Not exactly a trip report, but interesting. These guys have to be doing something right; rarely do LEOs allow civillians to help in any way.
http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-000005262jan20.story
They come as a team from jobs as disparate as engineers or elevator technicians to wherever the disaster may be, hoping to pull closure for despondent families from the deep water.
The specialty divers have no official name, pay for their training and equipment, and earn no money for their efforts, whether they are finding bodies, black boxes or murder weapons in water so deep that even seasoned county rescue divers cannot reach them.
Eight deep-water divers, trained under the Florida-based Global Underwater Explorer program, helped last week in the effort to recover the bodies of three men who died when their boat crashed Jan. 11 in Castaic Lake. With the help of remote-controlled sonar equipment, they found the three bodies, two of which they brought to the surface Friday. Saturday afternoon, the body of Nelson Roy Brinkman, 30, of Phelan, was pulled from the lake after divers using sonar equipment located the body. The bodies of Charles Wiseman, 47, of Castaic, and Steve Coulombe, 38, of Agua Dulce, were recovered Friday. Los Angeles County lifeguards found the fourth victim, Ken Lane, 41, of La Canada Flintridge, floating in the water immediately after the crash.
The four men--all avid speedboat enthusiasts--allegedly were testing a new high-performance boat manufactured by Coulombe's company, High Torque Marine, when the twin-hulled craft flipped and sank. Witnesses told authorities the boat was traveling at about 80 mph at the time.
Lane and Brinkman worked as engine builders for Coulombe. Wiseman, a concrete subcontractor, was a customer and friend.
The boat's wreckage and the bodies were located 247 feet below the surface--nearly 100 feet beyond the limit county divers are trained to go.
About 20 divers in California are trained to participate in such deep-water recovery efforts, led for eight years by Beverly Hills accountant Michael Kane.
"Closure is the driving force," Kane, 39, said. "People exploit tragedy all the time, but we do this for love of the sport."
High-profile missions such as airplane crashes cause the most pressure, the divers say, but the most gratifying are those in which they help people like Amy Comtee through the grieving process.
Comtee's 62-year-old father, Wayne Derx, was missing for 15 days after disappearing last Sept. 2 while diving off Catalina Island.
Kane contacted Comtee after the Tempe, Ariz., woman posted a message on an Internet bulletin board asking the dive community for help in finding her father's body. His team found her father on the first day of its search.
"When someone dies, it's not just the need for closure, it's needing to know where they are," Comtee said. "I was so incredibly touched that someone would risk so much just to bring us some comfort."
The team's rigorous training prepares them for cave exploration and deep-water diving and helps reduce some of the risks. Those risks include the possibility of paralysis or death due to accumulated dissolved gases bubbling in the body if a diver surfaces too quickly from water deeper than 100 feet.
"With every rescue and recovery that you go on, you're going into an environment that's already killed someone else," said Mark Lonsdale, a member of Kane's team and a training officer for the county divers. "In deep-water diving, there's no room for error."
County divers, about half of whom are volunteers, are trained to go only as deep as 150 feet because it is too expensive to maintain the capability for the rare deep recoveries, Lonsdale said. To maintain their deep-water certification, divers must perform hundreds of deep-water dives on a regular basis. Kane and each of his volunteers spend about $50,000 a year on equipment, he said.
"Diving is a very, very tiny part of what sheriff's [rescue teams] are required to do in the big picture," said Lonsdale, 46, of Santa Monica. "The best option is to use guys who train to that level because they want to."
Kane said it took a while for county rescue officials to gain confidence in his deep-diving team. When he first offered the group's services, he said, officials were reluctant to work with them, instead referring them to families in need.
Within a couple of years, though, he said his team was invited by law enforcement officials to help with missions ranging from finding guns discarded in the ocean to retrieving the black boxes from fallen airplanes.
Last week's Castaic Lake recovery was the first time in Lonsdale's 13 years with the Sheriff's Department in which divers went to that depth, he said.
The deep-water divers who participate in recovery efforts place themselves in the sport's upper tier, Global Underwater Explorer President Jarrod Jablonski said. Kane requires that his team members--all volunteers who pay for their own equipment and training--undertake hundreds of dives deeper than 200 feet before being allowed to help with recoveries.
"Just the act of looking for a dead body adds stress to an already stressful environment," Jablonski said. "Only a reckless person would try this without hours and hours of specialized training."
Like Kane, dubbed "Mr. Showtime" by the group, the divers all have engaging personalities. Kane exuded confidence last week at Castaic Lake as he prepared for the dive, lugging 120-pound double tanks and swim fins.
In addition to having Type A personalities, the divers all revel in risky behavior and think clearly under pressure, Kane said.
"You have to have that gene in you to jump down to 400 feet to locate a dead body," Kane said. "But you can't be the type to panic when you see it."
Separating emotion from the task at hand is the most difficult part of a mission, said John Walker, a UC Irvine elevator technician who has helped Kane.
"We have to look at the bodies not as human beings but as targets, like, 'Yeah, we found it,' " said Walker, 40, of Westminster. "We want to help with the closure, but we have to be more clinical than emotional."
Most team members live in Los Angeles and Orange counties, although some are as far away as Monterey and San Diego. About one of every 10 seriously interested divers are chosen for the group.
"Your team is only as strong as the weakest link," Kane said. "If you have a cowboy or a solo player, he puts the whole team in jeopardy."
Although the divers use $200 worth of gases for each dive and take time away from work, they refuse payment for their services.
Instead of payment, families are asked to make donations to Catalina Island's hyperbaric chamber, which treats injured divers.
http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-000005262jan20.story
They come as a team from jobs as disparate as engineers or elevator technicians to wherever the disaster may be, hoping to pull closure for despondent families from the deep water.
The specialty divers have no official name, pay for their training and equipment, and earn no money for their efforts, whether they are finding bodies, black boxes or murder weapons in water so deep that even seasoned county rescue divers cannot reach them.
Eight deep-water divers, trained under the Florida-based Global Underwater Explorer program, helped last week in the effort to recover the bodies of three men who died when their boat crashed Jan. 11 in Castaic Lake. With the help of remote-controlled sonar equipment, they found the three bodies, two of which they brought to the surface Friday. Saturday afternoon, the body of Nelson Roy Brinkman, 30, of Phelan, was pulled from the lake after divers using sonar equipment located the body. The bodies of Charles Wiseman, 47, of Castaic, and Steve Coulombe, 38, of Agua Dulce, were recovered Friday. Los Angeles County lifeguards found the fourth victim, Ken Lane, 41, of La Canada Flintridge, floating in the water immediately after the crash.
The four men--all avid speedboat enthusiasts--allegedly were testing a new high-performance boat manufactured by Coulombe's company, High Torque Marine, when the twin-hulled craft flipped and sank. Witnesses told authorities the boat was traveling at about 80 mph at the time.
Lane and Brinkman worked as engine builders for Coulombe. Wiseman, a concrete subcontractor, was a customer and friend.
The boat's wreckage and the bodies were located 247 feet below the surface--nearly 100 feet beyond the limit county divers are trained to go.
About 20 divers in California are trained to participate in such deep-water recovery efforts, led for eight years by Beverly Hills accountant Michael Kane.
"Closure is the driving force," Kane, 39, said. "People exploit tragedy all the time, but we do this for love of the sport."
High-profile missions such as airplane crashes cause the most pressure, the divers say, but the most gratifying are those in which they help people like Amy Comtee through the grieving process.
Comtee's 62-year-old father, Wayne Derx, was missing for 15 days after disappearing last Sept. 2 while diving off Catalina Island.
Kane contacted Comtee after the Tempe, Ariz., woman posted a message on an Internet bulletin board asking the dive community for help in finding her father's body. His team found her father on the first day of its search.
"When someone dies, it's not just the need for closure, it's needing to know where they are," Comtee said. "I was so incredibly touched that someone would risk so much just to bring us some comfort."
The team's rigorous training prepares them for cave exploration and deep-water diving and helps reduce some of the risks. Those risks include the possibility of paralysis or death due to accumulated dissolved gases bubbling in the body if a diver surfaces too quickly from water deeper than 100 feet.
"With every rescue and recovery that you go on, you're going into an environment that's already killed someone else," said Mark Lonsdale, a member of Kane's team and a training officer for the county divers. "In deep-water diving, there's no room for error."
County divers, about half of whom are volunteers, are trained to go only as deep as 150 feet because it is too expensive to maintain the capability for the rare deep recoveries, Lonsdale said. To maintain their deep-water certification, divers must perform hundreds of deep-water dives on a regular basis. Kane and each of his volunteers spend about $50,000 a year on equipment, he said.
"Diving is a very, very tiny part of what sheriff's [rescue teams] are required to do in the big picture," said Lonsdale, 46, of Santa Monica. "The best option is to use guys who train to that level because they want to."
Kane said it took a while for county rescue officials to gain confidence in his deep-diving team. When he first offered the group's services, he said, officials were reluctant to work with them, instead referring them to families in need.
Within a couple of years, though, he said his team was invited by law enforcement officials to help with missions ranging from finding guns discarded in the ocean to retrieving the black boxes from fallen airplanes.
Last week's Castaic Lake recovery was the first time in Lonsdale's 13 years with the Sheriff's Department in which divers went to that depth, he said.
The deep-water divers who participate in recovery efforts place themselves in the sport's upper tier, Global Underwater Explorer President Jarrod Jablonski said. Kane requires that his team members--all volunteers who pay for their own equipment and training--undertake hundreds of dives deeper than 200 feet before being allowed to help with recoveries.
"Just the act of looking for a dead body adds stress to an already stressful environment," Jablonski said. "Only a reckless person would try this without hours and hours of specialized training."
Like Kane, dubbed "Mr. Showtime" by the group, the divers all have engaging personalities. Kane exuded confidence last week at Castaic Lake as he prepared for the dive, lugging 120-pound double tanks and swim fins.
In addition to having Type A personalities, the divers all revel in risky behavior and think clearly under pressure, Kane said.
"You have to have that gene in you to jump down to 400 feet to locate a dead body," Kane said. "But you can't be the type to panic when you see it."
Separating emotion from the task at hand is the most difficult part of a mission, said John Walker, a UC Irvine elevator technician who has helped Kane.
"We have to look at the bodies not as human beings but as targets, like, 'Yeah, we found it,' " said Walker, 40, of Westminster. "We want to help with the closure, but we have to be more clinical than emotional."
Most team members live in Los Angeles and Orange counties, although some are as far away as Monterey and San Diego. About one of every 10 seriously interested divers are chosen for the group.
"Your team is only as strong as the weakest link," Kane said. "If you have a cowboy or a solo player, he puts the whole team in jeopardy."
Although the divers use $200 worth of gases for each dive and take time away from work, they refuse payment for their services.
Instead of payment, families are asked to make donations to Catalina Island's hyperbaric chamber, which treats injured divers.
