I've been a search and rescue diver for 12 years. The depths are full of mysteries, but some are better left unexplored.

It was a typical recovery operation. A middle-aged man had Aluminium tubed away from his wife’s hand, and now his daughter was left fatherless. They look at us the same way a dog looks at its owner when it’s picked up from the kennel. <br><br>Sending your husband to the bottom of a lake to rot must weigh heavy on a person. I imagine the guilt is almost as suffocating as the lake water. The eyes of the family and friends are always fixed on us. The diver. We are the men and women who bring their loved ones home to rest. <br><br>My name is Phil and I’ve been doing this for 12 years. I’ve seen my fair share of bodies. A lot of them you can’t identify by face, but most float to the surface after a few days and you can at least tell it’s a person. Imagine the absolute worst day of your life and then imagine identifying the bloated carcass of your dad by his yellow boot and green raincoat. Imagine hugging the soaking wet bag that your dad is in tight, hoping it would never have to happen like this.<br><br>A lot of the time, even if a person is strapped to the right equipment, the fish and crab have already started to pick away. That’s what I mean by identifying a body by clothing, as the face and torso may already be badly decomposed. <br><br>I’ve been in the water with a body for over 10 minutes when it decides to shift its buoyancy. I’m taken aback as a length of hose slides across my face, and I reach out to steady my air supply. It’s just my imagination, the water is cold and black and it plays tricks on you. I’ve been in the water a long time. <br><br>I switch my torch on and shine it in the direction of the hose. <br><br>A diving regulator is attached to the end. I quickly move my hand over my equipment to make sure it was my imagination, but a quick glance confirmed that I was in possession of my own air supply. It’s at this point that I feel a hand grab at my leg. <br><br>I spin the light around and shine it in the direction of the grab, and I see a gloved hand, followed by an arm and a head. <br><br>The face was partially decomposed, but the eyes followed mine as I looked at them. The diver was hunched over, as if they were sat on a chair. I felt a cold breeze that seemed to pass the length of my body, and I was suddenly very scared. <br><br>I tugged at the hose to see if there was a tank anywhere to which it was attached, and seeing none I shone my torch around. I must have been spooked by the situation, as the beam from the light landed on a rock just a few feet away and a wave of fear washed over me as I saw another face. <br><br>It was another diver. This one was face down. <br><br>It must be the guy I was looking for, but how did his hose end up over here? I reached down to feel the diver’s shoulder when a hand grasped my ankle. It was vice like. <br><br>I looked down to see two hands on my legs and a gloved hand grasped my ankle and crotch. <br><br>Two divers were now sat either side of me, with their hands clasped around me. I tried to shake them away but they wouldn’t budge. The hands were like stone. Literally. The skin had rotted away and the flesh had decomposed, leaving just the bones. <br><br>I pulled at the diving equipment, ripping it away from the diver’s bodies. They were now hugging me. I was between two dead divers, deep at the bottom of a lake. <br><br>I tried to push the first diver over, but it didn’t budge. It was heavy, just dead weight, and it didn’t want to let me go. I reached down and pulled at the diving equipment, hoping to dislodge it, but the diver just moved slightly. The torso now faced away from me, but the legs still clasped around mine. And then I felt the diver’s arms snake around me, pulling my torso towards its. <br><br>I tried to push away from the diver as I felt its face push against mine. Its mask was filled with water and condemned and the stench of rot filled my own mask. The diver’s mask pushed up against mine and the regulator slid across my face, stopping at my lips. <br><br>I inhaled and my cylinder’s alarm sounded. I had taken in a deep breath of rotting lake water. <br><br>I pushed the diver away as hard as I could, but it seemed to just flop like a fish that was still on the line. It didn’t move far and its arms came straight back around me, pulling my torso closer. <br><br>I needed to get out of there. The diver’s air supply was still in its diving jacket and I reached down and turned the supply fully on. I then pulled the tank off the diver’s back and it slid across the lake bed. <br><br>It was a full tank and I knew its buoyancy would carry me to the surface. I held on to the tank and let it take me away from the dead divers. <br><br>I broke the surface and used the radio to call for recovery. A rigid inflatable boat came over and winched me aboard. They took my equipment from me and carried me to a bench, where I collapsed. <br><br>I was given a warm blanket and a hot cup of tea, and I knew nothing would get me back in that lake again. <br><br>I handed in my notice the next day.