In 1990, my son turned the magic age of 12 years old. I say magic because he had been bugging me for a couple of years to let him learn how to dive. 12 years old is the youngest at which he can take a diving course. I had taken him to a few local lakes and gave him the basics, but I always told him that he would have to get certified if he wanted to keep coming out with me. Since I was an instructor, he asked if I could teach him. I told him that it was better if he went to a dive school and took it there. My fear, if I taught him, was that I would be either too easy or too hard on him. Thus, it was best to let the dive shop instructor teach him.
So, we entered him in the class and, after a month or so, he was the proud recipient of his dive certification [junior]. The first thing he wanted to do was to go diving, like dad, and
So, we entered him in the class and, after a month or so, he was the proud recipient of his dive certification [junior]. The first thing he wanted to do was to go diving, like dad, and