How I Became an Australian Freediving Champion… for Ten Minutes

Australian Pool & Para-Freediving Nationals 2025

What a roller-coaster.
Not the fun-park kind — the kind where you train for months, visualise every detail, arrive ready… and then realise the tracks have been quietly rearranged.

That was my Nationals — seven events in four days.
There were only two of us girls who chose to take on every single discipline. I felt ready for all of them — excited to do my best across every pool event.

When the Universe Tests Your Packing Skills

I arrived in Cairns full of excitement — only to discover that half my equipment had vanished somewhere between Sydney and the tropics. Three bags checked in. Zero bags arrived.

Two reappeared late that night. The third — with my fins — did not.

Thankfully, freedivers look after each other. Alan generously lent me a pair of bifins. They were big, floppy, and far from ideal… but they kept me in the competition.

Day 1: Borrowed Bifins, a Red Card… and Relief

My first event was with those borrowed bifins.
The dive felt solid — until I surfaced and received a red card.

Not from hypoxia.
Not from technique.
But because, out of old AIDA habit, I lifted my goggles and my chin brushed the water’s surface.

Under CMAS rules, you don’t remove equipment, and any contact with the water during protocol is interpreted as loss of control.

A humbling way to start.
But I knew the dive was clean, so I protested.

After review, the jury overturned the red card to a white card.
Relief.

A Pool Full of Surprises

Then came the venue — an underwater puzzle disguised as a 50 m pool:

• twelve T-marks in different shapes and sizes

• a bulkhead hiding a literal underwater cave

• visual noise everywhere you looked

I unintentionally “explored” that cave during my DYN performance on Day 3, somehow salvaging a respectable 169 m DYN, though the dive felt more like navigating a maze than gliding through flow.

Speed Events: Every Afternoon, Another Test

The sprint events were held every afternoon, once the long disciplines were completed.

By then, we were already fatigued… and then the new CMAS rules added another layer of chaos.

We had to jump off the blocks wearing a monofin and complete 2×50, 4×50, and 8×50 in the shortest time possible. Neck weights were allowed — if you didn’t mind the risk of smashing your front teeth on entry.

Despite the fatigue, I dug deep and completed my 4×50 in 2:45, earning a white card and a new national record……until that evening, when judges reviewed the footage and decided I had started the movement on the blocks as the buzzer sounded.

White card gone. NR gone. Red card instead.

I spent the night wide awake — replaying the start, studying the rules, trying to understand how such a tiny movement could cost so much and how could I be given the red card without the opportunity to protest.

Day 2: A Moment of Calm: DNF with a Legend

Before the sprint chaos, I competed in DNF — a welcome return to quiet rhythm.

I completed a relaxed 130 m DNF, diving beside the legendary Kathryn Nevatt, who glided three metres further with softness and precision.

Sharing a dive with Kathryn felt like being in the presence of mastery.

The Surface Protocol Saga

CMAS requires divers to surface into absolute silence.
No cheers. No whispers. Not even a breath of encouragement.

A number of divers — after beautiful, clean performances — were disqualified because their coach unknowingly made a sound.

Day 4: Static - The Last Dive

On the final day, something miraculous happened — I finally slept through the entire night.
After days of adrenaline, protests, overturned cards and rule-studying at 3am, I woke up feeling clear, grounded, and ready.

Static has always been the most challenging discipline for me. Not physically — but mentally.
It’s pure mind.
Pure stillness.
And sometimes… pure resistance.

My safe breath hold — the one I can complete any day — is four minutes, so that’s exactly what I aimed for. Nothing heroic. Nothing dramatic. Just a clean, beautiful dive.

The moment my face touched the water, everything softened. I felt calm. Spacious. Quiet.

Jack kept gently talking to me about freediving in the Blue Hole, and his voice drifted through the water just enough to keep my inner chatter at bay. No doubts. No negotiations. Just presence.

I surfaced into complete clarity, gave my OK… and let myself fall backward into the water in relief that it was done. That early celebration earned me a red card — as the back of my head touched the water — and most likely the gold medal and title.

Another lesson in awareness, stillness, and staying present until the very end.

Ten Minutes of Glory

At the awards ceremony, they announced me as the Australian Champion.
Gold medal around my neck. Did they change my red card from static to white? I didn't even check...
I was a champion - for ten beautiful minutes.

Then the organisers rechecked the scores and realised the points had been wrongly calculated.
First place gone.

Final standings:

🥈 2nd in Australia
🥉 3rd overall

Behind the exceptional Kathryn, and alongside the very deserving champions Emily Powley and the pool God - Ben Eckert.

The Humans Who Made It Worth It

Watching Matt Formston — a blind freediver and big-wave surfer — complete every event with courage and determination was one of the most inspiring moments of the competition.

Coaching Jack to his 7:01 static PB was a highlight, and seeing Bill continue his path of growth and self-discovery reminded me why I love this sport with all my heart.

Witnessing Ant Judge do it again and again. This time, he completed his 8:06 static, coached beautifully by his wife, Zuuza. I’m amazed by his mental strength and resilience. 

 Well-deserved beer, Ant!

What the Water Taught Me

Seven events. Four days.
Equipment drama. Rule surprises. Overturned performances. Ten minutes of unexpected triumph.

And through it all, the water held me.

I surfaced from each dive knowing I gave everything I had.
I met each challenge with softness and an open heart.
And I leave this competition more resilient, more grounded, more aware.

A better freediver.
A better coach.
A better human.

Next up:
The Guinness World Record 24-hour NO-FINS Relay — THIS weekend.

Stay tuned. The adventure (and the madness!) continues.