I woke up excited for a routine day of diving at my local quarry. While the dive was not in idyllic tropical and clear conditions, I was getting to blow bubbles, which was enough for me.
I arrived at the dive site and started preparing the same way I always do by assembling and checking my gear with my buddy. I performed all my normal predive checks, inspected my regulators for any visual signs of damage, and vacuum-checked both second stages. I used a spray bottle of soapy solution to check my hoses and pressurized connections to ensure no leaks. Both my buddy’s gear and mine were in working order.
We reviewed the dive plan, geared up, and hit the water. Before descending, our dive team performed one final set of checks. We looked over each other and inspected our gear, checking that both primary and secondary regulators were functioning by taking a few breaths off each one at the surface. When satisfied that we could rely on each other’s equipment if needed in an emergency, we descended.
Once underwater, we navigated to a sunken boat. After exploring for a while, I noticed my primary regulator started breathing a bit wet. I thought that some extra water must have gotten in when I orally inflated my BCD. Without hesitation, I prolonged my next few exhalations in a failed attempt to get the water out of the second stage.
Thinking I was not exhaling a sufficient volume to clear my regulator, I turned to my trusty purge button. The force of a quick tap of the button would surely purge the regulator of any water and get me back to breathing clean, or so I thought. As I cautiously drew my next few breaths, I noticed what felt like more and more water entering the second stage.
Visibility was bad, and the amount of cold water in my primary regulator was continuously increasing. Every breath seemed to be getting more difficult, and it quickly felt like I was getting more water than air. I realized that my primary second-stage regulator had most likely failed, and I had to rely on my training on how to deal with gear failures.
Through my open-water and advanced diver courses, I spent countless hours in the pool practicing out-of-air situations and how to deal with and breathe from failing second stages. We practiced breathing on a regulator with no diaphragm or cover to simulate breathing on a flooding regulator, much like the situation I faced on this dive.
My instructor’s words echoed through my mind: “As long as you are breathing, you are OK.” He would frequently repeat that phrase so we could remember our training and not panic when faced with an emergency.
I relied on my training and slowly depressed the purge button to allow a steady stream of breathing gas to become available. I sipped the air as it was provided.
Once I could breathe better, I further assessed the situation and determined that the best action was to switch to my secondary regulator on a bungee necklace and clip off my primary. That way I could redirect my focus to safely ending the dive while I breathed off my other functional regulator.
Our dive team promptly ended the dive and headed for a safety stop, recognizing the dive was now compromised. Since my primary regulator had already failed, I anticipated my secondary regulator might also be close to failure due to its similar time in the water and both regulators having the same service interval. It would be more difficult to respond to any out-of-air emergencies while down a functioning second stage.
When I got out of the water I inspected the failed primary and found tears in both the mouthpiece and the diaphragm. That explained how the regulator could not hold a vacuum and was flooding. At the time I did not fully process the seriousness of this equipment failure. It felt like an inconvenience that forced me to call a dive a short and break out the save-a-dive toolbox to replace broken parts.
This dive solidified the importance of my training for calmly dealing with gear failures. Without it, this equipment failure could have easily compounded into a more dangerous situation. Sometimes divers panic and immediately bolt to the surface when encountering equipment problems at depth. Remaining calm and working through the issue, however, turned a potential dive incident into merely an inconvenience.
Knowing how to breathe from a flooded regulator helps ensure a smooth transition from a failing second stage to a working one. Switching from your primary to your secondary regulator — or to a buddy’s regulator in an out-of-air situation — should be a controlled, deliberate movement, not a panic grab driven by anxiety or fear.
If my secondary regulator had also flooded, my training allowed me to feel comfortable enough to breathe from either regulator for an extended time before needing to involve my buddy and share air.
Even if you meticulously check your gear, failures can still occur, even on well-serviced and maintained equipment. Don’t be complacent with checking your gear or assume that it will work. And remember that the octopus second stage is not just a tool for your buddy in an out-of-air emergency — you can also use it yourself if you experience a regulator failure.
© Alert Diver – Q3 2025