‘It’s just me and the sea’: Phillip Powell remembered after scuba diving tragedy

When his sister asked Phillip Powell what he loved about diving he told her “it’s just me and the sea”. Then, he got into trouble under Port Noarlunga Jetty.

Eunice White remembers September 13 in 2011 as a beautiful sunny day.

She thought to herself that her older brother Phillip Powell would likely be scuba diving.

Meanwhile, she was writing an email while her newborn baby slept and her four-year-old daughter Lauren watched television.

It was then when she received a call from her other brother Andrew.

“You better sit down,” Andrew told her through the phone.

“The words ‘Phil is dead’ uttered from his mouth,” Ms White, from Modbury, said.

The 47-year-old had been scuba diving off the jetty at Port Noarlunga when he encountered difficulty around the pylons. He was later spotted at the mouth of the Onkaparinga River.

A surf life saver in an inflatable rescue boat was the one who retrieved his body.

Phillip Powell was 47 when he died scuba diving in 2011 off the Port Noarlunga jetty. Picture: Supplied by family

Phillip Powell (on right) with his siblings visiting Santa when he was 11 years old. Picture: Supplied by family

“I was in shock,” Ms White, who is now 51, said.

“I started to cry hysterically … I had to wait for my husband to get home before I told my four-year-old daughter Lauren.

“I kept saying to myself ‘this is not true, this is not true’.

“The loss I felt was indescribable.”

Ms White said the family later found out Phillip had an inherited heart condition called arrhythmogenic right ventricular cardiomyopathy (ARVC) which caused his death.

“All the family had to be tested for the condition. Phil had seen a cardiologist just months before because he thought something was wrong,” she said.

“Phil was a force, inherently a quiet person, but always mischievous.

“As a kid he got into trouble as he liked pulling things apart to see how they worked.

“He was always ready to lend a hand, and so generous especially with his nieces and nephews.

“Phil was tenacious, never letting anything stop him including the disability he was born with.

“He loved planes and travelling, fishing, motorsport, anything to do with water – scuba diving was his passion once he attained his licence.

“When I asked him why he liked diving he said ‘it’s just me and the sea’.”

Euncie White is the sister of Phillip Powell and said her brother’s death robbed her daughters of having a special uncle. Picture: Facebook

The last thing Phillip said to his sister was about her newborn, who was due to have surgery.

“He had a way of relieving my fears; if he said it would be okay, I knew it was going to be okay,” Ms White said.

“If I knew that was going to be the last time I saw him I would have made him stay longer.”

Ms White said siblings know you the most and carry a lot of memories with them.

“It’s like losing a part of your childhood, and it’s gone and you can’t replace it,” she said.

“Siblings have a connection and when their gone it leaves a void.”

For Ms White navigating grief has been a difficult process.

“It shows up when you least expect it to,” she said.

“I’ve learnt to let grief come and sit with it. I carry him and take him wherever I go, it’s how he lives on and I create ways to honour his memory.

“The words of ‘Tuesdays With Morrie’ comes to my mind ‘death ends a life not a relationship’, he may be not here in person, but I still have a relationship with him in my own way.

“It might be drinking his favourite drink on his birthday or buying the kids something I know he would spoil them with.”

Ms White feels Phillip’s death has robbed her and her daughters of having “a special uncle”.

“The process of grief is a journey and only I can take the drivers seat, sometimes I stop at tears, other times I am reminded how fragile life is, and I’m glad he’s not the one grieving my death,” she said.

“When someone is grieving they need to talk about the person they are grieving.

“It’s okay to bring the person up in conversation. If we cry it’s okay, it helps us grieve and know we are not alone.”