Latest news with #scubadiving
Washington Post
2 days ago
- Lifestyle
- Washington Post
In a stressful human world, ‘mermaiding' gains popularity in D.C. area
In a suburban Maryland swimming pool, amid scuba divers practicing with oxygen tanks and young children wearing floaties while holding paddle boards, more than a dozen technicolored mermaid tails glittered through the surface in the nine-foot deep end. The tails — fabric and silicone, purple and gold, some dotted with sequins or lined with seashells — swaddled the lower bodies of the swimmers, adorned with seashell crowns and necklaces, bright blue wigs and colorful streams of tinsel flowing through their hair.
Free Malaysia Today
5 days ago
- Free Malaysia Today
Diving instructor arrested for allegedly hitting, threatening tourist
The diving instructor had demanded that the Taiwanese man compensate him for his foot injury and also hit the tourist. PETALING JAYA : A scuba diving instructor has been arrested for allegedly assaulting and threatening a Taiwanese tourist in Sabah, with the incident captured on video that has gone viral. The 38-year-old suspect, a Malaysian, was arrested after the victim, 34, filed a report at the Semporna police headquarters at 10.46am yesterday, Berita Harian reported. Acting Semporna police chief Jaafar Hakim said the incident occurred on Tuesday while both of them were on a boat headed towards the waters of Pulau Timba-Timba for a scuba dive. The tourist's oxygen tank suddenly fell onto the instructor's foot, sparking an argument between the pair. 'The man sought treatment at Tawau Hospital and then returned to the tour company's premises to demand that the tourist pay him compensation. 'Another argument ensued between the two. The man then acted aggressively, hitting the tourist and threatening to further harm him,' said Jaafar. The case is being probed under Sections 323 and 506 of the Penal Code for voluntarily causing hurt and criminal intimidation.
The Guardian
7 days ago
- The Guardian
Diving for the disappeared: the dangerous underwater hunt for Colombia's missing
As scuba diver Pedro Albarracín scours the muddy seabed surrounding Skull Island, opposite the Colombian port city of Buenaventura, he invokes the protection of Yemayá, goddess of the seas, and Oshun, goddess of the rivers – deities of the Yoruba faith. The dark waters of the San Antonio estuary around him are believed to conceal the bodies of at least 190 people disappeared during Colombia's long and violent armed conflict, a struggle that gave the islet its morbid name. Before his dive, religious leaders bless Albarracín, imbuing him with spiritual protection, and remind him to call on the goddesses for guidance and safety in his search for human remains. 'This support from the religious leaders is very important to us,' says Albarracín. 'Feeling that they are supporting you and using their ancestral practices to provide you with that protection feeds your confidence. The heart that they put into the mission permeates you and gives you a little bit more courage.' The dives, which took place late last year, were part of an unprecedented exercise in Colombia. The operation marked the first time that an official, state-backed search had taken place along Buenaventura's San Antonio estuary, with the active involvement of the community. With a remarkable combination of sonar technology, rigorous forensic investigations, and anthropological work with guidance from religious leaders, local fishers and piangüeras – mangrove shellfish gatherers – the government's Search Unit for Persons Reported Missing (UBPD) aims to recover those who disappeared, as well as provide some healing to victims and the community. Buenaventura, a port city on Colombia's Pacific coast, has long been scarred by paramilitary violence. According to the UBPD, at least 940 people are considered to have disappeared in the area. The figure could be much higher. Colombia's National Movement of Victims of State Crimes believes the number of those disappeared in Buenaventura to be more than 1,300. The UBPD's search along the San Antonio estuary focused on victims who disappeared between 1989 and 2016, when the conflict officially ended, after a peace deal was signed between the Colombian government and members of the Farc rebel group. 'This [search] had not been possible before because the security conditions did not allow for it,' says María Victoria Rodríguez, the UBPD coordinator who led the operation. 'We knew what the difficulties were, that the tides wouldn't help us, that the possibility of finding something here was very complex, but it had to be done.' Most of those missing are believed to be victims of armed groups, whose methods were brutal. They reportedly dismembered victims and placed them in steel drums full of cement before dumping them in the murky waters of the estuary. They would also allegedly tie victims to the low roots of the web of mangroves that lie along the coast, and let the strong tides and wildlife do the rest. The effort in the San Antonio estuary is part of a larger push by the UBPD to locate Colombia's disappeared – a herculean task in a country where more than 120,000 people are believed to have gone missing during the armed conflict. Since beginning operations in 2018, the UBPD has recovered 2,490 bodies, with 1,239 recovered in 2024 alone. The involvement of local communities challenges the silence that for decades cloaked Buenaventura's disappearances. Many families never reported missing relatives, fearing retaliation or simply not believing the state would act. During the search, a dive team equipped with high-powered 11,000-lumen lamps to penetrate the dark waters combed the estuary, while leaders of the fishing community helped them navigate the tides. 'It is one of the most dangerous dives I have ever done and one of the most intense searches I have ever undertaken,' says Albarracín, who searched a 20-metre radius surrounding each designated point of interest. In parallel, another team ventured on to the marshy low-tide terrain, where the piangüeras – renowned for their skill in navigating the mud-bound mangroves while harvesting molluscs – combed through seven designated search corridors in the mud. There, the UBPD team quickly realised that their standard kit was useless, as the muddy terrain made heavy equipment redundant and rendered investigators and anthropologists unfamiliar with the landscape virtually immobile. Rodríguez says: 'There was no other element that we could use in this field other than the piangüeras' hands. This knowledge that isn't in textbooks, and that we ourselves don't have, allowed us to minimise errors.' Before the searches began, religious leaders carried out a spiritual reconciliation ceremony to ask the estuary for forgiveness – a symbolic act to acknowledge the pain it had absorbed as a site of body disposal. An altar was built at the UBPD's office in Buenaventura, where religious leaders remained throughout the mission, reading messages and interpreting signs, including changes in the weather, believed to be communications from their gods. Before venturing into the waters, the teams were harmonised – the UBPD scientists as well as community members who would be entering the estuary. Each received a small protective bracelet, meant to accompany them throughout their fieldwork. The waters surrounding Buenaventura are murky and dark, subject to strong currents and shifting tides. They are also heavily contaminated by the city's busy port as well as by the surrounding stilt communities, which often use the waterways to dispose of waste. As a result, no remains were found in the San Antonio estuary over the 17-day search. Since then, scuba diving efforts have been on hold. The project's future is in the hands of the Special Jurisdiction for Peace, a judicial body set up to address the legacy of the armed conflict. For the UBPD and the broader community of Buenaventura, such efforts are pivotal. 'These communities have their own spiritual relationship with the physical body,' says Adriel Ruiz, head of the Corporación Memoria y Paz, a local NGO that works alongside victims of the conflict in Buenaventura. 'Once someone disappears, it breaks these psycho-spiritual and religious dynamics and generates a social deterioration, a collective damage. Finding them is key for the community.'
The Guardian
22-07-2025
- The Guardian
Diving for the disappeared: the dangerous underwater hunt for Colombia's missing
As scuba diver Pedro Albarracín scours the muddy seabed surrounding Skull Island, opposite the Colombian port city of Buenaventura, he invokes the protection of Yemayá, goddess of the seas, and Oshun, goddess of the rivers – deities of the Yoruba faith. The dark waters of the San Antonio estuary around him are believed to conceal the bodies of at least 190 people disappeared during Colombia's long and violent armed conflict, a struggle that gave the islet its morbid name. Before his dive, religious leaders bless Albarracín, imbuing him with spiritual protection, and remind him to call on the goddesses for guidance and safety in his search for human remains. 'This support from the religious leaders is very important to us,' says Albarracín. 'Feeling that they are supporting you and using their ancestral practices to provide you with that protection feeds your confidence. The heart that they put into the mission permeates you and gives you a little bit more courage.' The dives, which took place late last year, were part of an unprecedented exercise in Colombia. The operation marked the first time that an official, state-backed search had taken place along Buenaventura's San Antonio estuary, with the active involvement of the community. With a remarkable combination of sonar technology, rigorous forensic investigations, and anthropological work with guidance from religious leaders, local fishers and piangüeras – mangrove shellfish gatherers – the government's Search Unit for Persons Reported Missing (UBPD) aims to recover those who disappeared, as well as provide some healing to victims and the community. Buenaventura, a port city on Colombia's Pacific coast, has long been scarred by paramilitary violence. According to the UBPD, at least 940 people are considered to have disappeared in the area. The figure could be much higher. Colombia's National Movement of Victims of State Crimes believes the number of those disappeared in Buenaventura to be more than 1,300. The UBPD's search along the San Antonio estuary focused on victims who disappeared between 1989 and 2016, when the conflict officially ended, after a peace deal was signed between the Colombian government and members of the Farc rebel group. 'This [search] had not been possible before because the security conditions did not allow for it,' says María Victoria Rodríguez, the UBPD coordinator who led the operation. 'We knew what the difficulties were, that the tides wouldn't help us, that the possibility of finding something here was very complex, but it had to be done.' Most of those missing are believed to be victims of armed groups, whose methods were brutal. They reportedly dismembered victims and placed them in steel drums full of cement before dumping them in the murky waters of the estuary. They would also allegedly tie victims to the low roots of the web of mangroves that lie along the coast, and let the strong tides and wildlife do the rest. The effort in the San Antonio estuary is part of a larger push by the UBPD to locate Colombia's disappeared – a herculean task in a country where more than 120,000 people are believed to have gone missing during the armed conflict. Since beginning operations in 2018, the UBPD has recovered 2,490 bodies, with 1,239 recovered in 2024 alone. The involvement of local communities challenges the silence that for decades cloaked Buenaventura's disappearances. Many families never reported missing relatives, fearing retaliation or simply not believing the state would act. During the search, a dive team equipped with high-powered 11,000-lumen lamps to penetrate the dark waters combed the estuary, while leaders of the fishing community helped them navigate the tides. 'It is one of the most dangerous dives I have ever done and one of the most intense searches I have ever undertaken,' says Albarracín, who searched a 20-metre radius surrounding each designated point of interest. In parallel, another team ventured on to the marshy low-tide terrain, where the piangüeras – renowned for their skill in navigating the mud-bound mangroves while harvesting molluscs – combed through seven designated search corridors in the mud. There, the UBPD team quickly realised that their standard kit was useless, as the muddy terrain made heavy equipment redundant and rendered investigators and anthropologists unfamiliar with the landscape virtually immobile. Rodríguez says: 'There was no other element that we could use in this field other than the piangüeras' hands. This knowledge that isn't in textbooks, and that we ourselves don't have, allowed us to minimise errors.' Before the searches began, religious leaders carried out a spiritual reconciliation ceremony to ask the estuary for forgiveness – a symbolic act to acknowledge the pain it had absorbed as a site of body disposal. An altar was built at the UBPD's office in Buenaventura, where religious leaders remained throughout the mission, reading messages and interpreting signs, including changes in the weather, believed to be communications from their gods. Before venturing into the waters, the teams were harmonised – the UBPD scientists as well as community members who would be entering the estuary. Each received a small protective bracelet, meant to accompany them throughout their fieldwork. The waters surrounding Buenaventura are murky and dark, subject to strong currents and shifting tides. They are also heavily contaminated by the city's busy port as well as by the surrounding stilt communities, which often use the waterways to dispose of waste. As a result, no remains were found in the San Antonio estuary over the 17-day search. Since then, scuba diving efforts have been on hold. The project's future is in the hands of the Special Jurisdiction for Peace, a judicial body set up to address the legacy of the armed conflict. For the UBPD and the broader community of Buenaventura, such efforts are pivotal. 'These communities have their own spiritual relationship with the physical body,' says Adriel Ruiz, head of the Corporación Memoria y Paz, a local NGO that works alongside victims of the conflict in Buenaventura. 'Once someone disappears, it breaks these psycho-spiritual and religious dynamics and generates a social deterioration, a collective damage. Finding them is key for the community.'
Telegraph
14-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Rachel Riley being eaten by a shark won't help ocean conservation
Imagine that you are scared of water, to the point where you haven't gone into the sea past your knees for 20 years. You have two children, and you'd like to swim with them on holiday. Do you a) sign up for swimming lessons at your local pool, or b) sign up for an ITV reality show in which you have to scuba dive with sharks? Shark! Celebrity Infested Waters (ITV1) is a reasonably entertaining watch, mostly because Amandaland actress Lucy Punch is in it, but the funniest thing about it is the way it pretends to be a programme about shark conservation. My concern for the world's shark populations is not going to be affected by whether or not they eat Rachel Riley from Countdown. Let's get real. The celebrities agreed to this because their agent told them they could have a lovely holiday in the Bahamas. Well, six of these celebrities have a great time: Punch, Riley, Lenny Henry, Ross Noble, Ade Adepitan and Dougie Poynter. The seventh is Helen George. The Call the Midwife actress is the one with a phobia of the sea, and either she wasn't listening when her agent explained the concept of this show or her agent sold her a doozy, because George seems to have fundamentally misunderstood the assignment. 'I genuinely thought we'd only meet sharks once in this experience,' she says, while the others look at her with pity. She has just been told, on day one, that she will be cage-diving with bull sharks. In a nice touch, the team of experts guiding them through this experience includes an Australian who only has one arm because the other one was bitten off by a bull shark in Sydney Harbour. He now dedicates his time to promoting shark conservation 'because the real danger is not an ocean with sharks, it's an ocean without them'. He doesn't expand on this, and nor does another expert who says that bull sharks are vital because they 'take care of sick animals' in the ocean, and you might expect a bit more from a programme about shark conservation. Instead, there are lots of jokes, mostly supplied by Punch and Henry. 'What am I most scared of? Well, I'm scared of a shark attack, obviously,' says Punch. 'They are savage tubes of teeth.' She is paired with Henry during the cage dive, and they're in good spirits throughout. Henry says: 'This is the realest thing I've ever seen, and I've done panto in Lewisham.' It does look frightening, even with metal bars between the humans and the sharks. George is paired with one of the experts, who thinks that the best way to calm her nerves is to say: 'Helen, you are surrounded 360 degrees by sharks! This one is MASSIVE!' The poor woman has a panic attack, and you don't blame her. It's uncomfortable to watch, but then again, she could have stayed at home.
