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Page 33 text:
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Y- - -W f--'.:,v.- K Wi ' H571 FIVE FATHOMS DOWN S long as I can remember, I have been extremely interested in diving. I began swimming when I was about eight years old, learning first under water. It was much easier that way, for I had only to learn the stroke and not worry about keeping my head above. Later on, after I had learned to swim fairly well, both on the surface and under, I was attracted more and more to the deeper strata. I turned my attention seriously to contrivances for lengthen- ing my time from two minutes to fifteen or more. Various and sundry were the inventions I made, most of them dismal failures and others only partially successful. I tremble now, thinking about some of the contraptions to which I entrusted my life. One of these was mainly a rubber tube which I held in my mouthg the other end was connected to a floating tin can with a perforated top, thru which air was to be drawn into the tube, and thru it into my mouth. I made ready for the trial. Finding a large stone to make me sink, I jumped off the dock into about ten feet of water. I sank down and stood on the bottom. Then for the trial! I closed my mouth tightly around the tube and tried to draw in a mouthful of air. It was impossible! I realized to my horror that the pressure was too great. I-lere I Was, on the bottom with a large rock for company, and my lungs bursting for air. Thank God, I didn't lost my head! I started for shore. I-low far away it seemed! ln reality, it was only about fifteen feet. Slowly and painfully I came up. I saw the surface near and, with one final stagger, reached it. I lay half on the bank and half in the water, gulping clown delicious quantities of fresh, pure air. Needless to say, this made me more careful in mv vcnfurcs. At last, about a year ago, I made my first really successful contrivance. lt is -- the one with which I have made many A enjoyable dives. It has an oval shape F and is built to fit snugly over the head, ' . law '- chest, and back. It has a small oblong mmf - window in front which is set off from the ' 5 helmet proper. The air is pumped down 7 ,iff by an over-size automobile pump. The f ,.ff, f' air leaves the pump and is forced down a regular garden hose which is connected to the top of the helmet. By the way, I built the helmet out of an old gasoline tank. The plate glass window was originally part of an automobile windshield. Fastened around the helmet are ingots of lead to overcome its buoyancy. The exhaled air escapes thru a vent in the back. The whole helmet weighs fifty-odd pounds. Twenty-nine
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Page 32 text:
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- b- www- -'wif' k WJKlY5qijJ Courtesy of L'IIlu THE MIDNIGHT SUN Twenty-eight S
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Page 34 text:
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7-f -ff'-f ' f ki-Qil3 ,MNH Perhaps the most interesting descent I made was in an abandoned gravel quarry not far from St. Louis. I remember this dive especially because it was one of the first ones. Two friends of mine and I were going on a camping trip during the summer of 1932, I took my helmet along. Next morning, after a hike, we reached the quarry. But what hike! Walking with over fifty pounds across one's shoulders is no fun! This place was ideal-a huge, jagged hole in the middle of a meadow. Round about stood heaps of old, rusted, mining machinery. There wasn't a soul for miles around. The side I picked out was a fairly steep slope running down into the water. I changed to my swimming suit and swam out, making a few preparatory dives to ascertain the character of the ground underneath the water. It was excellent, just a sloping bank going deep into the water as far as I could go without my helmet. I swam back and regained my breath. Now for the dive! I coated the inside of the window with glycerine to prevent my breath from condensing on it. I inspected the air-line and strapped my bayonet around me. I carried the bayonet to cut myself free should I run into any difficulty. I also put large rubber boots on so I wouldn't cut my feet on the jagged bottom. Everything was in readiness! I slipped on my helmet and started down the slippery, gravel slope toward the water. My feet were already in, the water was filling my boots-lower-lower. I was in to my chest: I raised my hand as a signal for my companions to start pumping, and started forward. The water passed rapidly up over the window and I was completely under. I felt the heavy weight of the helmet suddenly lightened. The pounding of the air in my helmet was terrific. I was too much occupied watching the slope ahead as I descended to notice much else. I had no need for my lamp for the water was quite clear. I went down-ten, twenty, twenty-five, or thirty feet as far as I could judge, then the ground leveled out. I was on the bottom! Only thirty feet down, and yet I wish I could describe the sensations that passed thru me. Perhaps it sounds fanciful, but I felt as if I were in a world of my own. All about me was an opaque, green color: green, green, even my hands, strangely bloated and magnified, were green. I had a curious detached feeling, as if I were cut off from the rest of the world. I heard only the pounding of the air entering my helmet. I had no trouble breathing, how queer that seemed here on the bottom! I glanced backward. There was the slope I had just descended. It looked terribly steep. I glanced up, there was my air line, trailing upward, till hazy and dim, it passed out of sight in the greenness. I seemed to have entirely different thoughts there in that world of green than in this prosaic, upper world. As I looked at that pulsing, throb- bing thing thru which my companions were sending me life, I was filled with a strange feeling of contentment. I glanced around me. Stretching off to the right and left, and in front, the land merged with the shadows of the distance, perhaps forty feet away. Thirt y ..
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