Cave
My Journey Into Sidemount Rebreathers
With a growing number of users making the transition, sidemount rebreathers are the “New New Thing” in diving technology, especially in cave country. Here, award-winning underwater cameraman/photographer Becky Schott, who is also a rebreather and tech diving instructor, explains her motivation and experience finding the right tool for the right job!
By Becky Kagan Schott
When I began diving twenty-five years ago I heard the phrase, “A good diver is always learning,” and in many ways I’ve lived by that motto throughout my entire diving career. I’ve been humbled underwater, and I’ve had days when all of my training and years of experience have come together, allowing me to create inspiring imagery with my camera. I wouldn’t be able to do that without experience and the thirst for knowledge. Leave your ego out of it. I mean, we all have one, but the environment doesn’t care if we are male, female, black, white, young, or old, so your ego won’t help you much, but being humble will. I practice skills frequently. I teach others to stay sharp and pass along my knowledge and most of all, even as an accomplished tech instructor, I am always finding new techniques and trying new things. I still take classes and seek mentorship from more experienced divers. I am always learning.
A few years ago while shooting a cave exploration documentary in the Abaco Islands in the Bahamas with Brian Kakuk and Brett Hemphill, I found myself back on open-circuit sidemount, although I prefer to be on closed-circuit rebreather (CCR). We had several stages, and I pushed a large Red Epic Camera along with me. I find open-circuit sidemount to be the most difficult configuration for me to film in. Constantly checking gauges, changing regulators, and moving tanks around, while trying to keep the camera steady and focus on the environment around me, as well as simultaneously directing a team of divers, is challenging. I’ve always enjoyed diving sidemount, and after that shoot I had a handful of other projects that required yet more sidemount diving.
I’ve always felt there is no reason to move on until you have a need to, and after twelve years on backmount CCR, I finally found I needed another tool, a sidemount rebreather. I began a yearlong process of looking at different units, demo’ing some, and talking to explorers and people way more experienced than I in sidemount CCR. For over a decade, one of my best dive buddies, Evan Kovacs, dived a Prism Topaz sidemount unit, and several other dive buddies use them, so I wasn’t that unfamiliar with them. I had a list of options that were important to me, and I began to talk to manufacturers and to watch as more divers started making the transition.
In the end, I chose the Divesoft Liberty sidemount unit because I liked that it is neutrally buoyant and can be clipped off, just like a traditional sidemount bottle with no fuss. It has both onboard diluent and oxygen (O2) cylinders, a water trap in the counterlung that sits up high against your chest, a 5.5 lb radial scrubber (short), and its clean design with the Manual Addition Valves (MAV) running up the loop to the Diver Supply Value (DSV) (i.e., mouthpiece), which makes adding diluent or O2 manually very easy. This is a clean design, and while I’m shooting I’m not fumbling around looking for any MAVs. There is also an Auto Diluent Valve (ADV) that can be activated by just breathing, if you’re in a head-down position or if you need more loop volume. I found that to be really nice for descents. The unit has sophisticated electronics that some divers may like or dislike.
I thought it might be overwhelming, but a lot of thought has gone into everything on this rebreather. I like the built-in checklist and the ability to make a lot of personal adjustments in the menu system. The calibration is easy, and the unit walks you through predive checks, including positive and negative checks, even showing millibars of pressure. I also like that it’s sold ready to dive with little tinkering. Travel is important to me, and the unit is just 50 lbs/23 kg in a pelican case (minus tanks). Lastly, it has several modes that include CCR, manual CCR (mCCR), and a bailout rebreather mode that I may use down the road.
Putting It to the Test
I was nervous about how I’d feel on a sidemount rebreather after years of diving various backmount units. I put the DSV in my mouth and opened it up—at first a little awkward because I was standing on the steps at Ginnie Springs. I went horizontal in the water and descended into the basin. I immediately felt comfortable and made a few small adjustments, like moving the unit to a D-ring further back and adjusting the loop hoses into a more comfortable place under my arm. I couldn’t believe how well it breathed and the ease of activating the ADV or manually adding gas using the MAVs.
After becoming certified on it, I spent another 15 hours practicing skills in open water and then another 20 hours in the first 500 ft/152 m of Devil’s Cave system, just practicing and getting used to the idiosyncrasies of the unit and pulling random drills on myself. Changing set points is easy; I like the vibrating to give you alerts, and the Heads Up Display (HUD) and buddy light are easily seen. I took a camera, and it felt really natural to me. I had fun learning this new tool and gliding through the cave, and it felt really streamlined and clean. It was actually the most comfortable I’ve ever felt in sidemount. I used it with my Hollis Katana harness, and everything trimmed out nicely and felt comfortable in the water.
In my opinion, a sidemount rebreather is an incredible tool, but it doesn’t replace a backmount unit. It’s a tool for a specific environment or purpose. Like any rebreather, it’s important to put the time on it and practice your skills to become proficient.
I spent more time with it back home in Dutch Springs. That was fun, considering it was March and the water temperatures were a balmy 37 degrees Fahrenheit or 3 degrees Celsius. I had no issues with dry gloves, but everything did take me a little longer to get together in colder water, wearing thicker undergarments. I had added Shearwater transmitters and an offboard gas addition supply, since it didn’t come with any. That’s important to me, and I easily added one to the unit. I added the transmitters to clean it up because I found it difficult to read the gauges or button gauges under my arm.
A Belize cave project suddenly came up at the end of March. This is exactly the reason I wanted a sidemount rebreather and a perfect project with friends. I’d been to Giant Cave and Winter Wonderland on several past trips, so I was also somewhat familiar with the systems. I decided I wouldn’t change my configuration too much and continued to dive drysuit, but instead of a steel tank, I went with an AL 80 in the warm water since the unit is neutral.
Giant Cave is an advanced cave system that’s located off the island of Caye Caulker in Belize, and the entry is in the ocean just off a dock. It’s fascinating in many ways, but one thing that can’t be timed is when it’s siphoning or springing. It siphoned every time I entered the cave that week, making visibility less than 2 ft/0.6 m. It’s a challenge because you drop down a hole that narrows into a small fissure crack that you have to go through head down about 40 ft/12m into another open chamber before squeezing through about 100 ft/30 m of restriction that goes up and down sandhills and twists and turns.
There are also other considerations when diving a sidemount CCR, such as water traps; flooding; work of breathing; positioning; bailout planning; and how many cylinders to take and types (H valve or multiple tanks). There is a lot to consider and, as always, more to learn.
Luckily the jellyfish weren’t there this time so they weren’t siphoned in with us! I’ve done this entry almost a dozen times in the past but never in a siphon when I couldn’t see, and never on the sidemount rebreather. I knew the head-down position was going to be tough, and breathing might be hard during that time. I went for it and before getting to the bottom, in no visibility, I got tangled in the line. Inverted and unable to breathe, I signaled to my dive buddy and safety diver Anthony Tedeschi for some assistance. He was on a KISS Sidekick but he’s been diving it for over four years. He helped me out, and I caught my breath as I descended less than gracefully into the open chamber below. I caught my breath easily since the ADV activated, and I manually added diluent to get a proper loop volume. At this point, a lot of sediment was getting sucked into the cave, but we could see the line, and we slowly followed it in, passing crabs, sponges, and little coral pieces. Once through the restriction, the cave opened up into a huge room, and the visibility was clear. We had a good dive and shot some great video that day.
Exiting the cave was a similarly uncomfortable experience, as now I had to go vertical again, but in a head-up position where all the gas wanted to push its way out of my mouth. It’s a different feeling, trying to hold it in and only let out little bits. If you let out too much, you’ll drain the counterlung. The head-up and head-down positions are the biggest things to get used to. Going slightly head up or down is no problem, but being vertical is more challenging.
Each day the entry and exit became easier as I committed to the entry and just went without hesitating. Once inside the huge, clear cave system, I could easily stay in horizontal trim, which is where the sidemount rebreather performs best.
Final Thoughts
I’m so happy I took the Liberty with me to Belize for this project. It’s probably the most challenging cave I’ll ever take it to, and it was a great tool for this particular shoot. We dived for a few hours each day, and I’d usually have only a few tablespoons of water in the counterlung and nothing in the canister. After a week in two different sea caves, both sidemount entrances, I was very happy to have gained experience that was totally different than my dives in the Florida caves on the unit. My plan is to continue to gain hours on it, in all types of environments, so that when opportunities arise, I’m ready and more confident. It’s important to me to have the tools that can help me do my job as an underwater image maker and be safe while doing it. I’m looking forward to putting more time on the sidemount CCR and taking it to some awesome locations this year. So far it’s been a fun new journey practicing, and enjoying silent sidemounting.
DIVE DEEPER
InDEPTH: Picturing History by Becky Sagan Schott (2022)
InDEPTH: Bringing Shipwrecks to Life by Becky Kagan Schott (2023)
Becky is a five-time Emmy award-winning underwater cameraman and photographer whose work appears on major networks including National Geographic, Discovery Channel and Red Bull. She specializes in capturing images in extreme underwater environments including caves, under ice, and deep shipwrecks. Her projects have taken her all over the world from the Arctic to the Antarctic and many exciting locations in between, filming new wreck discoveries to cave exploration and even diving cage-less with great white sharks. Her biggest passion is shooting haunting images of deep shipwrecks in the Great Lakes. Becky is a frequent contributor to numerous dive magazines, both US-based and international, and her photography has been used in books, museums, and advertising. She is also a technical diving instructor and leads expeditions all over the planet. www.LiquidProductions.com www.MegDiver.com
Cave
Madagascar Madness
Earlier this summer Jake Bulman and the Protec Team launched their 2023 expedition to Madagascar’s formidable Malazamanga cave known for massive tunnels, formations the size of buildings, and its unbelievable cobalt blue water. They then journeyed to Anjanamba, which despite enormous passageways, consistently turned into tight, restrictive spaces before opening up again. Having appeased the cave spirits and returned safely, Bulman offered up this account.
by Jake Bulman. Photos by Phillip Lehman. Lead image: (L2R) Jake Bulman, Patrick Widmann and Ryan Dart motoring through the first mega-room after Ryan’s Chamber, Malazamanga.
Deals made. Plans Laid
As I sat in the Paris airport working on my computer, Patrick Widman gestured to me to remove my headphones. He and Phillip Lehmann sat across from me and asked if I wanted to make a deal. Assuming I was walking into some kind of joke, I replied with a hesitant “Sure.” “Next summer you come with us to Madagascar, if you…“ “Yes! Deal, ” I answered before he finished explaining my end of the deal. It didn’t matter, the answer was yes. Patrick finished laying out his already agreed deal, headphones went back in and everybody went back to what they were doing, except for my thoughts, which went to “Holy Shit! I’m going exploring in Madagascar!”
Now nearly a year later in June 2023, we were back in Paris, this time packing all of the bags for the flight to Antananarivo (“Tana”), Madagascar’s capital city. When we got there we met up with Tsoa, who is the local contact, translator, organizer, and overall critical part of the team. Our bags headed to Toliara with the drivers while we spent the day doing some errands.
The next day was important to me, not because i turned 30, but it marked the end of a bet Patrick and I made in 2020, for which I had now won $100. The victory was short lived, however, as I spent that day stuck in my hotel room violently sick. Welcome to Madagascar!
After a short flight, overnight in Toliara, then an hour long boat ride along the coast, we reached Anakao Ocean Lodge. This place is a bit of a shock to the senses after traveling through the poverty stricken cities. Luxury in the middle of nowhere; it would be our basecamp for the trip. As Patrick and I posted a photo of the place, Phillip sarcastically mourned the loss of any “hardcore expedition” image people would imagine.
The next day we planned to meet up with the National Parks’ representatives, organize porters, transport all the equipment to the site, then get in the water and place all of the deco tanks and scooters we would need, and finally be out by dark to avoid being stranded overnight. This may seem overly ambitious, and it was, but is a good example of the overall approach of the project. Always go all in, no shortcuts or laziness, and if it was not possible in the end, no worries at all. The goal is to have fun with the group and do awesome stuff, which we always did.
”This is the most epic cave ever”
Phillip Lehmann on Malazamanga
Musing on Malazamanga
Malazamanga, a cave of indescribably massive tunnels, formations the size of buildings, and amazing blue water dominated the first part of the trip. We set up a little basecamp in the mouth of the cave, each of us with our own spaces to change, hang up our suits to dry, and change sorb each day. The entrance swim is a tediously frustrating one for rebreather divers: 20 minutes of low ceilings, bouncing from 20 m to 5 m/66 ft to 16 ft and back several times, never allowing space to sit “in trim”, and no flow to remove any of the inevitable silt that came from passing with multiple scooters, stages and divers.
However, once you reach Ryan’s Chamber, the first big room, you find a staging spot for leaving scooters and tanks for the following day, and a small tunnel leading to the real, intimidatingly massive, Malazamanga.
Patrick and I went to the deep section right away (45-50 m/138 to 164 ft) and spent three days trying to find the way on, while Phillip and Ryan Dart looked around the shallower parts of the cave (20-30 m/66-100 ft) for any leads that had not been checked. Patrick laid line while I surveyed behind him through a wide but low space that became swirling silt and clay by the third tie off. We reached a vertical shaft, Patrick asked me to hold and ran a line into a smaller tunnel below us that led to a restriction. In spaces like this where zero visibility is guaranteed, diver two will be pushing through restrictions blind, having no idea the shape or size of the space around them, which is a recipe for disaster, so I waited on the line for Patrick to return and started a timer.
As fifteen minutes showed on the timer, it started to feel like a long time. How long do I wait before doing something? Five more minutes rolled by, and my mind started to run… What if he has a problem? Does he need help? Memories of having to get somebody out of a similar space once before came to mind. But this time it was Patrick though, if he truly needed help it would be a serious situation. I decided to give him until 30 minutes from when he left, and then I would go in (slowly). With four minutes remaining, a glow appeared before Patrick explained that “it’s tight, but it goes.” It was a long wait that meant a bunch more deco, but this could be the way on.
The next day I was tasked with pushing the End Of Line (EOL) while he and Phillip looked elsewhere. After twisting, turning, removing tanks, and wondering if this was a good idea more than a few times, I pushed through a few ups and downs, but the cave unfortunately ended in a basement section at 52 m/170 ft. No going leads. Time to head home.
Breakthrough and Packing Techniques
Our daily routine started at 06:30 with a breakfast of bread, fruit, eggs, tea and espresso. We’d leave the garage at 07:00, meet the porters at the bottom of the hill in the national park and send the equipment with them. Phil would then educate us on the risks of breakthrough, importance of proper packing techniques, and the impact of dwell time. All of which are critical to making espresso.
After making espresso, the handpresso is put away, we hike the 30 minutes up the hill, get dressed, dive four to six hours, then head home. Back at the garage by 08:00 pm, fill tanks for an hour, eat dinner at 09:00 pm, and then sleep. All the while making jokes, sharing stories, talking about life, trying to blind each other with lights, and being shown the same photo of Rosie, Phillip’s pit bull, with a “look at this awesome photo” preceding the photo display by a few seconds.
All in all, going diving required some effort, not to mention the week of traveling with piles of luggage to get there, the week to get home, and all of the time spent organizing beforehand. In terms of “cost (time/money/effort) per hour underwater” it is some of the most expensive time I’ve ever spent underwater.
One day, after a significant amount of problem solving in the hot, muddy entrance tunnel of the cave, we finally got everything sorted and started doing checks. Halfway through, Phillip said, “I’m not into this. You guys go. Nobody is paying me to do this,” and started to remove his tanks. Considering the “cost per hour underwater,” I think many of us would go whether we wanted to or not, giving in to a sunk cost fallacy-like sense of commitment.
We reformed a plan for the two of us, a few angry birds levels were completed on the surface, and everybody went home excited to see the survey data. There is a lesson to be had here for many of us, about what is actually important and ignoring those perceived, often self-induced pressures to carry on even if it doesn’t actually make sense.
We scoured every corner of the section we were in, until a hole underneath a formation showed a large room on the other side. I tied in at ~40 m/~130 ft, headed down the slope to where floor met wall, removed my tank, locked the reel, threw it through the hole, and headed in. Once my torso passed the squeeze, still inverted in the water, I put my tank back on, grabbed the reel, and swam the direction that I remembered it went. I passed the cloud and made a tie off. Turn, tie off, into a bedding plane, tie off, big room, tie off, and stop.
The floor suddenly featured huge, wavy marks that everybody recognizes as signs of flow. A lot of it. Massive clay bricks fit together like tiles in the riverbed resembling floor. A promising development, I tied off and ducked my head under the lip of the ceiling. Instantly the ceiling met the clay bed and the cave ended. Water unfortunately doesn’t consider human size in its choice of direction. Back to the drawing board.
“Fuck it, let’s just see what happens”
Patrick Widmann
To Breathe or Not To Breathe
At the time, the furthest reaches of Malazamanga was an enormous collapse with no way beyond it except a few air domes. We were aware the air domes may not be breathable, but lacked a proper analyzer for that. After some thought, Patrick decided that we would just give it a go one at a time. We surfaced and knelt close together as Patrick closed his DSV and took a short breath of the gas. Wearing an expression resembling somebody tasting less-than-appetizing looking food he took a second breath.
Watching intently, I saw the expression quickly change from hesitant but ok, to uncomfortable to concerned as he put his DSV back in and opened it. I was ready for him to pass out as we sat there breathing, but nothing happened. We knew it was likely not breathable, but I wanted to see what it felt like! I removed my DSV and took a breath. A humid, thick, shockingly hot breath filled my lungs and I was not going to take a second one. No way that was safe, I thought, as the burning in my lungs slowly faded.
Patrick climbed out with just his rebreather (and flowing oxygen) and took a quick look around, but no luck. As he was getting dressed again, I popped my head into a few holes and found a passage that looked to slope downwards on the other side of a tight squeeze. I ran a line in with Patrick behind me, and tried to push through but couldn’t fit. After removing myself and the cloud of unavoidable silt surrounded us, I grabbed the rock that was in the way and flipped it over. If you have ever moved a big rock in a collapse, in a never-before-dived cave, you can imagine the visibility afterwards. We backed out, went to check a few other places, then returned hoping for slightly better visibility.
Patrick was the next one in, leaving a tank on the line with me this time, and he extended the line down the slope on the other side. I heard rocks falling, tanks banging on rock, grunting, laughing, bubbles moving along the ceiling, and then he returned with his hands shaking like crazy. Whatever was over there, was not for the faint of heart it seemed. After a bit of cooling down, he went back into the cloud, which was followed by loud yelling. Excited yelling. We exited, and planned our return for the next day. What lay beyond the 6 m/20 ft deep, vertical, awkward, tank-off restriction was an open space that continued downwards to what appeared to be 40 m+.
The next day, I was going through first. We rehearsed the shape of the restriction and the series of movements needed for passing it on the surface. It was weaving through the space where collapsed boulders met the sloping ceiling, and any extra force on the wiggling rocks meant possible collapse. The plan was for me to pass, tie into the EOL, and head off. Patrick would pass behind me with the MNemo and survey in. Adding tie off after tie off, I headed deeper, then flattened out, then up through an opening to my right. Now it was my turn to yell, the cave had returned to its previous enormous size!! This celebration lasted three tie offs, as we climbed yet another collapse that was quite clearly the end. Cut line, put reel away, look around knowing that nobody will ever be here again, and head home.
On to Anjanamba
Several options lay ahead of us, which Patrick and Phil weighed over dinner. Continue searching in Malazamanga, or get the filming done then head north to Anjanamba, or spend the next two weeks surfing. The last option was apparently way more valid than the joking suggestion I had taken it as. Fortunately, the second option was the choice. We spent a day scootering around with lights in hand and on the DPVs. Screen grabs of the video were used as photos for this article.
We also had two surfing days, where I (having never surfed before) mostly tried to not get annihilated by the waves. My second goal was “not to kill anybody” as Patrick and Phillip repetitively warned me not to do it with my oversized board (only a stand up paddle board was available). Fortunately I’m a very strong swimmer, as I spent large chunks of time crashing and burning, then being tossed around by the ocean.
”This is the most epic cave ever”
Phillip Lehmann on Anjanamba
Heading up to Anjanamba featured a boat ride, a seven hour drive that resembled one of those truck commercials trying to show how tough its product is, and a journey through the Mikea National Park which had no paved road either. During lunch break everybody commented how much better it is now than it was several years ago, describing it as “pretty smooth” and “less violent” in the same sentence.
We visited the local village, where residents are the spiritual keepers of Anjanamba, to talk to the chief and say hi to a friend of Tsoa who had just had a baby. While there we got a tour of their newly built school, joked with the children a bit, took a photo and headed home. For a lifestyle that is so drastically different to our own, with so much less of everything tangible, the village seems a happy, lively place with kids running and playing. However it is easy to see the need for food, schooling, health products, and basic medical care to name a few.
Appeasing the Spirits of Anjanamba
Anjanamba is the location of the filming of the “Spirits of the Cave ” series (see DIVE DEEPER below). Described as a much more dendritic, Mexican-like cave with a blue color that puts the famous Mexican salt water tunnels to shame. The name of the series doesn’t come from nowhere; this cave is home to several spirits. In order to appease them, a few things need to be accomplished.
First, we must visit a big, double trunked baobab during the walk there. We remove our hats, gather near the meeting point of the trunks, place a pointer finger on one tree and pinky on the other (think bull horns hand shape), bow our heads and ask the spirits for two things. One, that they allow us to find an epic cave that goes. Two, that they grant us safe passage and everybody returns home safely. The ever-present, always watching lizard that lives there looked down in approval. The locals however, who had no idea what we were doing, waved us back to the path with a smile and laugh.
Once that is done, a ritual must happen with the Mikea people (in which the National Park is named after). Patrick and Phil have already been through it, so it’s just me. The chief started the ritual, as they each took a sip from a bottle of rum we had brought. Tsoa explained to me afterwards what they had been saying (asking the spirits to accept me, safe passage etc). Notably, it included nothing about finding mega cave, but we had already covered that during the lizard tree ceremony I guess.
The guys had warned me about the second part of the ritual, which had me eating a part of the cave – sand, dirt, rock, whatever. The chief continued speaking, and Tsoa told me it was time. I pinched some sand, put it in my mouth and swallowed. Phillip verified it was all gone. In the background I hear Patrick stifle a laugh, and my long-held suspicion was proven true, this was not actually part of it. The locals found it hilarious, and it wasn’t as if I was going to say no in any case. Diving time.
As usual, we were quite late and had made very ambitious plans which didn’t quite pan out. But we did as much as we could, then headed back to our new home at “Laguna Blu.” Like in Anakao, we had great food, friendly staff, beautiful views and comfortable sleeping.
Reel Bashing
Having laid less line than we had hoped in Malazamanga, we were keen to “bash some reels”. Anjanambas current EOL lay at more than 2287 meters/7500 feet with an average depth of 18m/60 ft or so. It featured enormous tunnels and decorated rooms, yet consistently turned into tight, never-quite-ending spaces before returning to vast rooms with pristine formations all over the place.
Patrick and I each carried a stage, and I carried the back up scooter. Passing through the 30 minutes of sideways swimming, weaving up and down, belly scraping, up and down cave with a negatively buoyant scooter in between my legs meant it was not always smooth sailing. Fortunately it usually got stuck when I was in the back so nobody saw. We reached the end of the line, Phillip tied in and headed off with Patrick recording and me surveying behind them.
From my POV, it looked likely to end every 10 tie offs only for the line to weave into a little corner of the room and continue, with nothing but a light dusting of silt at each tie off as signs of my team ahead of me. This repeated for another 457 meters/1500 ft of line until the reel was emptied, everybody cheered and fist bumped with excitement and then decided that we really needed to head home.
Our DPV charging plan didn’t pan out, so after each day Patrick and Phil drove over to a neighboring location and ate lunch while the scooters charged. I went back to Anjanamba and swam some of the closer lines checking for any going cave. After extending a few EOL’s, the sections had been checked without much luck. After a few days of exploring in Anjanamba, which mostly featured a repeating pattern of restrictions then big rooms, we finished our last diving day with nothing clearly going, but a few hopeful areas left.
End of the Line
As we reached the end of the trip, instead of feeling tired as we expected, we found ourselves ready for more. We had lots of sorb left, but had used every last liter of oxygen. Unfortunately, it was time to take a group photo with the locals, dry our equipment and start the journey home. Not only did we have flights to catch, but we had classes to teach less than 12 hours after landing in Mexico.
After five weeks of expedition, we had managed to get the most out of every day, be on time almost never, and explore some amazing cave. More impressively, I don’t recall a single argument or bad mood at all, which is rare when you spend 18 hours per day with the same people. Until next time, the villagers return to their normal lives, we go back to the Caribbean, and the spirits of Anjanamba can rest again.
We did have one last day before heading home, in which we would make a discovery. What will come of it is yet to be seen, but I’m sure it’s going to be a mega-epic either way. In fact, probably the most epic cave ever.
DIVE DEEPER
The Protec Team‘s past Madagascar Expeditions:
YouTube: Spirits of the Cave (2017)
YouTube: Spirits of the Cave 2 (2019)
YouTube: Spirits of the Cave 3 (2020)
Originally from Canada, Jake Bulman is a full-time cave diving and CCR instructor at Protec Dive Centers in Mexico. The last several years of teaching have been almost exclusively sidewinder focused, from try dives to CCR Cave classes, 4C to 24C, and in several countries around the world. Outside of work, he can be found on exploration projects in local caves of a wide range of depths, distances, and sizes.
Hyperbaric Chambers Are Turning Away Divers. Will There Be One Nearby When You Need It?
Los Cinco Cenotes— Exploring Upstream Ox Bel Ha
Laying Line in Cozumel
Sixty-year old Scubapro Dives into Tech (again)
Madagascar Madness
Dive Into Tik Tok
Hyperbaric Chambers Are Turning Away Divers. Will There Be One Nearby When You Need It?
Sixty-year old Scubapro Dives into Tech (again)
Are Oxygen Rebreathers Useful Tools for Tekkies and Sci-divers?
Dive Into Tik Tok
Madagascar Madness
Los Cinco Cenotes— Exploring Upstream Ox Bel Ha
