Sarah Corbett Lynch: How diving and the water helped me heal after dad's death

In her new book, Sarah Corbett Lynch writes of the traumatic death of her father. Here, in her own words, she reveals how diving and the water helped her to heal

Sarah Corbett Lynch: The calmness I experience with diving is in stark contrast with the reality of my lived experience

The boat sets off from the pier at Kilkee, County Clare. The freshness of the Summer evening air bites at my cheeks and fingers, a crisp reminder that I am alive, as the chilly spray of the Atlantic Ocean splashes my skin.

The coastline here is nothing short of spectacular: the rugged cliffs, while similar to the famous Cliffs of Moher, offer a more serene alternative, attracting those who appreciate a slower pace than the tourist hot spots. The town is full of welcoming, well-travelled people, like Joe who owns the Oceanlife dive centre, and whose team trained me over the summer months in 2024. 

It is no surprise that the Loop Head Peninsula is populated by an amazing diverse community of creative people and Kilkee beckons divers from all corners of the globe.

I’m brimming with excitement to get out in the water with my diving club, Kilkee Sub Aqua. Gripping the throttle of the boat under the watchful eye of my mentor Ger, we pull out further into the bay and as the sun begins to dip, a hint of magic fills the skyline. 

Navigating these waters is always exhilarating and we bob and sway as we make our way to our destination – Myles Creek – a mystical underworld that promises to reveal a vibrant nursery of sea life.

Sarah Corbett Lynch: Diving has become a way to find peace and enjoy my life

At this moment, all the burdens of phones, bills and incessant email notifications begin to feel like distant memories, locked away in the confines of our vehicles and jackets. Here, amidst the waves, I have found a rare sanctuary; a pocket of tranquillity where the disruptive clamour of daily life can’t intrude. It’s a retreat that feels untouched by my past, a space that is purely mine. It is freedom! 

Today, Ger and a few fellow divers are by my side, and the atmosphere on the boat is infectious. Laughter fills the air, and worries are swept away by the rhythm of the sea, fading into nonexistence for a few fleeting hours.

The calmness I experience with diving is in stark contrast with the reality of my lived experience as I struggle to accept that the people who killed my dad are now free. My dad, Jason Corbett, was killed by Molly Martens – my stepmother – and her father Tom Martens in August 2015 in our North Carolina home in the US. In 2017, they were convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to 20–25 years in prison. 

But in a devastating blow to our family’s fight for justice, they had their convictions overturned in 2020, and in late 2023 they agreed a plea deal for voluntary manslaughter. In June 2024, they walked free from prison having served less than five years for killing my dad.

Sarah Corbett Lynch with her father, Jason Corbett.

I try not to think of Molly and how she and her father weaponised my words to get away with killing my dad, of how I was emotionally manipulated and coached for years by my stepmother – a person I loved – to lie about another person I loved: Dad. 

In the years leading up to my dad’s death, Molly repeatedly told my brother Jack and I that Dad was a bad man, that he had hit her and that he had suffocated my birth mother. 

I never witnessed any abuse by my dad towards Molly, yet years of coercive control, gaslighting and manipulation by her turned me into her biggest ally, her cover and her ticket to freedom. 

She regularly pitted my brother Jack and I against one another. We each competed to be her golden child, always seeking her approval. In fact, our survival depended on it; she would withdraw food if we didn’t please her. We constantly walked on eggshells in that home.

In the days after my dad’s death and leading up to our first interview with police, Molly coached Jack and I in what to say, using us as her puppets to pedal the false narrative that they had an abusive marriage. I was never given the chance to retract the lies I had been forced to tell, despite my repeated requests to be allowed to testify in court. 

Sarah Corbett Lynch: Each piece of equipment connects me deeper to the world beneath the waves

The burden of those lies continues to encroach on my life to this day, though I’ve been working on coming to terms with what happened and forgiving myself. Talk therapy has been a cornerstone of my recovery. I have found ways to find peace in my life and to enjoy it – something that my dad would have wanted for us. Diving has become one of those outlets for me.

On the boat now, I don my wetsuit. I feel the snug embrace of the neoprene material against my body, its weight a reminder of the adventure ahead. As I secure my mask and set up my tank, each piece of equipment connects me deeper to the world beneath the waves. 

Once the last buckle is fastened and my fins are slipped on, I take a moment to collect my thoughts before taking the plunge. We exchange signals, ensuring we’re all ready; a reassuring nod here, a thumbs up there, the language of divers in silent communion.

Sarah Corbett Lynch: I feel a deep sense of calm

Finally, with a deep breath, I step off the boat and into the water. The sensation is immediate and transformative, the surface tension gives way and I am enveloped in a cool embrace that swallows me whole. The world above dissolves into a distant memory, replaced by an underwater world that feels utterly alien, yet remarkably beautiful. 

I feel a deep sense of calm as my breath creates soft sounds, air bubbles rise and sea kelp sways lightly in the water. The noisy thoughts in my mind start to quieten; the unresolved issues that threaten to impose are gone and finally I’m at peace.

• A Time for Truth: My Father Jason and my Search for Justice and Healing by Sarah Corbett Lynch is published by Hachette Books Ireland in Trade Paperback, €16.99