CONTACT HEATHER

heather@underthejungle.com

HEATHER QUICK STATS

• TDI Cave and Sidemount Diver
• Public Safety Diver
• From California, USA.
• Dive professional since 2017
• Languages: English, Spanish

WHY UNDER THE JUNGLE?

The short version: The nerd appeal is strong, the team is highly accomplished yet super humble, and the environment is welcoming to all.

One of the first things I noticed about Nat and Vince is they are super nerdy about what they do. They aren’t just passionate about cave diving and exploration, they’re absolute nerds about continuously optimizing how they dive, and as follows what they teach. They pay meticulous attention to the smallest details and provide clear rationale as to the “why” behind most protocols and procedures. In many cases, the “why” comes from the lessons learned through their many years of exploration. They do all this while demonstrating a level of humility that I once thought was not possible to find in a technical diving center. In doing so, they’ve created an environment that attracts divers who want to get super nerdy about diving, and who share the desire to continuously grow and evolve – no matter what level of experience or training they have.

WHY CAVE DIVING?

It’s actually kind of silly in an embarrassing way. I was pretty adamant that I would never cave dive at the beginning.

During my Open Water course in Tulum, I was absolutely horrified to learn that my instructor was a cave diver. It sounded terrifying, unsafe, and completely irresponsible to go into an underwater cave. And to do so, for fun?! Absolutely bonkers. I remember sitting in the car park contemplating asking the shop for a different instructor, because mine was clearly an adrenaline junky with a deathwish. 

After my Open Water course, I was hooked on diving. I moved to Playa del Carmen and started spending most of my time diving in the ocean. Then, one fateful day the port closed and my only option to dive was to go on a guided cavern tour of El Pit and Dos Ojos. It took a lot of convincing but eventually I agreed to have an open mind. I’m glad I did. 

During the briefing I learned about cavern diving safety, and a bit about cave divers who follow a lot of protocol to stay safe in overhead environments. This is where I started to realize I’d made some poor assumptions about what cave diving actually was like. I spent most of the first dive mesmerized by my guide, who was gliding effortlessly through the water with two tanks on her sides. Every movement was smooth, controlled, and elegant. The light beams in the Pit really added drama to the moment. I really wanted to learn to dive like her. 

Later, as we swam along the Barbie Line in Dos Ojos, I looked at the different formations (especially gour pools which remain a favorite) and tried to imagine how each of them formed and was mesmerized again. It finally dawned on me that cave divers aren’t really adrenaline junkies. They’re nerds, and I wanted to be a nerd too. 

Years later I ran into my Open Water instructor while I was guiding a cavern tour at the same cenote he taught me to dive in. He was genuinely shocked to see me diving caves and we had a laugh together. Looking back, my path to simply deciding I wanted to become a cave diver was a life lesson in the importance of curiosity and being willing to think again. 

DO YOU FEEL LIMITED BY YOUR SIZE AND GENDER?

I did at first but not anymore. Equipment can be modified to fit petite people. Strength training can help divers who can’t carry tanks build the muscles they need to do so safely. My size and gender only limit me outside the water, usually in other people’s heads, and that’s a place where the scuba industry/community can try to be better. 

The first time I got onto a dive boat in California, the captain and the dive master both looked me up and down and asked me if I was “Actually a real diver” followed by, “Hey little girl, do mommy and daddy know you’re on a dive boat with us guys tonight?,” and “Are you sure you can handle a night dive with us guys? You realize it’s dark, right?” I was in my mid-twenties, and a big joke to the crew who made rude and highly-inappropriate comments to/about me throughout the evening. Later, in the privacy of my car I burst out into tears of frustration and sadness. I knew I wanted to be in this industry, but that interaction made me question whether anyone would ever take me seriously, and even worse, whether I would be safe from inappropriate conduct in what felt like a boy’s club that didn’t want to welcome women in.

That was not the first or last time someone in the diving industry would refer to me as a “little girl” in a condescending way. It was also not the first or last time I would face sexual harassment in the dive industry. Oh, and it was definitely not the last time someone’s immature, ignorant behavior made me cry. But, I vowed to myself that it would be the last time I’d let someone else’s behavior and comments shape my opinions about myself and what I’m capable of. 

So now when someone calls me a little girl, I remind myself that little girls like me breathe less and can easily fit into places off limits to much of the population . . . and I immediately text one of the many badass petite female technical divers I have befriended along the way to laugh about it.