I was raised in Utah, lived in London for four and a half years (where I walked every single street - yep, all of them) and recently moved to Muscat, Oman where I live with a handsome Englishman I met in Nepal. Believe me, I could never have predicted any of that. Life is crazy.
Much to the shock of my younger self, I have officially become a scuba diver and love it ridiculously. Along with adventuring in Oman, the aforementioned Englishman and I are working to open a guest house and dive centre of our very own. We've got big plans and enough self-awareness to know we have no idea what we're doing...yet. But onward we go!
Oh, and I often feel compelled to undertake obscure creative projects that seem to have no connection to each other or my life in general.
Thanks for being along for the ride.
Last time on Mobilis Divers: Noelle was a few days away from short-term retirement, while Chris was breaking in our new car, packing up for our new flat and getting ready to announce his other big news.
Since we talked last, quite a lot has happened! I quit my job, packed up my life, had a quick trip to Mexico (where I went diving in eerie caves, climbed crumbling ruins and laughed heartily with great friends) and flew to London, where I have spent the last two weeks catching up with more friends, family and favourite foods.
Chris has also had some excitement in his life the last few weeks! We are finally free to share the big news I mentioned last time: he has officially been promoted to Senior Teacher, starting in January! He’s already begun doing some curriculum planning and other bigger picture duties for his new role and is genuinely loving it. He derives immense joy from designing good courses and materials for his students (nerds are the best), so it is a perfect position for him. It’s wonderfully uplifting to see him enjoying his work so much.
Although he’s been quite busy getting ready for his new job, he has managed to get in some good adventures too. Between his diving weekends and hiking days, he’s seen some gorgeous parts of the country lately. On his last trip across the channel, he saw a pod of 10 or so sperm whales and a super pod of 200+ dolphins!
He also witnessed an event (sadly without a camera) that illustrates quite clearly how life will be much different in our new home. A restaurant recently opened about a ten-minute walk from our house, and every Friday they set up a big screen on the beach while the standard, wildly colourful sunset blooms across the sand and sky. After darkness falls, everyone sits around sipping beers, watching a movie together. It all sounds desperately romantic until I receive messages like this:
Five days from now, I’ll be setting foot in this strange, beautiful, messy, hilarious, romantic, chaotic place. It will be a relief to be with Chris again and a joy and pleasure to learn what makes the country tick. It is also certain to be frustrating and irritating at times, and I may have to dodge the occasionally charging pig or skittering scorpion. It’s a real place, with some real beauty and some real complexity. Only time will tell what our lives will look like there and how we will fit into the scene. All I know is that it will be delightful to finally be figuring it all out hand in hand with my favourite adventure buddy.
Last time on Mobilis Divers:Noelle and Chris spent their holiday looking at potential new homes. Nothing felt right. They got sad. Then they got an idea…
Imagine you want to set up a dive centre. You want to be there for a while so you’ve got some expectations for it. It needs to be by the ocean – arguably the most important condition. You’d like that ocean to have some interesting stuff to look at because you’ll be in it all the time and you get bored easily. It would also be great if there are other people around, a nice variety of people from different backgrounds so you can learn new things and not be the most foreign person you know. Now paint in the details around you – lush palm forests, margaritas on the beach, bustling marketplaces, the sun setting behind a volcano. Ok, got it? Can you see it? Smell it? Feel it? Good! Now go find that place!
Unfortunately, it’s not as easy as it sounds. Despite our best attempts this summer we just could not find one that fit the bill. But when we reviewed our options and the Possibly Perfect Place began to emerge, it started to look more and more enticing. It’s got great diving, possibly some of the best in the world (fab!), just off the shores of a reasonably-sized city (exceptional bonus). It’s fairly close to more familiar types of civilization (when we need a quick escape to our cultural roots), and yet it is still pretty underdeveloped (potentially great for growing a business – though perhaps trickier in terms of infrastructure).
The more we look at The Possibly Perfect Place, the better it sounds. It really does seem to have it all and at exactly the right time for us. There would definitely be some challenges, but the potential feels undeniable. So we started thinking maybe we should spend some quality time here on our Hunt for the Perfect Place in January.
There are a couple of catches though. It’s expensive to travel long term. We’d spend quite a lot just in the time we need to properly look around – money we need to get our shop up and running. Also, and maybe more importantly, The Possibly Perfect Place is totally foreign to both of us. We literally know nothing about doing business there. We have no idea what we need to set up a company, how complicated it is, or how possible it even is. It could take months or years to figure it out. It could take a few weeks. We simply don’t know.
This is the point where I started getting edgy and freaked out. This whole plan felt uncannily familiar to me. The thing is, moving here would be the third time I’ve gone to a Possibly Perfect Place (PPP) to make my way and – spoiler alert! – it did not work out at all the way I hoped it would. In fact, it kind of wrecked me.
The first PPP: I moved to London to set up my own business. By myself. Without any form of financial support to…I don’t know…pay my rent or buy my food. Which meant I was running around like a nutter trying to simultaneously earn enough to live in one of the world’s most expensive cities and also trying to get a business off the ground. Did I mention by myself? Not sure what I was thinking. I was either very brave or very stupid. Maybe a bit of both.
It was stressful. Very stressful. It made me a crazy person.
The second PPP: In Muscat, it was supposed to be easy to land there, get a job and get my life back in order. I was so excited to have a normal existence again. But alas, that was not to be. Laws change quickly these days and I found myself blocked at every turn. Let’s get a job! Oh, I can only be a lawyer, doctor or teacher? Hmmm, ok… I guess I’ll learn to teach English?… Done! Oh, now you need me to have a Master’s in Education? Hmmmm, ok… I guess I’ll just work under the table and hope not to get deported? What’s that you say? Oil prices dropped, the economy crashed and no one can afford English classes, even from charming illegal immigrants? Hmmmmm, ok….I guess I’ll just sit at home and invent ways to keep myself busy…
It was stressful. Very stressful. It made me a crazier person.
So when we started talking about dropping into another PPP without any idea about our actual chances at making it there, I kind of melted down. I’m tapped out, guys. Running on empty. Out of gas. Burned out. And any other oil-related metaphors you can think of. This big project of ours is going to take some energy. Quite a lot of it. A level of energy I simply do not have at the moment. Energy to remain persistent and excited and unsinkable in the face of constantly changing circumstances – because the game will change as we go along. That’s just how this stuff works.
Stepping right out of Muscat and into another totally new and unknown place and attempting to start a business sounds stressful. Very stressful. I don’t want to become the craziest me yet by pushing myself even further over the edge when I haven’t yet recovered from my other failed attempts at settling in. I also don’t want to ruin our chance of building something great and making our dream come true by jumping into it when I don’t have the resources available to do it right. I need a rest – a big one – so I can start this adventure with all my wits at my disposal.
So we made a decision to take a little breather before we start this adventure, some time to chill out and get ourselves ready and rested so we can face the craziness that will ensue when we try to set up a business a world away. We decided to go back to Utah for a while – it’s where I’m from, where my friends and family are, and where I can get some work without needing a visa. It’s restful, and refreshing, and familiar, just what I need for a little bit.
I bought a ticket to come home in November – in time for Thanksgiving, of course, because my mom makes the best pumpkin pie ever (it’s sweet of you to think your mom does, but you obviously haven’t tried this one). Chris made plans to join me in the spring. We started picturing our summer of fun together: diving trips with friends in Mexico, camping excursions to Arches and Canyonlands, evenings with friends and holidays with family. I was looking forward to this time of ease, immensely.
But, like I said, the only constant in this game of life is change and making plans is the best way to tempt fate into showing you who’s really in charge.
We’re long overdue for an update. So much has changed just in the past few weeks it’s been hard even for us to keep up with.
Our original plan was this: get to the end of January in Muscat then head out to parts unknown, looking at various places where we might want to set up shop. In preparation for this, we made a list of three places we felt had good potential and planned a trip around them this summer. When we got on the ground, however, things weren’t quite how they appeared on paper.
Place Number One had the best potential. It is already connected by flights to two pretty famous diving destinations. It has some very special stuff there, including one particular fish that, out of the entire world, is only known to exist in about a 10-square-meter patch just off the shore. It’s also got a great potential for a mix of muck diving as well as reef diving and there aren’t many shops there yet. Perfect! Why isn’t everyone setting up here?!
When we spent some time here, however, we saw why this place hasn’t picked up. Between the rubbish EVERYWHERE, the odd tensions in the air and the general lack of anything else to do except diving, we just did not vibe with the place. It had a strange aura. One that the fanciest dive center there worked around by taking people completely out of the awkward surroundings and creating a total escape far from any of the villages. Not really our thing. We want to be part of the community we are working in, not trying to pretend it’s not there. So Place Number One came off our list.
Place Number Two was gorgeous. Beautiful. Stunning. Awe-inspiring. Incredible. And all the other adjectives you can think of to describe that absolutely stereotypical tropical island (replete with volcano) in the middle of the ocean. It is full of friendly people (Place Number One had a strange aggression we weren’t fond of), has a wide selection of foods (not just fried chicken from street stands), and is teeming with interesting history. It’s a truly special place and one that in moments of unbridled excitement I could happily see myself living in.
The catch here is that it is so, SO far from anything. To get there we took a Pelni boat (a unique experience if you haven’t yet been on one) that took eight hours. I don’t mind the time it takes, but the sensory overload was too much (see image below). There is a flight we could take instead, but only if the weather is good. And there is a faster boat option, but only if the weather is good. It would be one thing if the Pelni was something we’d choose to take if we had to, but due to the island’s remote location and the area’s two rainy seasons, it’s a boat we would most definitely be spending a lot of time on. Additionally, the diving was decent, but not incredible, which meant that the hassle of getting there (and getting anyone we want to visit us there) would not be worth it for what we’d see in the water. And so Place Number Two was crossed off.
I make it sound like this was just a quick flick of the wrist and another place was casually dubbed A Place That Won’t Really Work For Us. The truth is, it was far more existential than that (for me at least). I mean, our plan is to find a place to build a dive centre – a place where we want to settle for quite a few years. It’s not a quick, set-it-up-and-sell-it-off business thing for us, it’s a lifestyle. We want to become part of the community, to train up locals and create new jobs, to raise a garden full of papayas and jasmine trees. We want to stay. We want to settle. So to start with an already short list of possible places for this dream life of ours and find ourselves crossing them off one by one was… how can I put it… utterly crushing.
By the time we got to Place Number Three, I was struggling with the idea that maybe we were never going to find something that ticked all the boxes for us. I know we’ll have to make adjustments from our ideal place – perhaps we can forego the view of the sea out our front window and the volcano out the back, or maybe we can scrap the idea of our own resident whale shark who shows up when he hears the sound of our boat – but there are some things I am just not willing to live with on a regular basis for years. It was a hard realisation for me to admit to but one I think was important to be honest about now instead of two years in when it drives me crazy and I run away screaming. Still. Not easy. Not easy for me to say. Not easy for Chris to hear. Not easy for us to find our way through. There were a lot of not easy conversations at this point in the trip. Conversations I hope we’ll laugh about in the years to come when we’re nestled into our Perfect Place and can’t imagine having settled for anything less.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We were just arriving at Place Number Three.
Place Number Three is phenomenal. Not in the resplendent, idyllic, endlessly lush and tropical ways of Place Number Two, but in it’s own bizarrely sparse and martian kind of way. This place is weird. In fact, that is what it is known for. There are so many odd creatures here you’re just never going to see anywhere else. Some because this is their only habitat on earth, some because the landscape itself makes it easier to find them than any other reef would. It’s a great place. I would happily dive here every day of my life because you know you will always see something funky. Every day our log books spilled over with all the fabulous things we saw. It’s amazing. Genuinely outstanding diving.
It’s just that we got here a little too late. Had we been in a position to open a place ten years ago, we would absolutely choose this one. We both love it immensely and we will certainly go back to visit because we cannot wait to see what other weird stuff we can find. Alas, there are already seventeen (SEVENTEEN!) very established dive resorts here already. Not just casual little places with a couple huts and a rented fishing boat. Resorts. Ones with very established reputations and deeply experienced guides. We’d struggle to make a place here. It would be a very uphill battle to even get into the market and an even more uphill one to get a big enough slice of the business to make it worthwhile. *sigh* Place Number Three will live on in our hearts but we sadly cannot find a way to live on there.
And so, our Summer of Three Places ended with all three spots being struck from the record. It was a pretty down time for us. We kept looking at what it was we liked about these places and what it was we didn’t. We made lists of our criteria again and again, trying to figure out where we might be able to go that would work with all of our requirements. We got frustrated and sad and worried. Nothing seemed to fit any better than the three we had just visited. But as we kept looking into the murky waters of our dream future, a name began to emerge. Slowly, slowly it rose to the surface, bobbed around for a minute and finally settled at the top of our list: The Possibly Perfect Place…
One of the big ticket items on our Things To Do To Open Our Own Dive Centre list is: get industry experience. We’ve both been doing some guiding with our local shop, but since July, when he finished his course, Chris has been hoping to get some teaching experience under his belt.
Today, a couple of potential students reached out and are interested in booking. Woot! It is an exciting day at our house. Lesson plans are being made, learning materials are getting themselves organised and office supplies are being discussed. We’re both pretty happy about it, but Chris, in particular, is ready to get his feet wet as an instructor.
A couple of weeks from now we might be able to cross another big item off the list! Woot!!
I LOVE to plan. Like really, really, deeply, passionately LOVE to plan. Why? Because planning is so much easier than actually doing.
When I want to get fit, I make schedules, I orgainise my equipment, I buy new clothes and create little outfits to wear to yoga. Then I never go. Why? Because I planned it, man. Don’t try to convince me it’s not the same as doing. I totally envisioned myself going to the gym every morning with my new purple yoga mat under my arm. That’s pretty much the same thing as going to the gym every morning with my new purple yoga mat under my arm.
Only it’s not.
Planning is great because it makes you feel busy and productive, but it doesn’t actually involve any real work. Sure, there’s lots of pencil moving and beard stroking and tea drinking, but no matter how you look at it, it isn’t the same as getting shit done.
I am fantastic at convincing myself that planning and doing are one and the same. So good I am almost convinced it is my super power. That’s because I’m an Impostinator. I avoid actual work by doing LOTS of relatively unimportant jobs that I convince myself are urgent – more urgent than, say, doing the ONE task I know I need to be doing.
This seems to be a real thing, folks. We have looked deeply into each others and made a plan to stay in Oman for one more year and then head off into the great unknown and start our own thang.
Where do we go from here?
It seems like such a huge project: find a place we want to live, buy or build our own business (in a foreign country), settle in and make it our home and our life for the next 10, 15 or 20 years (who knows?).
And what about all the other stuff before that? Will we have enough money? What legal realities do we need to be aware of? What will we do with our kitty?
We’ve got a lot on our minds these days. And while it’s all terribly exciting, we are also a little overwhelmed.
Start this blog for real. We want to share our experiences, our ideas, our plans and our fears here, mostly as a way to get them out of our heads and onto “paper”. We’re hoping this will help us organise the project and keep us accountable for nudging things forward a little every day.
Let’s just clarify something from the beginning. I am not a photographer. That is to say, I rarely take photos (on land or in the water) that I would see as sellable or of much artistic merit. I do love taking photos though, and diving into the underwater world has been a really fun adventure. It takes all the difficulty of photography on land and adds the elements of movement (of both you and the subject), unpredictable light and inconsistent colors. Yay!
Needless to say, there’s been a steep learning curve, but in using tips and tricks I’ve been shown along the way, my shots have improved a LOT in just the few weeks I have been doing them. In this series, I want to show you the progress from my first underwater shot to my best and all the tips I learned along the way. Hopefully it will help you with your practice too! Continue reading “Underwater Photography – Lessons from a total newbie”→
When people ask where I’m from, I usually say, “America” (unless we’ve recently done something terribly embarrassing, in which case I fall back on, “Canada”). The problem is, the moment that word leaves my lips, I can see the instant judgements, stereotypes and classifications flick into place behind the listener’s eyes.
When pushed for more detail, I give my home state of Utah, which triggers questions about Mormons, polygamists and (from the more interesting stranger) land-speed records.
We all know that no matter what we call ourselves or how we choose to identify, we are thrown into a box by the person on the judging end. And none of us are plopped in a more restrictive box than sharks.
Much like Americans looks like this in the minds of many outsiders,
So I got a fancy new Ikelite dive housing for my camera as a birthday present and I’ve finally been able to get out and use it. Here are a couple of videos from the last two weekends diving here in Oman.