I was woken up at four am on the 10th of June, it was still dark outside but we needed to be on the Explorer by five so Nuno could be in the water by six. His dive was scheduled to be just over twelve hours long, most of which would be spent decompressing. After a quick breakfast we climbed aboard the ever-present jeeps and headed for the harbour. We arrived to find the spectator vessel tied up next to the NABQ Explorer. The second boat had become necessary to accommodate an extra film crew from Russia and a number of representatives from our sponsors who wanted to witness the dive.
As I’ve explained already, Nuno’s 150 meter dive was in essence a dress rehearsal for this one. Imagine our surprise when the Egyptian police told us that we could not launch. Their reason, if you could call it that, was that we had one too many people aboard the boat. We were very puzzled as you can imagine because we had the same crew as the previous dive. The atmosphere grew very tense. Our Egyptian hosts were quickly on the phone to the owner of the boat. Happily after some very heated exchanges in Arabic, we were aloud to leave the harbour. We had to launch as soon as possible, especially given that the same high winds of the last few days were forecast for today, so we had to get Nuno underwater before the swells became too large to do it safely. We didn’t need to be told twice I can tell you. The NABQ Explorer immediately put to sea and headed for the GPS co-ordinates we called Nuno 1. At just after seven, Nuno was sitting on the dive platform at the stern of the boat. He was fully kitted up with his huge quad set (four eighteen litre tanks) on his back and three stage bottles attached by Andrzej and Zibi. Finally he was ready to get into the water - or should I say 'be helped' into the water. Even at that early stage I saw that the swells were already starting to get bigger. I knew we were in for a rough day at sea.
Whilst Nuno was being helped into his kit, Pieter Venter and I checked our own equipment. We would be the first of the support divers into the water after Nuno and even though Pieter was only due to meet Nuno some forty minutes into his dive we needed to be ready to go. Then it was time.
Nuno descends on his record attempt in June 2005
The last few minutes before such a complex and dangerous dive are always emotional. One is filled with anticipation, focused on your own equipment and tasks and yet, for those few minutes, you reflect that this is it, Nuno’s last chance to abort the dive. Once he was in the water and passed about 60 metres he’d be committed to the twelve hours decompression schedule, whether or not he’d reached his goal. At a push we could rework his decompression schedule if he had to abandon the dive very early on. For now that was the furthest thing from our minds. Nuno indicated that all was well and he was pushed into the water. So it was, with a somewhat less that graceful splash, that Nuno set off on his way into history again. His two snorkel support divers, Sean and Gareth, stuck close to him as he swam slowly over to the shot-line. And then he was gone.
Rather than wait around on the now very unsteady deck of the boat, Pieter and I again decided to get in well in advance and wait just below the red buoy that was holding up the shot-line. Like Nuno we sat on the dive platform and were helped into the water by Andrzej and Zibi. We dropped into the water and swam over to the buoy. One last nod at each other, and we released the air from our BC’s and allowed ourselves to sink down to about five metres, just enough to keep us out of the gathering swells.
Looking up through the crystal clear water I could see the boats hull. The support divers’ legs dangled over the dive platform. Looking down, the only evidence we had of anyone below us was a tell-tale string of bubbles well off to the side of the shot-line. A clear indicator that, even far below us, the current was very strong. At this point we had no way of knowing if Nuno was still alive.
Pieter waited about ten minutes before signalling to me that he was going to begin his dive proper. His objective was to meet Nuno at 124 metres. Down and down I watched
him follow the line. Eventually he merged with the blue universe around me and all I could see were his bubbles as they pushed their way through the water column to the surface. It was now about thirty five minutes into the dive. Alone with my thoughts at five metres, I pondered the greatness of the ocean around me, it was incredible to think that my friend would be the first person ever to dive below 310 metres. I could not allow myself to consider the option of failure. I had to believe he would be back.
Then I had to leave my station and make my way down to 60 metres to meet Pieter on his decompression. Like the first dive, I carried a cylinder of oxygen for him to decompress with later. It was critical that he got it. If I failed to deliver it to him his decompression schedule would go longer than he had gas to breathe. He would either get seriously bent or drown. As I drifted down the line, the only sound I could hear was the exhaust bubbles from my own breathing. Although I had no way of knowing whose bubbles they were, I was glad to see the stream of bubbles was still solidly rising off to the side of the line. I looked down expectantly. I knew that Pieter was due to release a buoy with two tags attached.
According to the plan, Pieter would attach the appropriate combination of tags to let the surface know what was happening. He had three tags: “OK”, “New Record”, and “Alert”. In theory, if I saw two tags, then Nuno had reached his goal depth and with it a new world record, if I saw only one, then something had gone wrong. That would be as much as I’d know until I met Pieter.
Then I saw something; a blurry movement far below me. It got bigger and bigger and moved rapidly up towards me. Too small and too fast to be a diver, it had to be Pieter’s signal buoy! The partially inflated buoy bucked and flipped like a balloon with the bottom open and I feared it would flip over and empty itself of the air carrying it to the surface. But it carried on up, ever upwards towards the blue ceiling 50 metres above me. I could clearly see there were two tags! Nuno was okay and he had gone deeper than John Bennett’s previous record of 308 metres. Exactly how deep would have to wait for later, when we had independent people verify the depth by measuring the line. Fairly soon after the buoy went past me I saw Pieter’s helmet light shining at me as he looked up the line. In a few minutes he was level with me and he gave me the sign that both he and Nuno were okay.
Pieter Venter and myself decompressing after Pieter met Nuno
Polish Diver Robert (rhs), Nuno (centre) and me (lhs)
Film producer Valentina with camera and Nuno in the middle during his 12 hours of decompression.
As soon as Pieter’s buoy broke the surface a small zodiac was dispatched to recover the tags and learn the fate of Nuno Gomes. It fell to my old friend and team-mate, Theo van Eeden to reach into the sea and grab the buoy. I was told afterwards that the moment the rest of the team saw Theo’s jubilant reaction to the two tags they knew Nuno had succeeded! The first hurdle had been overcome, now all we needed to do was make sure that Nuno survived the rest of the dive to tell us all about it later.
For the next ten hours Nuno made his way from one decompression stop to the next. During these stops, which varied from a few minutes to over three hours, he was always accompanied by at least two members of the support team. For the rest of us back on the NABQ Explorer life was distinctly uncomfortable. The wind continued to pick up speed and with it the ocean swells. At one stage I was standing on the upper deck, about four and a half metres from the water level, when I noticed Dave literally body surfing down a swell to get back on board. He was almost parallel with me at the time.
With swells of between four and five metres it was not surprising that almost everyone was affected by sea sickness. I managed by using the old trick of eating plain white bread (provided for lunch) and drinking lots of coca-cola. For some reason this has always helped me fend off sea sickness.
Hour after hour we followed the red buoy that marked the location of the shot-line and then the two smaller ones that held up the oxygen tree. At roughly two hour intervals support divers, coordinated by Lenne´, would rotate. Each team of relief divers took down decompression gas and liquid foo
d and drink to Nuno. At about five in the afternoon I went in for a second stint of the day. I was expecting an hour in the water. Myself and Polish diver Robert ended up spending two hours between six metres and the surface. The heavy swells had taken their toll on Nuno and he was by now nearing exhaustion. With some difficulty he managed to signal to us to try and support his arms
as he hung on the decompression bars. In spite of our efforts I could see he was still taking strain.
Realising that if the tree could somehow be towed, the effect of the swells on Nuno, Robert and I could be minimised, the surface team attached a rope between the tree and the zodiac. Pieter Venter appeared between the marker buoys and via hand signals from the surface explained to us what was happening. Very slowly they began to tow us towards the shore. I have to admit it helped a great deal to be underway. The moment we stopped I was back fighting to keep stage bottles from banging Nuno and me on the head and helping to support him. On his side of the bar Robert had a similar problem.
Eventually the time for Nuno to surface arrived and he began to ascend the final few metres to the surface. We broke the surface in the gathering dusk. Jubilant cheers greeted us from everyone on both support boats. Almost before we had a chance to say anything willing hands where helping Nuno get off his quad set and back on board the boat. Then it was our turn. Finally, after twelve gruelling hours at sea, it was done.
With everyone back on the Explorer we headed back to the harbour. Even in the low light we could see the quayside crowded with well-wishers and admirers. It seemed that all of Dahab had come to greet us. They cheered rapturously as Nuno, exhausted from his long day underwater, was helped from the boat by Leigh Cunningham (himself a previous Red Sea record holder: 250m in 2003). Many willing hands helped us unload the Explorer and we climbed aboard the jeeps for one last time and were driven back to the hotel. After such an intense day everyone was tired, but no one could sleep. After a brief rest and showers we went off to Adam’s Bar to celebrate. It’s amazing how one beer and a good meal can make one suddenly very tired. I remember I pretty much headed back to an early bed right after dinner. At the end of such an incredible, or be it intense day, everyone was not only elated at Nuno’s record, but even more importantly, relieved that the entire team was safe. Having been a part of Nuno’s team and involved in these expeditions for so long, we knew only too well how tragically these extreme dives could end. One final important task remained to be done before we could say the job was done. To confirm the depth Nuno had reached we had to have the shot-line measured. Under the watchful eye of a group of independent observers including members of the medical team, the hotel staff, at least one policeman and a video cameraman recording the process, the line was carefully unpacked and laid it out on the ground. Then, with a very accurate measuring tape it was measured. The length came to 318.25 metres. This depth was ultimately ratified by the Guinness Book of Records who gave Nuno a certificate and indicated that he would be in the next edition of the famous book. That meant that Nuno is in the book twice. Once for his 1996 dive in Boesmansgat to 282.6 metres which made him the deepest cave dive, and now again for the deepest ocean dive. Once again, Nuno’s careful preparations and methodical approach to diving had paid off. If we as a team demonstrate anything to the rest of the diving world, I think they need to take that message away. If they want to stretch their personal limits, they should do it in as careful and systematic a manner as practical. Their lives will depend on it.
A jubilant international team celebrates Nuno’s achievement
Epilogue
Twelve years of diving, time to reflect
July 12 2005, almost a month since we returned from the Dahab, and once again I’ve found the transition from diving expedition team member to normal life as a Professional Business Analyst a little strange. It’s something I’ve thought about often, trying to pin-point exactly what it is that I find so hard to fit back into. Spending everyday in the high-pressure world of IT, I found myself sitting in meetings, listening to the various speakers raise this or that important point. Pretty soon I’m drifting off, back to Dahab and the endless deep blue zone. To a place where the only really important issues are those that can save a life. My experiences on this expedition, like all those I’ve been on in the past, really reinforces my belief that what is important in our lives are not so much the things we’ve acquired or even the heights (or should I say depths) that we reach. Rather it’s the people who help us become who we are, who share a part of themselves with us as we voyage through this adventure called life. I call them my friends - indeed my family. When you know that the last word you say to someone might be - well, the last word you ever say to them, you learn to think more before making some thoughtless comment. The ocean is also always a reminder of how really small human beings are in the grand scheme of things. Drifting along at 50 or 60 metres in a vast blue space I feel like an astronaut, I can see life all around me. With every surge of the ocean I feel its power and marvel in its creation. As a diver I’m privileged to see that no matter how clever we get, there are some things that we as a species will probably never be able to control. The wind and the water are forever rushing upon the shore. The tide shows us that everything is temporary and yet life itself is constant.
How long is a piece of string?
It was a very strange sensation, when less than a month after our record-breaking expedition I learned that Pascal Bernabe’, a French diver, claimed to have dived to 330 metres in Corsica. I have no idea whether he has in fact done such an incredible dive. I’m not sure if Bernabe’s claim played a role in Nuno’s decision to have the shot line from the Red Sea reassessed by an independent organisation, but he did. Professor Walter Burdzik from the Department of Civil & Biosystems Engineering and a team of scientists from the University of Pretoria conducted a set of carefully designed experiments to determine how much the line might have stretched under the additional weight of all the stage tanks we placed on it. Professor Burdzik and his team were convinced that Nuno had in fact dived to the astounding depth of 321.81 metres. In his opinion this was a conservative estimate. Their objectivity and professionalism is good enough for me. Unfortunately Guinness seemed to think that the analysis came too long after the actual dive for them to change their record. Not that it matters, according to the Guinness book of records, Nuno Gomes is still the deepest scuba diver in the world. I should point out that I've since learned that Guinness no longer recognises some of the activities or achievements it has in previous years. Apparently due to the danger involved in these activities. At the time of writing details are still sketchy about Bernabe’s dive. But the mere fact that it was so soon after Nuno’s 321.81 metres dive felt suspicious to me. I felt bad for my friend, even though it was bound to happen sometime. For me personally it was something I expected to see in maybe a year or two. I’m still trying to find some detail about the dive, some proof that a human being actually did a dive to 330 metres and survived unscathed. I would never be so arrogant as to assume that Nuno went to the very limit of human ability. But in all fairness I think I must adopt the same stand as the Guinness Records organisation; until I see objective proof of any dive deeper than 318.25 metres, Nuno Gomes will hold the record. If Bernabe’ can prove his dive I’m sure that Nuno and his team will be the first to congratulate him on what we, more than most, know, would be a truly incredible achievement. As of June 2009 Nuno’s record dive stands as the one that Guinness recognises.
And of the future?
What of my future in technical diving? Well the camera still beckons me. I’d very much like to develop my underwater video skills. The spark Jacques Cousteau set off so long ago is still very bright. I think for me the best part of diving is being able to show other people, who do not have the privilege of diving, the life beneath the oceans and caves of the world. I’ve been lucky enough to see first-hand how precious the environment beneath the waves is. In the team we’ve talked about the possibility of diving some wre
cks that no one ever has. It would be great to keep the team together and change our focus back to exploration rather than the pursuit of a depth almost for its own sake.
Safe diving
Perth
October 2007 November 200 9
Nuno’s Guinness Book Certificate (Courtesy of Nuno Gomes)
Appendices
A. Equipment considerations.
One of the most interesting aspects of technical diving and in particular cave diving is the vast array of specialist equipment that one sees around. Over the years we’ve tried and tested many different tank configurations, regulator makes, equipment placement, as well as torch and reel design. What I propose to do in this section is give the reader an overview of the current configuration of my own equipment. I’ll also explain some of the reasons why I do things the way I do. In some cases our group has agreed with global trends, in others not. But always we’ve tried to have a good think about why we’ve chosen one way or another.
A very fundamental point that every cave diver has drummed into his thinking is the need for redundancy in his equipment. Basically have at least two of everything, except torches, of which you should have at least three. This means two independent regulators, two sources of a breathable gas and two buoyancy devices. In addition, every cave diver needs to have at least one line reel and a number of line-arrows that he uses to mark the way out of the cave. Sheck Exley spoke of ten rules of cave diving in his classic book, “Basic Cave Diving” first published in 1979. All the points I’ve mentioned above are in this list. All I can stress is that Sheck Exley literally wrote the book for the rest of the world to follow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any book on cave diving that did not derive its basic tenets from Exley. He was truly a legend in the arena of cave diving.
Into The Deepest And Darkest Page 16