Life Below The Galapagos, Part 4

Digital Dan Dubno Ships Out And Prepares For His Deep-Sea Dive

(CBS)  The following is the conclusion of my four-part series on the scientific expedition I've joined to explore the Galapagos Rift.

Bottom-Dwelling
On the Woods Hole Research Vessel Atlantis there are many routines. For the six-man Alvin dive team, they begin at 5:30 a.m. preparing the deep-ocean submersible for the dive at 8:00 am. Every surface, every system, every joint, tube, and wire is checked. There is no room for error. Each member of the Alvin team knows by heart diagrams of 200 complex systems; they frequently troubleshoot and repair the submersible in the midst of dives at depths no other vehicle on earth can assist them. Tubes with wires are filled with uncompressible oil; leaks in systems are carefully examined; electrical checks, lighting checks, battery checks, and mechanical arm checks go on and on. Alvin pilots are usually not "scientists." But wise scientists respect the pilots' superior experience and judgment because these brave explorers visit such remarkable undersea treasures every day.

Before the Alvin is sent off the back of mother-ship Atlantis, scientists, like frenzied crabs, descend to shove as many sensors and collection devices as possible on the basket in front of the sub. The dive team loads in the few pillowcases nervously packed the night before by today's Alvin explorers. These bags are full of warm clothes bottom-dwellers will need as the sphere descends to the chilly depths.

Just try to sleep. I dare you to try. Aboard the Atlantis, in a berth rocking with the ocean, divers-to-be are understandably nervous. In a handful of hours, we will be on our way to the ocean floor with pressure so enormous my dive watch would have imploded at just a tenth of the way down. Styrofoam coffee cups crush to the size of thimbles. The night, scientists and crew make keepsakes for friends and relatives: taking waterproof ink to Styrofoam cups drawing ornate illustrations ... then placing these totems into a mesh bag hung outside the Alvin for the dive down below. After the cups are exposed to 250 atmospheres(!) of pressure below the waves, the mesh bag, once full of good-sized cups, hangs limply with tiny timble sculptures of ocean art. I came prepared: the head of the CBS art department kindly illustrated a cup with my handsome face and a picture of Alvin. And, while I was at it, I brought several dozen other cups to crush for schools, friends, and complete strangers I couldn't stop telling about my upcoming dive.