Spence Campbell
It was on my second dive of the Sea Use III-A mission that I had a “grandchild experience! That is an experience you call tell your grandchildren one day when you really want to hold their attention. It was the first dive of the day. Kirby Johnson and I were the divers.
The morning was beautiful with perfect calm conditions for the dive. The ocean above Cobb Seamount was taking a break from her usual 8 to 15 foot swells and white caps. The water was deep blue and crystal clear, and both Kirby and I were quietly excited about the dive, as we dressed into our diving gear and performed the “buddy checks” on each others equipment.
This was to be a quick dive to 130 feet, and if we could get a mooring line attached to one of the “Totem” anchors quickly, we would be able to ascend back to the surface with only a precautionary 2 minute safety stop at 10 feet, and avoid the mandatory decompression stops required on longer dives.
Kirby and I were ready to go about the same time that Captain Boyce maneuvered the Cactus into position downwind of the Zodiac boat. The Zodiac crew was holding station on a small orange buoy that had been anchored to one of the “Totem” anchors by the last search team. The temporary buoy line would guide us down to the pinnacle and the anchor.
When the ship was in position, the bridge gave the signal to stop the ships propellers, so there would be no chance of us drifting back under the ship toward huge turning blades. When the ship started to drift away from the drop area, Kirby and I were given the signal to jump from the buoy deck. It was about a 10 to 12 foot drop from the buoy deck to the water.
Suddenly, we were both in mid air and made quite a splash, hitting the water in full gear with twin tanks. For a moment after submerging from the plunge, you could not see anything but froth and bubbles. It was always a scary feeling to have those bubbles dissipate, and find yourself staring at a 10 to 12 foot white tip shark just a few feet away! This was the moment in our operation when all the divers felt vulnerable. We were always wary of seeing large sharks when the bubbles cleared away. This time there was nothing but the limitless azure blue void and my diving buddy next to me.
Kirby and I used our fins and snorkels to cover the few yards to the Zodiac boat. We completed our final checks with the Zodiac crew. John Eriksen, one of our diving officers was our safety diver. He was in full wet suit with fins, mask and snorkel and enough weight on his belt to allow him to free dive to the 10-20 and 30 foot decompression stops if need be. John was in the water next to the Zodiac boat where he could watch us as we swam down the descending line. He would remain in the water during the entire dive, and keep a vigil for us to return to the decompression stops at the planned time.
Since we had recent encounters with some fairly large white tip sharks, and on occasion smaller oceanic blue sharks would make a run on divers dangling legs, John carried a shark-billy. Our final checks complete, Kirby and I placed our regulators in our mouths and started down the descending line to the pinnacle of the mountain 130 feet below. As we descended we kept a watch on each other to make sure neither one of us stopped during the descent and we remained close until we reached the bottom.
Some divers may have to stop a moment to clear their ears. For Kirby and me, ear clearing was not a problem and we descended at a fast pace. I loved diving with my team. They were excellent divers. Suddenly, the top of the mountain was visible and the water was so clear for a moment you felt like you were flying and for some it might have provoked a “Fear of Falling” sensation.
As usual, the bottom was a spectacular sight with sparse patches of long filament algae flowing a foot or so above the basalt rock bottom that was covered with a veneer of cream colored coralline algae. The ever present schools of large red snapper and Bocassio rock fish heralded our arrival at the “Totem” anchor.
As we reached bottom, one large snapper promptly swam to Kirby and tried to eat the shiny handle of the diving knife strapped to his leg. Kirby backed away a few feet, but that fish was determined to eat the knife. For a few moments, Kirby and the fish danced around the totem anchor with the fish making repeated attacks on the knife handle and Kirby kicking it away each time it got close to his leg.
The subliminal effects of Nitrogen Narcosis seemed to enhance the effect of any funny circumstance and made it easy to over react in a fit of laughter. I was almost amused into drowning while trying to breathe and laugh at the same time! The problem with laughing through your regulator underwater is that it is very difficult to maintain a good seal around your mouthpiece. If just a little bit of salt water was inhaled, the diver would be in big trouble!
Suddenly the underwater comedy show was interrupted when I saw Kirby take a swipe at the fish with the big metal shackle he held in his hand. The shackle! Oh, Oh! I glanced at my bottom timer. We had wasted about three minutes of our precious 10 minute no decompression bottom time cavorting with the stupid fish! I signaled Kirby to bring the shackle to me at the totem anchor.
Meanwhile, topside, the Zodiac had run a short distance to the Cactus which was holding station about 40 yards from the dive site. A large nylon mooring line with a large shackle on the end was lowered into the Zodiac from the buoy deck. The Zodiac then towed the line and shackle over to the diving station. After tying up to the station buoy, the Zodiac crew gave a sharp tug on the descending line that I could feel at the anchor. I immediately returned the signal by jerking the line.
On the surface, the crew fastened the heavy shackle around the descending line and began lowering it from the Zodiac while the while the large mooring line was fed out to the Zodiac by the deck crew on the Cactus. Kirby and I backed away from the large anchor and in a few seconds the huge shackle clanked against the anchor where the descending line was tied. We quickly moved in to remove the shackle from the descending line and attach it to one of the metal bales on the totem anchor.
With the shackle secured to the anchor, I signaled the Zodiac crew that the attachment had been made so they could release the mooring line and let the Cactus have it. Task accomplished! The Cactus was now moored to the totem anchor at Cobb seamount.
I glanced at my bottom timer. We had one minute left and I signaled Kirby that we should start to the surface. Slowly, we ascended up the line watching the bottom fade from sight as we reached the 30 foot decompression stop. At this depth, we would pause for a moment and check with our safety diver on the surface. He would give us an OK signal to let us know that our dive time was correct and we could ascend to the surface as planned. No decompression stop was required on this dive, but Kirby and I would take a precautionary stop at 10 feet for two minutes just to be on the safe side.
The hang off decompression stops were relatively boring with nothing to do but maintain depth and stare off into the blue void. Sometimes there was an array of large plankton suspended in the water at the surface and the strange looking planktonic critters were interesting to watch. Then, there were the sharks.
We were about a minute into our decompression stop when John free dove down in front of me and pointed out into the void with his shark-billy. He pumped his arm and billy in one direction several times and then gave me the V hand sign for shark. He appeared excited and punctuated his sign by spanning his hands wide apart to indicate a large shark before swimming back to the surface. John had seen large sharks before on his dives and he was always Mr. Cool. I had never seen him show much emotion about the sharks.
I stared in the direction John had pointed and saw nothing. I assumed John had seen one of the larger white tips. As I continued staring into the void, a dark form gradually appeared in the distance and got larger and larger as it moved toward the decompression station. I glanced up to the surface at John who was now frantically pumping the shark-billy in the direction of the approaching form.
As I stared at the dark form gliding our way, I realized that this was no white tip. Oh my God! Its huge frontal area was mostly mouth, easily large enough to take a diver. I could see rows of large white jagged teeth as it swam toward us with its mouth partly open. A small striped pilot fish was leading the way and I could see two remora parasite fish attached to the underbelly of this huge beast.
Now, there was no mistaking what was almost upon us. Only about 20 yards and closing fast was a very large Great White Shark, one of the monsters of the sea! This was a reputed man eater, and we were dangling on a line like bait! I really couldn’t tell exactly how large it was, but from estimates by my divers that were very close, we estimated it around 17 to 19 feet in length. That was big enough to eat divers!
As the huge fish closed in on us, I realized that Kirby was facing in the opposite direction and hadn’t seen the great white yet, and I didn’t want him to be eaten before he had a chance to see what was going to eat him, so I gave him a sharp nudge in the back and he turned in immediate response to my nudge. He was pressed against me at the decompression stop when he first sighted the great white. The huge shark was within 12 feet of us. Now, when you are 10 feet underwater and totally exposed to the main marine killing machine, you know what fear tastes like!
When Kirby saw the shark, he gave a groan and his body went ridged like it had turned to concrete. The huge fish glided past us showing incredible propulsion with no apparent motion, and then headed down into deeper water and faded from sight.
For a moment, Kirby and I were paralyzed with awe, staring after the disappearing shark. Then, as if a loud alarm bell had sounded, I awoke from my stupor and realized that as long as we were in the water and that big shark was near, Kirby, John and I were still monster bait. Quickly, I whirled around and gave Kirby the underwater “let’s get the hell out of here sign.” There really wasn’t such a sign, but whatever sign it was that I gave Kirby, He knew exactly what it meant!
In less than a second, and with decompression the farthest thing from our minds, we were on the surface alongside the Zodiac boat. We could hear the topside crew’s loud exclamations (punctuated by expletives). “He was way bigger than the damn Zodiac!” someone shouted. “That dorsal fin looked like a small grey sailboat!” someone added. “Get those divers into the Zodiac!” shouted Roland White, our diving station officer. Now, that was a suggestion we were anxious to comply with!
Kirby and I were starting to remove our heavy gear so we could get into the boat, when John, our safety diver who had his head submerged keeping watch, suddenly lifted his head out of the water, spit out his snorkel and shouted “It’s coming back!!” There was no time to get our gear off and get into the boat before it could get to us. I shouted for Roland to give Kirby and me the two 38 cu ft tanks with regulators that we sometimes used in emergencies. In a flash the crew grabbed the tanks, turned on the tank valves and pushed them over the side to us.
I quickly told Kirby to put in his regulator, stay close to me and if the shark came at us, we would push the free flow button on the small tank regulators and point them at the shark with the idea that a large stream of bubbles may turn it away. Kirby nodded and put in his regulator. In a moment, we were both underwater scanning for the big shark;
For a moment we didn’t see it, then, John pointed down into the depths. The sight that greeted us made me numb for a second! The great white was at a depth of about 50 feet. It was coming up right at us at a 45degree angle. Then to our amazement, John started a free dive directly at the shark with his shark-billy extended ahead of him!
This was definitely going to qualify as a grandchild experience! I quickly looked at Kirby who couldn’t believe what he was seeing! I held the small tank regulator out in front of me and started swimming down right behind John, hoping that Kirby knew what I was going to do. He did, and he was right beside me, with the small tank regulator outstretched in front of him.
I would estimate the distance between John and the eating end of the monster was about 20 feet when Kirby and I simultaneously hit the purge buttons. Immediately, two 3 foot streams of compressed air shot out in front of us and filled the blue water with a wall of bubbles. The problem was that neither, Kirby; or I could see a thing, and we couldn’t tell what was happening with the shark! In somewhat of a panic, I let off on the air, hoping that my first sight wouldn’t be John’s legs and fins sticking out of the shark’s huge mouth!
Kirby must have had the same inclination, because, he had also let off on his purge button. As the curtain of bubbles cleared, I was relieved to see John, intact, headed back toward the surface from a depth of about 30 feet. I could also see the great white shark gliding back down into the depths. Apparently, between the sight of John and his shark-billy and the great wall of bubbles, we had turned it around.
It then occurred to me that if the big shark was now swimming away from us that we should be swimming away from it! I gave Kirby another LGTHOOH sign and we immediately started to the surface and the safety of the Zodiac. Our normal egress routine was to remove our weight belts and hand them to our crew in the boat, then we would remove the heavy twin tanks and the crew would take them into the boat for us. As we neared the surface under the Zodiac, I motioned for Kirby to go up on one side as I headed for the other.
When we surfaced alongside the boat, we handed the small tanks to the boat crew. John was already in the boat, so we had no idea if that great white was going to make another try at us. I shouted to Kirby on the other side of the Zodiac and said that we had no time to do our normal egress. I told Kirby to just swim hard up on to the pontoon and have the boat crew haul him in, tanks and all. The topside crew responded immediately. I kicked as hard as I could with my fins and the boat crew pulled me up on to the starboard pontoon as Kirby was hauled up on the port side.
Roland was already releasing the Zodiac from the anchor buoy and within seconds the outboard motor was propelling us toward the Cactus. I don’t know what the rest of the team was thinking at that time, although there was definitely some residual excitement. Me, I was offering up a silent prayer to my guardian angel!
Half way to the ship, we could see the great white shark’s dorsal fin on the surface about 50 yards from us. From our low vantage in the Zodiac it did look like a small grey sail boat! As we approached the ship we could see three Coast Guardsmen up on the flying bridge with rifles. We knew that rifles were useless against this big shark, but we appreciated the spirit and concern.
We abandoned the usual procedure of rolling off the Zodiac into the water and riding the stage aboard. Everyone was perfectly happy with climbing from the small boat up the Jacobs ladder to the buoy deck! When everyone was safely aboard the Cactus, we watched the huge fin circling the orange buoy where we were diving. It was probably wondering where its dinner went! Since JAWS was with us now, we contemplated what to do about our new problem.
Story by Spence Campbell