My Near Death Experience (well, one of them)

In 1988, I was on the USS Memphis (SSN-691). I was a Reactor Operator in the nuclear program, but I was also the ship’s Dive Division Leading Petty Officer. Most Squadron Eight submarine divers did not get a chance to dive, other than security swims in port and occasional proficiency dives. Our commanding officer saw things differently. He believed in utilizing all of his resources, all the time. If he believed there was a need to put divers in the water, in we went. As a result, I completed dive operations all over the world, including in the Arctic Circle off the Northern coast of Russia (USSR at the time, deep in the Cold War), the Bermuda Triangle, Andros Island in the Bahamas, St. Croix in the Virgin Islands, Bergen Norway, Naples Italy, Palau Sardinia, Toulon France, Plymouth England, Puerto Rico, Ft Lauderdale, Charleston, Norfolk, Annapolis Maryland, Groton Connecticut, as well as other locations I’m sure…

During a six month Mediterranean Run, we stopped at La Madelena, Sardinia for a six week refit. It was arranged for us divers to spend a few days completing routine dives with the submarine tender divers (real Navy divers, who dive day in and day out, as opposed to having dive responsibilities as a collateral duty, like me).
Up to this point, I had made numerous dives, some in very dangerous conditions. I had never been scared to complete a dive, although I did swim through a pack of open water barracuda (about 2 ½ to 4 feet long) 90 miles off the coast of Panama City, Florida, ran into a few sharks in the Bahamas and in open water in the Atlantic, and did a night dive in St Croix in shark infested waters (what you know is out there that you can’t see is more nerve racking than just confronting it face to face). There were also dives that were dangerous due to the scope of work and surrounding hazards. Not once, though, was I ever nervous or afraid to complete a dive. The first morning that Erin Wining and I were assigned to the tender divers, we were told that we would be completing a bottom survey out in the bay in La Mad. The bottom depth was 138 feet, and visibility was relatively poor, at about 10 feet. It was an overcast day, and the seas were a little choppy, but not bad. It was decided that me and one of the tender divers would do the bottom survey. For the first time ever, I was really uptight about completing a dive. I was not scared, but I was really uneasy. It was a feeling I had not experienced before, and I wasn’t sure why I felt that way. I did not discuss it with anyone. It really wouldn’t go over well with a bunch of divers to say you didn’t feel good about the upcoming dive. That would have brought on an onslaught of ridicule. “Regular” Navy Divers did not seem to have much regard for submarine Scuba Divers as it is. The depth of 138 feet did not bother me, as I had completed dives to 180 feet on scuba in the Bermuda Triangle, and to 120 feet off the coast of Panama City, Florida. I knew how my body reacted at those depths, and I had never experienced nitrogen narcosis. I was in amazing physical condition at that time in my life.

The tender divers had dropped a buoy the day before, so our plan was to descend to the bottom by following the buoy anchor line. We would then attach a rope to the buoy anchor with knots at 10’ increments. You pull the search rope taught to the first knot and do a complete 360 degree circle, searching the bottom as you go. You then let out more search rope, to the second knot, and do another search circle at 20 feet in diameter. You continue until complete, and then move the anchor buoy to a new location if doing a larger area.

Me and a tender diver checked our equipment and got ready for the dive. We were in wetsuits, double scuba tanks, and typical dive gear consisting of buoyancy compensators, US Diver regulator, depth gauge, mask, fins, and a very large dive knife. We did not use a tending line back to the surface, as we had a buoy anchor line to follow to the bottom. Following the same line back to the surface would bring us back to the dive barge. We both entered the water and started our descent. We descended at approximately one foot per second, so the total descent time was just over two minutes. At the bottom, the water was a greenish/brownish/yellowish murky color, with about ten foot visibility. Our dive plan was to not exceed a depth of 130 feet, and we were to swim at 130’ while viewing the bottom, which varied between 135 and 138 feet. The bottom was just brown, murky, silt with a flat contour, with the exception of an occasional large rock outcropping on the bottom. We quickly attached our search rope and stretched it taught to the first knot at 10’. To this point, I felt fine, and had not experienced any nitrogen narcosis or other effects. The feelings of foreboding while preparing for the dive had been forgotten. Once I was in the routine of donning my gear, and getting into the water, I forgot all about the uneasy feelings I had experienced.
The Dive Master had specifically stated that we were not to exceed 130’ for our bottom depth. As we began to swim our first search circle, I held my depth gauge in one hand to keep an eye on it. As we swam, I veered off course and struck the bottom. I checked my depth gauge and it read 135 feet. I returned to 130’ and continued to swim in the search circle and again veered off course towards the bottom, and struck the bottom. I stood up vertical and immediately felt dizzy, and everything went black from my peripheral vision. It was like looking into a black tunnel. The blackness closed from the outside in, and I realized that I was struggling to maintain consciousness. I have accomplished many difficult feats in my lifetime, but it took every bit of my concentration, and every ounce of effort I could muster to maintain a sense of consciousness. What was left of my vision, which I was holding onto by a thin thread, was blurry. I don’t know how much time had passed, but I noticed the tender diver come into view (I could only see directly in front of me, like a thin tunnel; everything else had gone black). I realized I was in serious trouble and I gave him the emergency signal: I flashed him a triple four (hold up four fingers three times in a row). This signal means you are in trouble and you need assistance getting to the surface. He made an ‘OK’ sign with his fingers and motioned for me to follow him. He took off for the surface, and expected me to follow him. My vision was still badly impaired, I was dizzy and disoriented, and I was starting to feel nauseous. I started swimming in the direction the tender diver had gone, but I could no longer tell which way was up, down, or sideways. I could barely make out his shape, disappearing rapidly in the limited visibility. I followed him as quickly as I could, but it didn’t take long before he was out of sight. I found myself in a murky environment nearly 130 feet underwater, on the very edge of consciousness, with tunnel vision, and feeling very disoriented and confused.
I was trying to think of how to get out of this situation, but nothing made sense to me. When looking around, I could see a bright spot, but I couldn’t remember what that meant (it was where the sun was shining on the surface, and that is where I wanted to go, but I couldn’t figure it out). I remembered that my exhaled bubbles would go up, and I decided to follow them. I did a fairly reasonable job of following my bubbles, but I was still on the verge of losing consciousness, very confused, and I was having a hard time swimming in any given direction. Through the haze of my thoughts, I remembered that I had a depth gauge. I started watching it in order to determine which way was up. The last depth I remember seeing on the gauge was 85’.

The next thing I knew, someone was shaking me by the shoulders. I opened my eyes and felt the burn of salt water. I realized that my dive mask was full of water. I pulled my mask out and exhaled through my nose and got rid of most of the water in my mask. Much better… I was feeling very nauseous, very confused, and I couldn’t figure out why it was so hard to move my legs. I looked down and saw that my legs were partially buried in the silt on the bottom. I was still trying to kick my legs to swim, but I was essentially partially buried. The other diver in front of me was screaming at me underwater, but I could not understand what he was saying. My head was absolutely pounding, and things started to go black again. I heard air flowing in a burst, and felt myself being propelled through the water. The tender diver had admitted air into my buoyancy compensator to bring me to the surface. Once again, I was barely conscious, but I remember him admitting air into my vest, and then releasing it as we neared the surface to keep our ascent controlled. We finally broke the surface, and I was still dazed and confused. I heard people yelling my name, but I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. After a minute or two, my head started to clear a little, and I realized the people yelling at me were the crew on the dive barge behind me. I turned around and slowly swam back to the dive barge. Within minutes of being topside, all of my symptoms were gone, except for the worst headache I had ever had. My head was pounding and pounding. I could feel every heartbeat in my head like a sledge hammer blow. The Master Diver was asking me questions, and I was trying my hardest to understand him and answer. My ability to think clearly came back to me, as my headache slowly subsided. I realized that I had come very close to dying that day, and I will never forget the look on the Master Diver’s face as he was talking to me. I’m sure the look on my face was that of a man who had just had a near-death experience. The look on the Master Diver’s face was the look of a man whose 25+ year career had almost gone down in flames.

Careful research of the symptoms I had experienced indicated that I had suffered from hypercapnia. That is an elevated level of carbon dioxide in your bloodstream. Here is a definition and symptoms from a medical reference:

Hypercapnia is generally caused by hypoventilation, lung disease, or diminished consciousness. It may also be caused by exposure to environments containing abnormally high concentrations of carbon dioxide (usually due to volcanic or geothermal causes), or by rebreathing exhaled carbon dioxide.

Symptoms
Symptoms of early hypercapnia, where arterial carbon dioxide pressure, PaCO2, is elevated but not extremely so, include flushed skin, full pulse, extrasystoles (The symptoms of extrasystoles are familiar to anyone who has ever been startled and felt his or her heart had "skipped a beat." The extrasystole sometimes presents itself as one or two extra heartbeats. On other occasions, there will be a beat followed by a long silence, then a couple of quick beats. Some people experience a feeling of giddiness, shortness of breath, and weakness, with momentary feelings of blacking out. These symptoms, if they are prolonged (particularly if they are associated with loss of consciousness), usually indicate that a sustained arrhythmia is occurring, an experience that should be reported to a doctor), muscle twitches, hand flaps, reduced neural activity, and possibly a raised blood pressure. In severe hypercapnia (generally PaCO2 greater than 100 hPa or 75 mmHg), symptomatology progresses to disorientation, panic, hyperventilation, convulsions, unconsciousness, and eventually death.

Laboratory Values
Hypercapnia is generally defined as a blood gas carbon dioxide level over 45 mmHg. Since carbon dioxide is in equilibrium with bicarbonate in the blood, hypercapnia can also result in a high serum bicarbonate (HCO3-) concentration. Normal bicarbonate concentrations vary from 22 to 28 milligrams per deciliter.

Following this event, I learned that the tender diver received my emergency signal, but violated dive procedures by leaving me to my own devices. This signal requires you to assist the other diver, and maintain eye contact with the other diver all the way to the surface. He motioned for me to follow, and then he ascended all the way to the surface without noticing that I was no longer behind him. It took him a little over two minutes to ascend, during which time I was struggling to get to the surface. I made it to 85 feet before I lost consciousness and sank back to the bottom. Unfortunately, I was still attempting to swim subconsciously, and I swam away from our dive site while sinking back to the bottom. Once he informed the Master Diver of what had transpired, and the fact that I had not surfaced, they all knew they had a very serious situation on their hands. The Master Diver sent the tender diver back down for me immediately. It took him a couple more minutes to descend to the bottom, and another five minutes to find me approximately 150 feet from our intended bottom search location and buoy anchor. He then helped me to clear my mask, inflated my buoyancy compensator, and brought me to the surface. For some reason, he then left me in the water to my own devices again, although my mind was so foggy I did not recall where I was, and I could not figure out who was calling my name!

Unfortunately, I do not remember the names of any of the tender divers. My thoughts of my dive partner that day are bitter sweet. If he had followed proper procedures, he would have brought me to the surface at the onset of my symptoms and avoided most of the dangerous aspect of this dive. He failed to follow basic Navy Dive Protocol by abandoning me. But…. He did return to the bottom, find me, and get me to the surface, thus saving my life.

By all common logic, I should have been dead long before he returned to the bottom to find me. I am actually lucky that he was even able to find me. The visibility was poor, and I could have been in any direction, any distance away from our intended dive site. The fact that he found me, 140’ outside of his visible range is amazing. For me to be unconscious 138’ underwater for eight to ten minutes, on scuba, with a standard regulator in my mouth and survive is unheard of. You could propose this situation to any professional diver and ask them the chances of surviving and the answer would be 0%, across the board. There is not a professional diver on Earth who would evaluate this set of circumstances and predict a survival.

So why am I still here, among the living? The only reason is that I did not lose the regulator out of my mouth, even when unconscious for approximately ten minutes. The fact that my face mask was full of water makes this even more of a mystery. I don’t know if I hit the bottom face first, knocking my mask askew and allowing it to fill with water. I may have tried to pull it off in a subconscious effort. Who knows?? If I had tried to breath through my nose for even one breath, I have no doubt it would have caused me to choke and cough, expelling the regulator from my mouth. I would have surely drowned in that case. The fact that the regulator did not fall out of my mouth when I was unconscious is miraculous in itself. I AM A DEAD MAN WALKING.

I recently read the book called Lone Survivor by Marcus Luttrell. I have spoken about him and his experience in Afghanistan previously in my blog. I won’t go into those details again now, but he described in his book how he felt God’s presence on that fateful day. There is no reason for him to have survived, but he is absolutely sure God was with him. I believe the same occurred for me that day in the Mediterranean. I believe I survived the ‘unsurvivable’ through divine intervention.

Everyone has to confront the following question at some point in their lives:

“Does God exist?”

Basically, you get three options.
1. No, I don’t believe God exists.
2. Yes, I believe God exists, but I’m not going to follow Him.
3. Yes, I believe in God, and I give my life over to Him.

Technically, there is a fourth possibility, and that is for the undecided. I don’t really see that as a true fourth option, but more of a situation where someone is in a holding pattern until they choose one of the three options above.

I have always felt like I had a special purpose in life. I could never put my finger on it, but I always felt as if I were meant to do something beyond just living, doing my job, having kids, paying the bills, etc. I honestly believe I survived that day because God had something planned for me, and I had not yet accomplished whatever it was. I’m not sure what it is about a near-death experience, but it causes one to think about these things. The result of my experience is that I absolutely believe that God exists, and I absolutely believe that He is in control, and has a plan for each of us.
Once you believe in God, you can have varying amounts of faith in Him, in the bible, and in the knowledge that a spiritual realm exists. Surviving a dive that should have killed me is the single biggest event in my life that defines my faith in God. We are all exposed to the thought that God might exist through Sunday School, family or friends who believe, the bible, movies, books, television, and our own innate curiosity.
There is nothing like surviving certain death to create a solid faith in God. That is where my faith comes from, and it grows as I have additional life experiences.

Even if you have never had a potentially deadly experience, you still have to choose one of the three options above regarding God. Which one do you choose?