Freediving holidays: Down Deeper And Down

Plunging hundreds of feet on a single breath was once a pastime strictly for whales, says Andrew Spooner. Now, increasing numbers of human beings are discovering freediving

Some people like to do things the hard way. Take the British-born freediver William Trubridge. Not only is he establishing a reputation as one of the planet's leading exponents of this literally death-defying sport, but the 25-year-old has also chosen freediving's most difficult discipline, No Fins Constant Weight, in order to garner it.

Freediving, diving as deep as possible without air, requires athleticism, technique and inner strength. Of the sport's various categories, "No Fins" is self-explanatory; the freediver throws away the main aid to propulsion, fins (or flippers), in order to complete the dive. "Constant Weight" means that all the weight taken down must be brought back up again. There are none of the sleds, ropes, airbags or other safety features that a diver such as Tanya Streeter uses in her famous No Limits dives. This is freediving in its purest, rawest state.

"I dive without any aid," says Trubridge, as we meet for lunch overlooking the Red Sea near the Egyptian resort town of Sharm el Sheikh. "For me, diving without fins is just another way to sever my attachment to the world above the surface. In essence, this is about pushing the edge of human experience."

Trubridge certainly knows how to test his limits. While he has yet to establish any records under the watchful eyes of officials from the Inter-national Association for Development of Apnea (known as Aida), the sport's governing body, his training dives have reached 80 metres (250ft).

To achieve this depth, Trubridge must spend at least three minutes under water. And these three minutes are not spent relaxing in a big glass bowl à la David Blaine; they are three minutes during which he must fight the effects of CO ² narcosis, the atmospheric pressure of the water, blackouts and the painful build-up of lactic acid as he swims down to extraordinary depths - and then back up again.

"By choosing not to use fins I have to use the rest of my body, my arms and upper-body strength, much more than normal freedivers, who will just be using their legs," Trubridge explains. No Fins is also the newest freedive discipline, meaning that there is no definitive, tried and tested technique.

"I have had to develop my own style," Trubridge says. "First of all I examined footage of other No Fins divers and Olympic swimmers. Basically, I've copied the first stroke used by world-class breast-stroke swimmers after they complete their turn movement during a race."

We walk to a nearby jetty for an impromptu No Fins lesson. "The conditions along this part of the Red Sea coast are great for freediving," says Trubridge as we don our wetsuits and jump in the water.

I spend some time relax-ing and focusing on my breathing. "Being in the right frame of mind is so important," says Trubridge as we float lazily on the surface. For a sport that has such an intense image, freediving also focuses on the calming of the mind: divers claim a state of genuine peace and tranquillity is induced when underwater.

It normally takes me about seven strokes to get to a depth of about 25 metres," says Trubridge as we loll on the surface. "From that point I am negatively buoyant and begin to sink."

Becoming "negative", essentially heavier than the water he is displacing, means that Trubridge no longer needs to swim, and can freefall to his required depth. "During that phase of the dive I do need to stay very streamlined," he says, "as it is the key to me using less energy, allowing me to glide through the water."

I get a demonstration of Trubridge's technique as he duck-dives into the water. I watch him complete a powerful scooping motion, his arms stretching to their full extension and twisting back into place beside his body to create a sleek profile. Coupled with a synchronised leg-kick, the whole movement is indeed reminiscent of the breaststroke, and each forceful thrust is followed by a few seconds of effortless gliding. "The trick is to use the energy you create to take you as far as possible in the aqua-glide phase of each stroke," he says when he returns to the surface.

"Before you dive, practise your technique," he adds, and so I spend the next few minutes combining the movements into what I hope will be an effective style. "Now try bringing this all together in a dive," Tru-bridge says. I collect my thoughts, slow my breathing and, on a full, gentle inhalation, dive downwards.

The first thing I notice is that I have to use one of my hands to equalise - making the pressure of the air inside my inner ear equal to the pressure of the water - by pinching my nose and blowing. This instantly messes up my carefully rehearsed stroke. I get to about five metres below the surface and abandon the dive. "This freedive style works best when you've learnt to equalise without using your hands," says Trubridge. "However, if you're careful you can combine equalising with your stroke."

I try again, and manage to work the equalising into my overall movement. This time, I get to about eight metres. Then I dive for a third time, and everything comes together: I make just over 12.5m.

With a few more days Red Sea diving to come, I am therefore cautiously optimistic about what lies in store. My next stop is the diving mecca of Dahab, and one of the planet's most extraordinary dive sites: the Blue Hole.

The reefs and dive sites around Sharm and Dahab offer some of the most accessible and beautiful diving on the planet. My carefully manicured, plush resort, the Baron, has its own jetty that directs snorkelling guests straight on to a delightful coral reef. Plunge into the water with full scuba rig on and the wonders of the Red Sea become fully illuminated.

But it is the Blue Hole that is one of the Red Sea's biggest draws. Just a few feet from the sandy shoreline of Dahab, a 90m deep plug of ocean bed has been naturally gouged out to a diameter of 50m and filled with clear, azure seawater. Clustered along the walls of this giant sub-aqua hole are numerous corals and attendant fish.

"The Blue Hole is almost perfect for freediving," says Lotta Ericson, the joint owner and chief instructor of Freedive Dahab, a company offering a series of freediving courses there. We swim across to the mid-point of the chasm, drop a line to the bottom and begin a class.

Ericson is not wrong - freediving at the Blue Hole is astonishing. As I repeat a series of shallow, fin-assisted dives, I am enticed by the incredible visibility and shades of deep, cobalt blue. In the distance I can just make out the multi-hued coral clinging to the rim of the vast opening and the shadows of larger fish in the depths below. I don't make it that deep (17m), but with Ericson, who is also an Aida official, as my instructor I spend an enjoyable - and safe - afternoon.

"We run three-day begin-ners' courses here at the Blue Hole," says Ericson, as we take Arabic tea and are joined by Linda Paganelli, her business partner and also the Italian Constant Weight freedive record holder (66m). "Three years ago there were hardly any freedivers here; now the sport is getting bigger and bigger all the time."

With a feeling of freedive-induced serenity flowing through my veins I begin to understand why people choose to take the plunge, despite the perceived risks. "I guess," says Paganelli, "we are slowly losing our reputation as being crazies."

William Trubridge runs No Fins freediving courses in the Bahamas. For details: verticalblue.net. Seven nights' b&b at the Baron Hotel, Sharm El Sheikh, with Thomson Holidays (0870 166 0136, thomson.co.uk) from £385 per person based on two sharing. Price includes return flights, accommodation and resort transfers. Freedive Dahab (freedivedahab.com) offer beginners' freedive courses at the Blue Hole