Bill's correct, Fred in that a SWB for you, me or Bill is different than that for any other individual. Some require quite a bit of exertion prior to blacking out, and some just seem to "max out" with repetitive dives of no great depth or effort.
One that I can remember, (and that's a scary thought), occured on a day when everything was just going really nice. I mean really nice- the sun was out, the water was warm and clear and my game was on. The fish and lobster were already taking over the decks on the boat and I was still wearing my suit when the boat's owner and my friend asked me to go and unfoul the bow anchor. "No prob", I said, as I'd just gotten back from rooting around the rocks beneath the boat, some 90 feet down. I don't know what the hell I was thinking, as 90 feet was then and still is a haul. But like I said, the sun was out...
So I breathe up and head down and this is where I knew something was different. I went down almost without effort- just looked at the bottom and the next thing I knew, there I was, watching the anchor being raised and standing there just digging on the views. Happier than a pig in shit. Then I dug the views some more. And more.
I remember thinking, "Jeez, I've been down here a while!" I also remember hearing a little "Hey pal..." in the back of my head.
The next thing I do remember is floating face up on the surface, with the noise of my inhalations waking me up. Scary stuff.
When I look back at that dive, and it's a dive that I remember very well, as the bottom time and everything was just nuts, in that it was easy and without planning, thought or effort and in ideal conditions. I don't believe that I was over-extended from previous dives, was in good shape, (hell, I wish I was in that shape now!) and was sober, fed and rested.
Suffice it to say that these days the little voice has veto powers and has served me pretty well at least in regards to my being at depth. It's still really bugs me though when it comes to ex mothers-in-law.
regards.
sven