The problem was my vest wasnt fully inflated. Add the lead bars they attach around your waist and you're all set to become fish food. So the four of us walked to the end of the dock, flopping like ducks to the sea and jumped in..
I sank like a rock. I was desperately trying to stand on the ends of my fins, just to keep my head above the water. Mask fills up with water and my so-called scuba instructor is seen paddling away, never even stopping to look back. I just could not find a way to breath through the clumsy plastic thing in my mouth. I tried not to panic but enough was enough.
That was the total of scuba diving experience because I scrambled back to the dock and remained there for the remainder of my overpriced hour. Meanwhile Deniz and his instructor were apparently having the frolic of their lives.
The following day, his previous instructor was called away and he was fortunate enough to be coupled with my so-called instructor. He emerged about a half hour later with his eyes looking like Christopher Lee in Dracula, Prince of Darkness. He had managed to burst the blood vessels in both his eyes under 15 meters of water. We had to see an eye doctor who after an examination told Den not to scuba dive and, mysteriously, not to turn his head to the left or right suddenly. (Maybe his eyes would have been slung out of his eye sockets like to two pink yo-yos.)
Somehow we survived but, from now on, I think I will pass on any further invitations to scuba dive. My feet belong on land. Some experiences are better left in the vicarious category.