Finnatic
Contributor
Hi all,
I went to the local library to try and find a copy of The Last Dive. While they didn't have The Last Dive, I did come across Neutral Buoyancy by Tim Ecott. This is the first book on diving I've read and I'm just finishing up the last few chapters. Some who have been diving for a while are probably familiar with it, but I'd like to recommend it for some who are new to dving such as myself. The book gives an excellent account of the history of the development of modern diving equipment as well the author's own experiences and personal insights while diving the world. Here is an excerpt regarding an experience from Seaab III:
..." The following events were captured on film by an underwater camera, and George Bond, who was watching from the mission control centre aboard ship, described in his personal diary what happened...
At about 0500, the Personal Transfer Capsule was hovering off the bottom, near the habitat. Bob Barth and Berry Cannon, wearing hot water suits which gave them warmth, entered the water and connectd to their umbilicals. The word was passed to me, and I moved from control to Range Engineers Office, where we had a clear view of the divers' ladder, from another camera. Almost five minuits passed, and still no divers came into view. An inchoate web of fear began to close in on me, and I fought it back. After all, we had done it so many times at this depth at Experimental Diving Unit, I told myself. But this wasn't EDU; this was for real; and my divers were late. For perhaps the first time in my life, I was thoroughly frightened. The Bob Barth, wearing rig #1, came swimming to the ladder, and I felt better. Alone, he climbed up and pushed on the hatch, but it would not yield. Not wasting time, he swam off camera to get a crowbar. There was still no sign of Berry, and the fear began to come back, stronger this time. I am not now certain, but I think that at this time I said, very loudly,
"God damn it! Where is Berry?" No one answered. Within seconds we saw a tremendous boil of silt on the TV screen, and now fear became an agony of certainty. No trained diver moves as fast as to stir this type of sediment, unless there is real trouble. In a second, Bob swam pell-mell through the swirl and off camera, returning almost immediately with Berry in his arms. He tried to hold Berry's head up in the gas pocket of the skirt, but that didn't work. Immediately, he attempted to force the buddy-breather mouthpiece into Berry's mouth, but failed on three tries, stabbing against teeth locked in a final convulsion. Bob now turned quickly and began to drag Berry to the haven of the PTC.
Fourteen minutes later came the message from the PTC:
"Berry Cannon is dead."
Somehow, time went on, and efforts at resuscitation continued for a long while. Ninety minutes later, the seal with the DDC was made, and three of my four aquanauts returned to warmth and life. Now it was day-break, or maybe full sunrise, but nobody cared very much any more.
...As a result of the fatality, Sealab III was closed down, and US Navy interest in habitats declined. In spit of the obvious advantages of habitats in certain operations, particulary marine salvage work, the Sealab programme was discontinued."
Interesting reading, never dry, it flows like a Cousteau documentary.
Finnatic
I went to the local library to try and find a copy of The Last Dive. While they didn't have The Last Dive, I did come across Neutral Buoyancy by Tim Ecott. This is the first book on diving I've read and I'm just finishing up the last few chapters. Some who have been diving for a while are probably familiar with it, but I'd like to recommend it for some who are new to dving such as myself. The book gives an excellent account of the history of the development of modern diving equipment as well the author's own experiences and personal insights while diving the world. Here is an excerpt regarding an experience from Seaab III:
..." The following events were captured on film by an underwater camera, and George Bond, who was watching from the mission control centre aboard ship, described in his personal diary what happened...
At about 0500, the Personal Transfer Capsule was hovering off the bottom, near the habitat. Bob Barth and Berry Cannon, wearing hot water suits which gave them warmth, entered the water and connectd to their umbilicals. The word was passed to me, and I moved from control to Range Engineers Office, where we had a clear view of the divers' ladder, from another camera. Almost five minuits passed, and still no divers came into view. An inchoate web of fear began to close in on me, and I fought it back. After all, we had done it so many times at this depth at Experimental Diving Unit, I told myself. But this wasn't EDU; this was for real; and my divers were late. For perhaps the first time in my life, I was thoroughly frightened. The Bob Barth, wearing rig #1, came swimming to the ladder, and I felt better. Alone, he climbed up and pushed on the hatch, but it would not yield. Not wasting time, he swam off camera to get a crowbar. There was still no sign of Berry, and the fear began to come back, stronger this time. I am not now certain, but I think that at this time I said, very loudly,
"God damn it! Where is Berry?" No one answered. Within seconds we saw a tremendous boil of silt on the TV screen, and now fear became an agony of certainty. No trained diver moves as fast as to stir this type of sediment, unless there is real trouble. In a second, Bob swam pell-mell through the swirl and off camera, returning almost immediately with Berry in his arms. He tried to hold Berry's head up in the gas pocket of the skirt, but that didn't work. Immediately, he attempted to force the buddy-breather mouthpiece into Berry's mouth, but failed on three tries, stabbing against teeth locked in a final convulsion. Bob now turned quickly and began to drag Berry to the haven of the PTC.
Fourteen minutes later came the message from the PTC:
"Berry Cannon is dead."
Somehow, time went on, and efforts at resuscitation continued for a long while. Ninety minutes later, the seal with the DDC was made, and three of my four aquanauts returned to warmth and life. Now it was day-break, or maybe full sunrise, but nobody cared very much any more.
...As a result of the fatality, Sealab III was closed down, and US Navy interest in habitats declined. In spit of the obvious advantages of habitats in certain operations, particulary marine salvage work, the Sealab programme was discontinued."
Interesting reading, never dry, it flows like a Cousteau documentary.
Finnatic