"Okay, get dressed, into the water."
...
The wetsuit was highly elastic and snug once worn; clothing had to be worn underneath, either a stingray suit or swimsuit and trunks, comfortable and light to prevent any embarrassing exposure.
They weren’t particular about it; they just wore physical fitness shorts, pulled on their wet suits, put on their gear, opened the oxygen, grabbed the diving lamps, gestured an "OK" to each other, and then they entered the water.
Each reached the side of a kayak, tied a long safety rope to it, then looped the safety rope around their waists and began live bait rescue.
Within just one minute, Fang Huai realized that it wouldn’t be so easy.
Dragging a body out of the river was not the sa as snorkeling by the sea.
Fang Huai had only tried to descend five or six ters when the water surface above beca blurry; looking up from underwater it seed very dim, and felt incredibly distant.
The only sounds were the bubbling and his own breathing, making him feel just two words: isolated.
Those from Southwest Guizhou Special Services who could dive to the bottom with their bare hands probably did so by not thinking about anything, taking a deep breath, and plunging down to then blindly grope around them.
He tested the deep-diving yellow light lamp and imdiately, the surrounding mystery shattered, revealing visible particles.
Fang Huai resurfaced to regain his sense of direction. Then, after conducting Valsalva’s Maneuver for ear pressure balance, he dove again to officially start the search.
As he descended about ten ters, he already felt the pressure and again raised his hand to pinch his nose, moved his throat, and perford Valsalva’s Maneuver, holding his breath.
Maintaining body pressure was critical. There were many techniques; as one descends to depths below twenty ters, the lungs compress from the size of a balloon to the size of a lemon, requiring constant adjustnt of body posture.
Descent couldn’t be too fast, the body needed to adapt to the pressure, and the sa was true for ascending, to avoid decompression sickness.
Moreover, it was important to control his breathing.
During the descent, a simple runny nose could block the air passage, upsetting the breathing balance. If one tried to inhale forcefully, air could get trapped in the head and upon resurfacing, the decreased pressure and sudden increase in air volu would have nowhere to escape, potentially bursting from the forehead and causing brain damage.
Scuba diving might seem simple with an oxygen supply, but without proper training, the pressure could affect the internal body environnt. If one couldn’t manage the pressure, deep diving was akin to gambling with fate.
Of course, with protection, death was unlikely, but it was very easy to end up with so sort of long-lasting issues.
The river was teeming with fish, and reaching this area, it felt like an intrusion into their territory.
Even with the light on, it wasn’t possible to see clearly a few ters ahead.
In fact, Fang Huai felt a little uneasy, cautiously moving his hands in a small range, fearing that he might encounter sothing strange.
Below Qiandao Lake, there’s an entire city, with many ancient relics, and even burial sites subrged beneath the water; these naturally ford deepwater rivers might truly contain so shocking hidden items.
Recovering bodies was one thing, but modern or ancient, it still made a difference.
Even if it were a living creature, like a snapping turtle, a bite would hurt. Fang Huai had no desire to catch one with his fingers.
Luckily, he only passed a few tilapias and soon reached the bottom.
He waved his light around.
The surroundings were far from pretty; the riverbed was completely covered with shattered stones.
Just as he adjusted his posture to stand at the bottom, he felt sothing twist his ankle.
Upon closer inspection, Fang Huai’s eyes widened in shock.
It was round.
No, it was ridged!
Definitely sothing odd!
He quickly shone his light on it.
Damn it, a wine bottle opener.
Fang Huai cursed inwardly, imdiately losing interest in observing and quickly surveyed his surroundings instead.
Down below, he could feel the current gently pushing him; although easy to overco, this was a dangerous sign. He had to occasionally swim in the opposite direction to avoid being swept downstream.
All along the way, there were truly a ridiculous amount of "treasures."
A large fishing net had beco a habitat for schools of fish.
An ancient Motorola cell phone, a cheap bracelet, and plastic bags with remnants of rotten food made Fang Huai frown.
Without having surfaced to pinpoint locations, the search was sowhat aimless.
Feeling his body unburdened by the pressure of the water, Fang Huai grew bolder and continued venturing deeper.
Not knowing how far he had swum, he suddenly sensed sothing amiss.
The pushing force of the water seed to change direction.
No, it was a suction force.
A whirlpool?
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