At the time, I didn't understand the difficulty of the situation. But in 20 minutes I would know I was going to die, the only time I was convinced I wouldn't make it out alive in my life.

The captain was the only one who knew the way back to the Caribbean through the cavern network. For us, that meant surfacing and attempting to cross the barrier with waves swelling against the reef.

The Captain's wife led us through a sort of crevice - her best bet at making it through the barrier safely. Somehow, the crevice formed a suction that pulled us to the surface at a frightening speed. I was thinking...the bends.

In an instant, we were sucked into the crashing waves and thrown onto the reef, battered, bleeding. It was a football-field length to the boat. And all that was in between was reef. As the waves hit, the barrier flooded and pushed us deeper into the reef-center, cutting us each time.

Sidney was aboard our vessel, screaming at us, trying to tell us there was open water to the south, "swim south, swim south!" The waves pounded me further into the reef. At this point, for a moment, I had no strength, I could not make it. I knew I would die. Then the flash cord of my camera was tangled on a coral head.

"Forget the camera" Sidney cried, watching me try to tangle it free. I almost did, and then I realized that if I held on to the camera, I could rest, and get some control of the situation. I held on for minutes, regaining strength as the air in my tank was going dry.

By now, my strength was back and I was able to untangle the cord. I figured to rest when the waves were out, inch toward the boat when they were in.

After twenty minutes on the reef, the three of us made it back. The captain and the injured diver also made it back - but through the caverns. We showed off our wounds, still shaking, and beached the boat on an abandoned shore for sandwiches.