It's been a while since I last wrote anything for BlueTrend. For those who have read my previous articles — a quick update: I've left Australia, returned to Taiwan, and will soon be heading abroad to study. In the short term, I won't be working as a dive instructor anymore. It's not that I dislike the job; I simply reached my goal and wanted to set a new challenge for myself. That's a topic for another article.
Today, a friend who is doing a working-holiday dive certification back in Australia sent me a private message asking about the process. It's been exactly a full year since my first day there! Over that time, quite a few people have messaged me with questions, and some have even gone to the same dive shop I worked at — and successfully earned their instructor certifications. I still remember my last day aboard Ocean Quest (the boat I worked on). I was devastated on the way back. At the farewell party, many of the divemasters from the company came over to hug me and sincerely thank me for my guidance — something I never could have imagined back when I was a first-timer doing a discover scuba dive in Kenting.
This article is about my personal journey from divemaster to dive instructor.
The Weakest Divemaster, the Hardest-Working Attitude
When I was doing the working-holiday dive certification, I was the weakest divemaster in the group. Having never worked professionally as a divemaster, I found it challenging to deal with guests and even struggled with something as basic as leading a dive. I got scolded by a Japanese instructor, then lectured by an Australian instructor, and there was also a Korean instructor who would periodically chase me down just to say "terrible."
So every day I made a list of small things I needed to figure out: "How do I remember the corals?" "How do I lead a dive?" "How do I find the underwater photographer?" "How do I navigate to a specific depth?" I also started observing how instructors organized their divers, how they boosted morale, how they encouraged divers to move faster, what I should be doing at each point in time, how to deliver a dive briefing, how to use the air compressor, how to set up divers' equipment, and how to arrange the order in which people entered the water.
"Oh, so that's how Mel talks to Open Water students." "Oh, Kyle is so popular — turns out he designs fun little exercises!" "Oh, everyone loves diving with Filippo because he's so funny (and charming) and always chats with his divers before they get in the water." "Oh, Tom is always so efficient because he gives a mini briefing right before leading everyone in." Every single day I was observing what others did and finding ways to improve myself.
I once wrote out my entire dive briefing as a full word-for-word script. Even jokes like "If you have any problem, please tell your instructor, we will take care of your problems. However, we cannot fix your marriage" — I practised them until they sounded natural. After a week of practice, I went to my supervisor and said I wanted to deliver the briefing in English. In the end, I got positive feedback.
The more you're aware that you're the weakest, the harder you must work.
The divemasters from my cohort
"If You Can't Think Like an Instructor, You Don't Belong Here"
The reason I suddenly wanted to write this article is because of that one sentence.
Before the instructor examination, we had nearly three weeks of Instructor Development Course (IDC). I spent almost every single day in the pool practising neutral buoyancy (the exam pool was extremely shallow — I recall the deepest point being around 2 metres). There were also three days and two nights of open-water instructor training aboard our liveaboard vessel. In addition to the course director, we had a Korean instructor who spoke three languages serving as our teaching assistant.
It was winter in Cairns at the time. Aside from meals and sleep, we were in the water the entire day — usually staying down until someone's tank dropped to around 50 bar, at which point everyone would surface, swap cylinders, and go back in. During one dive, we were practising underwater navigation. I played the role of the instructor while my two classmates acted as students. I pointed out several errors: the student holding the compass should keep their elbow perpendicular, they needed to use their free leg to count kick cycles, and they had to turn in the right direction.
Suddenly, the Korean instructor stopped me. He looked furious and indicated that I had missed an error. Underwater in that moment, I genuinely couldn't understand what he was getting at.
He brought me to the surface and said: "If you cannot think like an instructor, you are not supposed to be here." It turned out that while I had caught the textbook mistakes, I had completely missed the fact that my student's depth was fluctuating wildly. In that moment, I felt nothing. It wasn't until we were back on the boat resting and my other classmate — who had been put through the Korean instructor's iron-discipline training — came over and said, "Jen, I know you," that I broke down and accidentally started crying. My only thought was: why do I still feel like I can't get anything right?
"If You Can't Think Like an Instructor, You Don't Belong Here"
That sentence from the Korean instructor affected me profoundly. The jump from divemaster to dive instructor isn't just a change in responsibility — the entire perspective you're expected to hold is fundamentally different. There were times when I couldn't understand why an instructor would do one thing or avoid doing another, and it was only after becoming an instructor myself that I realized there was always a reason. That's why we often joke that "a divemaster is someone who thinks they know everything but actually knows nothing" — because most divemasters still spend the majority of their time with certified divers, which makes it harder to approach less experienced divers through guidance and education, and skews their situational judgment away from what's needed for true beginners.
That one sentence was a real wake-up call. I finally understood: once the training is complete, the responsibility is different. (Afterwards, the Korean instructor was called in and reprimanded by the course director — after all, there are significant differences between Asian and Western teaching philosophies, and I felt a bit bad for him.)
In fact, the feeling became even more pronounced once I actually became an instructor. Entering the real working environment meant that the people I was responsible for were discover scuba divers and inexperienced certification students. (Side note: in Australia, one instructor typically handles four discover scuba divers at a time. I started out barely managing two without losing all control, and eventually worked up to leading four discover scuba guests at once — hovering above the coral watching Clownfish is both a surreal experience and a genuinely satisfying skill to develop.) Unexpected situations would arise quickly and constantly. Figuring out how to keep the big picture in mind became something I had to think through before every dive. It was no longer just about worrying that I might get lost or fail to find something interesting — far more importantly, it was about how to successfully take people out and bring them safely back.
That personal journey was truly extraordinary — almost like the feeling of finally reaching a summit, only to find that everything resets to zero the moment you get there.
The venue for the instructor examination
Back when we were still divemasters, we'd mess around until the course director got annoyed
Dive Instructors and Divemasters
During my new instructor training period after becoming certified, my trainer — a Hong Kong instructor named Eunice — once told me: "After you become an instructor, that doesn't mean you hand all the boat duties off to the divemasters. You still do them." Eunice taught me the right attitude to have toward divemasters: "We are all colleagues. You cannot pile extra work on them just because they're divemasters, or refuse to help them." After becoming an instructor, I still helped hold the gate (when the swell is big, someone needs to stand at the gate to prevent guests from slipping — further reading: Diving Safety Is Non-Negotiable: The Diver's Guardian — the Lookout), helped rinse masks, sorted wetsuits, and did all the things I was being paid to do. At the same time, I gave divemasters appropriate support, and I would remind them that when they became instructors themselves, they should treat the divemasters who assist them with the same respect. Perhaps those small gestures were noticed — before I left Australia, those divemasters expressed their gratitude to me.
Compared to instructors with deeper theoretical knowledge and richer experience, I still have a great deal to learn. But I believe that these small mindsets, put into action, can earn the genuine respect of the people who come after you.
Whether in the medical field or the diving industry, I've come to feel how important it is to have mentors who are "willing to respect and support those who come after them." Leading by example allows that spirit to carry on — it brings positive energy and a virtuous cycle to the workplace. In Australia, I often heard supervisors and instructors praise you specifically for something you'd done well. You might think: of course you should do your job well, so what? But those one or two words of encouragement genuinely made me more efficient, more confident in my ability to get things done, and — most importantly — happy. And when things went wrong, irrational top-down blame was rare. The priority was always to solve the problem first. "Finish the work together, have a great day, then go for drinks together" was everyone's shared goal.
Back in Taiwan, I've carried that same philosophy with me (minus the drinks) and tried to spread it, bit by bit, among the junior colleagues I work with in the hospital.
Further reading:
-
Diving Safety Is Non-Negotiable: The Diver's Guardian — the Lookout
-
Tired of the Great Barrier Reef? Come Dive with pipefish and Seals in Melbourne
-
Exploring Australia's Mysterious Shipwreck in Strong Currents — S.S. Yongala
-
Swimming with Minke Whales on the Great Barrier Reef — Australia's Must-Do Dream Voyage
