October 12 1992
Fifteen Years Today
For the past 14 years or so I have written a memorial for two young men who died a horrific death while doing what they loved-diving. Some have grown tired of seeing the XXX Years Today post and have expressed it loudly. Yet others appreciate the reminder. For me it is a vivid reminder of where I have been, how far I have come, and what more I still have to do.
I step back in time to a fateful Columbus day weekend in 1992 when we had gathered in Philadelphia for the NAUI International Conference on Underwater Education (ICUE) at a special session we had organized to discuss the concerns and problems of this new thing emerging-Technical Diving.
1992 was not a good year. We had experienced more than 10 fatalities Alachua Sink, FL, Andrea Doria, Nantucket, Arundo, NJ, Chester Polling, MA, Devil's Ear, FL, La Jolla Canyon, CA., In addition to the US fatalities there were fatalities as well in Europe. There were also some injuries, June 92, the U_Who _ DCI blowup, Aug 92, Andrea Doria, DCI blowup, Lake Jocasse, NC o2 tox, but survived. And there were about to be two more fatalities within hours of our gathering.
I assembled a panel sponsored by my (then) magazine Sub Aqua and my colleague Michael Mendunos magazine (then) AquaCorps. The panel included many of the divers and trainers who were in the forefront of this new technical diving movement. Menduno, Chowdhury, Garvin, Hendrick, Bielenda, Deans, Betts, Bohrer, Butler, Hamilton, Mount, Emmerman, Gilliam, Lander, Cush, and myself as organizer. The audience (over 250 and standing room only) were the seasoned and the novice diver. Some with decades of diving experience, others with just months. We discussed issues that were important to life and the survival underwater. This was Saturday. October 10, 1992. (Interestingly I briefly met the woman who would become my wife that day).
During the next day small groups got together to discuss issues and explore more of what we talked about. We were happy with the work we had done and planned to continue to work with each other in the future as this was just the beginning of our work. We went home in the hopes that we may have learned just one thing that will save us or will save just one other.
It was a rainy weekend in Philadelphia. But we were warm and comfortable wrapped around by the city of freedom, independence and hope. But it was a Sunday and while we were finishing our meetings others were out diving. The dive season on the East Coast was still active, especially for the hard core wreck divers.
As we sipped our coffee during brunch in the hotel there were screams of fear and terror. Two young men, a father and son team 235 feet below the surface of the New Jersey Atlantic ocean struggled to live. While they gasped for breath, we were living life. While a father tried to save his son, we were planning our next adventure. And while the valiant crew and the people onboard the Seeker tried to breathe life back into them we were probably thinking that the work we had done this weekend was good.
Barb Lander, (one of our panelists) left the conference Saturday night to be on that trip. A registered nurse, she saw the death of one and the soon death of the other first hand. Another panelist, Cathie Cush, who had lost her long time lover that summer was best friends with the woman who has just lost her husband and son. Except we didn't know this happened until we got home that evening and the phones were ringing. The news hit home.
I did not know the two men who died. I had heard their names and may have met them once but that need not matter. By default they were friends. I did not have to know them to know some of how they felt about life. Since that weekend in 1992 I have lost way too many friends to diving. Some acquaintances, some very dear friends. Some that make me wonder why we continue to do these dives and others that just make me wonder. The big ones to me, Steve Berman, Tony Maffatone, Rod Farb and Steve Donothan. Ive also seen many divers get hurt, decompression sickness, oxygen toxicity, gas embolism. Most survive with little to no permanent damage, some still struggle each day to get back to a normal life. Each one cuts a part out of my heart and each one leaves an indelible mark etched in my soul that requires, that mandates, that I continue to survive and succeed at my pathway of being the best I can be at this craft.
As go on dive boats now and watch new tech divers who dont really know who I am or where I have been I interact less and less with them. I watch and listen to them as they discuss dive plans and profiles with a cavalier attitude. I listen to some of the wildest statements of fact and shake my head in wonder. I might ask how long they have been diving only to find they have only accumulated a pile of equipment and a lot of certification cards, but never really have dived. It gives me a moment of pause. Todays diver scares me. Just like early tech divers like myself scared those who came before us. Note that of the panelists I listed above, all are still alive Some of us are still active in technical diving. Ive been at the tech game since 1990.
15 years later, analysis, two books written, a documentary filmed, and a feature film about to be produced, and more friends and acquaintances have passed away. We know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this stuff is dangerous -- that the ocean is an alien environment and we are just guests, and while equipment rarely fails, we know that men and women fail at the point when they can no longer perform. Many of you who are reading this know that some will be left behind. Not because we want them to but because the sea will take them. If you dont, then, this is the time for the wake up call.
This past year there have been accidents and fatalities. There will be more. But as we throw out the names of people who have died while diving and as we try to pick apart accidents in the search for more information. As we demand information in the un-earned right to have it when an incident occurs, take a moment and realize that the last time you came back from a dive you were lucky.
Some say luck begins with preparedness, others may say it's skill, but at the end of that day your name was not on that list. And while you may continue to argue about which way is better and which way is right use some common sense and help yourself and the people who love you. If you know it's stupid just don't do it. If you know your prep just was not what it should be scrub the dive. If you do jump in and become one more name to add to the list, someday after the pain has subsided among those that knew you, someone may remember that fateful day.
In Memoriam for Chris Rouse Sr. and Chris Rouse Jr. October 12 1992
Godspeed
Joel Silverstein, 2007
Fifteen Years Today
For the past 14 years or so I have written a memorial for two young men who died a horrific death while doing what they loved-diving. Some have grown tired of seeing the XXX Years Today post and have expressed it loudly. Yet others appreciate the reminder. For me it is a vivid reminder of where I have been, how far I have come, and what more I still have to do.
I step back in time to a fateful Columbus day weekend in 1992 when we had gathered in Philadelphia for the NAUI International Conference on Underwater Education (ICUE) at a special session we had organized to discuss the concerns and problems of this new thing emerging-Technical Diving.
1992 was not a good year. We had experienced more than 10 fatalities Alachua Sink, FL, Andrea Doria, Nantucket, Arundo, NJ, Chester Polling, MA, Devil's Ear, FL, La Jolla Canyon, CA., In addition to the US fatalities there were fatalities as well in Europe. There were also some injuries, June 92, the U_Who _ DCI blowup, Aug 92, Andrea Doria, DCI blowup, Lake Jocasse, NC o2 tox, but survived. And there were about to be two more fatalities within hours of our gathering.
I assembled a panel sponsored by my (then) magazine Sub Aqua and my colleague Michael Mendunos magazine (then) AquaCorps. The panel included many of the divers and trainers who were in the forefront of this new technical diving movement. Menduno, Chowdhury, Garvin, Hendrick, Bielenda, Deans, Betts, Bohrer, Butler, Hamilton, Mount, Emmerman, Gilliam, Lander, Cush, and myself as organizer. The audience (over 250 and standing room only) were the seasoned and the novice diver. Some with decades of diving experience, others with just months. We discussed issues that were important to life and the survival underwater. This was Saturday. October 10, 1992. (Interestingly I briefly met the woman who would become my wife that day).
During the next day small groups got together to discuss issues and explore more of what we talked about. We were happy with the work we had done and planned to continue to work with each other in the future as this was just the beginning of our work. We went home in the hopes that we may have learned just one thing that will save us or will save just one other.
It was a rainy weekend in Philadelphia. But we were warm and comfortable wrapped around by the city of freedom, independence and hope. But it was a Sunday and while we were finishing our meetings others were out diving. The dive season on the East Coast was still active, especially for the hard core wreck divers.
As we sipped our coffee during brunch in the hotel there were screams of fear and terror. Two young men, a father and son team 235 feet below the surface of the New Jersey Atlantic ocean struggled to live. While they gasped for breath, we were living life. While a father tried to save his son, we were planning our next adventure. And while the valiant crew and the people onboard the Seeker tried to breathe life back into them we were probably thinking that the work we had done this weekend was good.
Barb Lander, (one of our panelists) left the conference Saturday night to be on that trip. A registered nurse, she saw the death of one and the soon death of the other first hand. Another panelist, Cathie Cush, who had lost her long time lover that summer was best friends with the woman who has just lost her husband and son. Except we didn't know this happened until we got home that evening and the phones were ringing. The news hit home.
I did not know the two men who died. I had heard their names and may have met them once but that need not matter. By default they were friends. I did not have to know them to know some of how they felt about life. Since that weekend in 1992 I have lost way too many friends to diving. Some acquaintances, some very dear friends. Some that make me wonder why we continue to do these dives and others that just make me wonder. The big ones to me, Steve Berman, Tony Maffatone, Rod Farb and Steve Donothan. Ive also seen many divers get hurt, decompression sickness, oxygen toxicity, gas embolism. Most survive with little to no permanent damage, some still struggle each day to get back to a normal life. Each one cuts a part out of my heart and each one leaves an indelible mark etched in my soul that requires, that mandates, that I continue to survive and succeed at my pathway of being the best I can be at this craft.
As go on dive boats now and watch new tech divers who dont really know who I am or where I have been I interact less and less with them. I watch and listen to them as they discuss dive plans and profiles with a cavalier attitude. I listen to some of the wildest statements of fact and shake my head in wonder. I might ask how long they have been diving only to find they have only accumulated a pile of equipment and a lot of certification cards, but never really have dived. It gives me a moment of pause. Todays diver scares me. Just like early tech divers like myself scared those who came before us. Note that of the panelists I listed above, all are still alive Some of us are still active in technical diving. Ive been at the tech game since 1990.
15 years later, analysis, two books written, a documentary filmed, and a feature film about to be produced, and more friends and acquaintances have passed away. We know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this stuff is dangerous -- that the ocean is an alien environment and we are just guests, and while equipment rarely fails, we know that men and women fail at the point when they can no longer perform. Many of you who are reading this know that some will be left behind. Not because we want them to but because the sea will take them. If you dont, then, this is the time for the wake up call.
This past year there have been accidents and fatalities. There will be more. But as we throw out the names of people who have died while diving and as we try to pick apart accidents in the search for more information. As we demand information in the un-earned right to have it when an incident occurs, take a moment and realize that the last time you came back from a dive you were lucky.
Some say luck begins with preparedness, others may say it's skill, but at the end of that day your name was not on that list. And while you may continue to argue about which way is better and which way is right use some common sense and help yourself and the people who love you. If you know it's stupid just don't do it. If you know your prep just was not what it should be scrub the dive. If you do jump in and become one more name to add to the list, someday after the pain has subsided among those that knew you, someone may remember that fateful day.
In Memoriam for Chris Rouse Sr. and Chris Rouse Jr. October 12 1992
Godspeed
Joel Silverstein, 2007
