that the injury that changed my life hasn’t taken everything from me.

And more than that, I want to share that message with anyone else who has faced something similar: losing part of yourself doesn’t mean you’ve lost everything.

A diver underwater using a yellow diver propulsion vehicle.

My Next Steps

Adaptive diving exists—and as I work toward returning to the water, I plan to share what I learn about training, equipment, and techniques for divers with limited mobility.

I don’t know exactly when I’ll make that first dive back. But I know where—Bermuda—and I know why—because that first breath underwater will mean everything.

Have you or someone you know returned to an activity after an injury or life change? I’d love to hear your stories—because sometimes the hardest part isn’t getting back out there. It’s believing you can.