Note: I plan to write a book about the making of Denizens of the Deep. The working title for the book is Diving with Denizens. Unlike most books that are written after the fact, this one will be written as the adventure unfolds. During the next year, I will publish several of the first draft chapters from this unfinished work here on this website. As I write this Denizens, both the book and the IMAX 3D movie are unfinished stories.

Click here for a cast of characters

Diving with Denizens
Chapter Four
September 24, 2004 Howard Hall

©Peter Kragh

Diving at night is most disquieting when you’re in the open sea hanging far above an ocean floor many fathoms beyond diving range, and even more forbidding when the water is murky. You feel exposed hanging in the dark murk, easily disoriented, largely blind, and knowing all sorts of creatures with more sophisticated senses are watching from below.

I’m experiencing a familiar awe as I watch our team go into action in these difficult conditions. Richard Hermann, John Dunham, and Dave Forsyth are first in the water diving open circuit as the Solmar V crew hoists the camera over the top deck rail and lowers it rapidly to the water. Geronimo, who operates the crane, does so with sudden sure movements. The faster the camera is lifted and lowered, the less time it has to begin swinging in a deadly pendulous motion. We lost control of it night before last. Michele said it was the most frightening thing she had ever seen at sea. Solmar was resting broadside in a gentle swell. As the camera came up on the crane, it began to swing. In moments it was swinging in an enormously terrifying arch that threatened to smash the vessel’s superstructure, the camera, and any of the half dozen people trying to help control the camera. Had we damaged the camera housing, we would be out of business. There is no replacement. And at a development cost of $350,000, a new housing would be problematic. Worse, someone might have been caught between the steel hull and the 1,500 pound camera. That would have been catastrophic.

As the camera swung wildly away from the boat, Geronimo suddenly lowered the crane and the camera crashed into the ocean. Michele, who had sought refuge on the opposite side of the boat’s upper deck, was screaming to be careful of the divers in the water. We got lucky and the camera didn’t come down on anyone. Since this incident we’ve been much more careful about using multiple ropes to belay the camera against the rocking of the boat.

I strapped on my 15.5 Biomarine rebreather and stood up on deck just as the camera reached the water. The launch and recovery team were unhooking the camera as I strapped on my fins and dropped into the murky darkness. I checked the secondary and primary gauges on my rebreather and began to descend to where Mark Thurlow was stationed on a weighted line we used as a point of reference in the darkness.

Mark, Bob, and I were diving rebreathers because for all practical purposes they never run out of breathing gas. The rebreathers are cumbersome and especially awkward when attempting to ascend or descend quickly. Night before last, Bob wanted to try open circuit scuba tanks so that we would have better mobility. He ran out of air before we finished the camera roll and we had to abort early. Now we’re back to using the rebreathers.

The rebreathers also allow better underwater communications since voice transmissions are not compromised by the intermittent roar of scuba exhaust bubbles. Ocean Technologies Systems has provided our communications gear for many years and we have all new systems for this trip - all prototype systems. Unfortunately, we didn’t get much of this new gear until days before leaving on this trip and some of it has serious bugs. Fortunately, we have just enough back-ups to get by.

Dave, and Richard brought the camera down to the reference line and Mark tethered it off. John brought down the movie lights and Bob and I mounted them over the camera. Richard then returned to the boat to supervise the baiting process that was attracting the squid. Peter Kragh and John soon appeared on either side of the camera with plastic tubes filled with additional live baits.

Visibility was terrible and soon swarms of tiny shrimp were buzzing around the lights and making visibility even worse. There was nothing to be done about conditions. We had to go with what we had.

     “Surface, copy,” I keyed on my transmitter.

     “Copy,” replied Toni Myers (co-producer with Michele) somewhat tentatively. She had taken over surface communications so that Michele was free to dive. We hoped to get a shot of Michele swimming with the big squid and she needed to be prepared to dive. So, Toni officially became part of the underwater team.

      ”We’re all ready to begin shooting. Mark, begin releasing some bait. Peter and John, are you both ready?” I asked. I saw both of them nod their heads.

A swarm of frozen sardines began drifting out in front of the camera as Mark released them from a position ten feet above the camera. Soon squid began to appear, dashing into the light to grab up the food. As they competed for each sardine, they flashed their colors at each other angrily. It looked like they were being illuminated by a flashing strobe.

©Peter Kragh

Making the decision on when to actually run the camera is difficult. The camera load is only three minutes long. It costs $10,000 to purchase, process and print that 2,000 feet of film. And it has been taking nearly an hour to change film once the load has been exposed. On this dive our plan was to turn the camera on and allow the action to happen as Peter and John released the live baits. Since it takes nearly five seconds for the camera to ramp up to running speed once the trigger has been pressed, it is very difficult to anticipate the action.

I pressed the run switch then keyed my microphone. “Camera is running, Peter and John let the baits go.”
As fast as they could, Peter and John released baits. Many went behind the camera. Some went above it. Some went below. Most swam away quickly and were taken by squid far outside the camera’s field of view as cameraman Bob Cranston and I struggled with the huge aluminum beast to follow the action.

Two swam out in front of the camera and were nailed by squid. I was thrilled. We had been down less than thirty minutes and we had a couple of good shots and were out of film.

      “Surface copy,” I called.

      “Copy,” Toni came back.

      “We got a couple shots, I think. We’re out of film. Recover all gear,” I said.

      “Copy, recover all gear,” Toni confirmed.

Soon Dave, John, and Richard were swimming the camera away from Bob and me. Mark was helping to push The Beast toward the starboard side of the boat. Bob and I ascended and climbed back on board.

While Stuart and Mike rushed to load up the camera for another dive, Toni, Michele and I reviewed the Hi-8 video tape to see if we did get the shot we wanted. The quality of the video was terrible and it could not confirm if our focus and exposure had been accurate. But it did tell us that we had captured the action in the frame. The baits were taken pretty far from the camera, possibly too far to be exposed properly and in focus. We’d have to wait until the footage was processed.

At 2am we were back in the water with a fresh load, descending toward the reference line. Conditions had changed dramatically. Visibility had dropped to about ten feet. The swarm of mysid shrimp became so dense it was difficult to see anything.

And the squid were gone.

We baited heavily for nearly an hour, but the squid never returned. Three times a dense swarm of sardines rushed up to the camera to feed on the mysid shrimp. I decided this might be a good shot and pressed the run switch. In each case, as the camera came up to running speed, the sardines dashed away back into the depths. By the time the camera was running, they were gone.

The sound of the boat generator was suddenly so load it hurt my ears. We had drifted underneath he Solmar and I could look up and see the two huge propellers directly above us. Light cables and safety lines were becoming hopelessly entangled. Dave, John, Mark, and Richard were struggling to free the lines and push the camera clear. It wasn’t working.

Suddenly I became aware of another noise. Overwhelmed by the cacophony created by the Solmar generator, it took me a minute to recognize the sound.

The camera was running!

I moved to the side of the camera and found the run switch and pressed it to off. I had just shot half a roll of film, about $5,000 worth, of nothing at all.

      “Surface copy, recover all gear,” I said.

      “Copy, recovering all gear,” replied Toni.

The squid didn’t return that night.

It’s noon and we’re just now pulling away from the harbor at Santa Rosalia and heading back out to San Marcos Island. Captain Pedro needed to make a pit stop for additional food supplies. It will take us about two hours to get out to the island. The good news is that the wind is down. Ever since the passing of hurricane Javier, the wind has blown like stink all day, only diminishing well after sunset. The strong wind has prevented us from working at the best sites and I believe this has contributed to our seeing fewer squid than expected and having to work in poor water visibility. Today the wind is only blowing about ten knots. Our plan is to get back out to the island where we want to resume the testing of lenses we started on our first day out but failed to complete when the camera jammed. Then tonight we hope to work a new and better place for the squid.

Everyone is very tired after diving literally all night for several days now. Last night we quit at 4pm but some of the crew were so keyed up they stayed on deck for a safety meeting. A safety meeting inaccurately describes an informal gathering often focused around a bottle of wine or, in this case, a bottle of Glenmorangie single malt scotch whiskey that that John had brought along. I was too whipped to participate.

This morning everyone seems in good spirits if not in perfect physical condition. John ruptured a sinus last night and may not be able to dive today. Bob is having trouble with his right ear. The big camera wrecks havoc on ears and sinuses. Once it starts descending, it takes considerable time to arrest the movement due to the 1,500 pounds of mass. Crew members are dragged along with it as they struggle to stop the descent and clear their ears at the same time. It’s easy to get an ear or sinus squeeze under those conditions. It will be especially tough if Bob can’t continue.