When the champion free diver and multiple world-record holder
Alexey Molchanov stepped onto the streaked ice on Lake Baikal in southern
Siberia on March 16, the sky was cobalt blue. The sun illuminated the
surrounding mountains, the wind was light and the air a balmy minus 10 Celsius.
اضافة اعلان
It was the perfect day for a swim.
But this wasn’t the typical polar-bear plunge. Molchanov, 34,
hoped to swim 80m, or approximately 80m, beneath the meter-thick
icy surface and back up on a single breath. In the process, he would break yet
another world record.
Dressed in a thick, blue wetsuit and gloves, he slid into a
monofin then slipped into a 1-meter-square cut in the ice, where he clipped
onto a thin rope that disappeared into the inky water.
He deployed a technique that his mother, Natalia Molchanova (the
most decorated free diver of all time), first developed and taught, and
Molchanov has taken worldwide. She called it deconcentration. Instead of taking
in the scene, he detached from it, both visually and psychologically.
He focused on taking long, deep, rhythmic breaths until his
heart rate slowed and he entered a meditative state. Then he sipped the air through
pursed lips until his lungs were fully inflated, from his diaphragm to the tiny
air pockets between and behind his shoulder blades. Finally, he ducked below
the surface and disappeared.
Nearly 100 spectators and a throng of Russian news media waited
on the surface above him.
This dive was more difficult than most. His wetsuit was seven
times thicker than normal, which made it more challenging to kick against the
positive buoyancy found in the first 10m of depth.
All that effort demanded he tap into his finite supply of
oxygen. To keep warm, he wore a mask, something he typically avoids on deep
dives, which meant he had to hold his nose between his thumb and forefinger to
equalize instead of relying on a nose clip. Plus, cold water makes equalization
of the sinuses, when a diver funnels air into the sinuses to keep them
pressurized to prevent head pain and injuries such as burst eardrums, extremely
challenging.
Within 20 seconds, he had reached 20m and puffed his
cheeks out to create a vacuum for the remaining air in his lungs to fill. On
typical dives, he stores this “mouth-fill” and uses it to equalize without
having to worry about leaks. But in water that was 1 to 2 degrees Celsius, his
lips numbed quickly, and he had to clamp them shut with his fingers, his thumb
and forefinger on his nose, his middle and ring fingers on his lips.
On the slow drop toward 80m, the sound of crackling ice
rippled through the water, the barometric pressure cranked up, and it was painfully
cold. His job was to accept it all and remain relaxed no matter how awful it
felt or what happened next.
He arrived at the illuminated bottom plate, grabbed a black tag
and, with an ever-dwindling oxygen supply, dolphin-kicked back toward the hole
in the ice.
For the past four years, Molchanov has been the undisputed best
all-around free diver in the world. He came of age traveling the world, from
competition to competition, with his mother, who set 41 world records and won
23 world championship titles, despite not discovering the sport until after she
divorced at 39 years old. She never sought sponsorship and supported her family
by teaching the sport she loved.
By the time she disappeared while free diving near Ibiza in
2015, her curriculum was being taught across Russia and Eastern Europe, and
Molchanov already had one depth record and multiple world championships to his
name. He had also started manufacturing free-diving gear under the Molchanovs
brand. But with his mother gone in a tragic flash, many free divers wondered if
he’d unravel. And what would become of the brand that carried her name?
Molchanov did not share his pain. He didn’t seek therapy or
confide in anyone, including his older sister, Oksana Molchanova, which
concerned her. She’s also a free diver and an instructor, but for two years
after her mother’s death, she avoided the water. Molchanov dived more often and
brought his mother’s free-diving curriculum across the globe. The ocean became
his grief counselor.
“The water, free diving was the way for me to cleanse and
recover,” he said. Being underwater allowed him to connect with his mother
while also letting go. “It’s thinking about this connection, and it’s also
about not letting the tension and all the negative emotions settle in the body.”
On March 16, Molchanov felt heavy as he kicked back toward fresh
air. The drag of the thick wetsuit limited his flexibility and made it harder
to execute a fluid dolphin kick. “It took more work to go up,” he said. That
triggered an animalistic impulse to kick harder, but he knew any extra effort
would come at an oxygen expense he couldn’t afford. “My focus was not to
accelerate. I was trying to preserve oxygen. Not start burning it faster.”
He kicked with calm force as he swam past a technical diver at
45m. When he reached 30m he met his first safety diver, followed by
another at 20 and a third at 10. The safety divers monitored Molchanov’s eyes
and his form: If he slowed or lost motor control or consciousness, it was their
job to swim him to the surface where an ambulance was waiting on the ice.
With buoyancy back on his side, he floated to the surface after
a dive of 2 minutes, 53 seconds. He’s used to much longer and deeper dives, but
when Molchanov grabbed the line, he felt spent and breathed heavily as he
flashed the tag from the bottom plate, removed his mask and presented an OK
sign to the judge, who in turn offered a white card — confirming a successful
dive and Molchanov’s 20th world record.
As usual, Molchanov didn’t cause a fuss. The deepest diver in
the history of free diving had done it again.