THE EXPERIENCES OF A DIVER.
The quality that a diver needs more than any other is presence of mind. Without a man possesses this, he should never enter a diving-suit; for if there is any place in the world where one wants a clear head, it is under water. There is an uncanny feeling about the bottom of the sea, a lonesomeness that causes one to start at the sudden appearance of a dark mass of rock, or the unexpected touch of a sea finger, and a vague feeling of apprehension that something may come out of the blue of the distance. Far removed from actual communication with other human beings, in a vast, strange world, where every form is so different from earthly conditions that it seems unnatural ; living under an abnormally high pressure, which in itself alters the aspect of things, the sense of loneliness, combined with a certain dread, is at times awful. The timid man on earthmay keep up his spirits with a lively whistle, but a diver cannot even do that ; as, for some reason, it is not possible to whistle inside a diving diess. He may hum or sing, to be sure, only that takes too much breath, and in the end he settles down to listening to his own quick breathing and the distant thump of the pump above.
Neither can diving be called a healthy occupation. Deafness, incipient paralysis and rheumatism are common features; while divers with any inclination towards lung or heart disease live but a tew months. The beta noire of the Australian pearl fisheries, however, are the terrible cyclones that yearly visit the coast. To these is due the loss of more property and the death of more divers than all the the other causes combined. Sharks are not nearly so black as they are painted. Though plentiful, and with a decided liking for native divers, they have never been known to attack a man in a dress. In spite of this fact, one cannot help feeling frightened when one comes face to face with this tiger of the sea; particularly when, through the magnification of the water and the face-glass, the fish is almost double in size. One’s first thought upon seeing a shark is to be pulled up or to take to your heels; but, as fish have sufficient human nature about them to want a thing as soon as they see it being taken away, it is safer to stand perfectly still. In fear that my bare hands might attract the maneating propensity that sharks are supposed to have, I invariably tucked them carefully under my breast-weight, and when the fish had disappeared, gave the signal to ascend, kicking violently all the way up. If a diver remains quiet, he is quickly surrounded by an admiring crowd of fish, opening their eyes and mouths like curious countrymen. The smaller ones have assurance enough to nibble at his fingers ; but let him throw
up his arms, and with a flourish of tails they vanish. As the pearling fleet is dependent to a certain extent upon fish for food, the diver never misses an opportunity to bag anything edible. Crayfish are easily caught, and make quite an agreeable addition to the ordinary diet. Turtles, too, are plentiful, and being fresh meat are valued more than fish.
The memory of my first tussle with one of these animals (says 11. Phelps Whitworth, in the Strand Magazine) is impressed very vividly on my mind. I had been told to approach the creature quietly from beliinl, grasp the edges of the shell, then lift it quickly to my chest, and give the signal to be pulled up. By so doing, I was given to understand that the turtle’s head, being pointed upward, could not move in any other direction ; and that, therefore, the journey to the surface would bo a short one, as the turtle’s flippers would be powerful enough to take me up without any other aid. Accordingly, when I saw my first turtle, I feeding’ quietly on a patch of sea-grass some distance ahead, I made a circuitous path and crept cautiously up behind it. By the size of the barnacles on its back I knew it was an old one, and it looked tremendous ; but I put that down to the faceglass. When I was within a few yards of the game, whether it was the bubbles from my escape valve or the heavy tread of my 32-pounders that scared it, is a question ; but suddenly up shot the turtle’s bead. I ducked immediately behind a spongegrowth, and crouched there with beating heart, fearing that my opportunity was gone. In a few moments he lesumed eating, and without waiting for further developments, 1 made a run and a jump and landed fairly on the tunic's back. In stretching out my hands to get under the shell I must have fumbled. Before I had a chance to raise the monster I felt my feet being dragged over the bottom, and a moment later I awoke to the fact that m3' intended capture had captured me, and was swimming away with me at astonishing speed. Away we went, the turtle ; trying to leave me behind and I hanging on with might and main. In vain I tried to point the old fellow’s head towards the boat —he would have none of it. Drop, I dare not; for the bottom was out of sight, and I feared I should fall heavily. Signal I could not; my hands were very much engaged. While in this state of uncertainty wo came to the end of our tether—the limit of the life-line. Then j there was a sudden jerk, and we parted company. The turtle continued on his : way and I fell headlong down. Luckily I j struck on a large sponge-growth, and thus broke my fall; but J. was a good deal shaken up, and was hauled up looking very seedy and feeling sme that it would be a long time before I tackled another turtle. Fishing on the bottom is carried on to quite an extent. Leaving one end of the J line in charge of a “ boy ” on deck, the diver descends with hook and bait and conceals himself among the rocks or seagrowths. Instead of dropping his hook, after the usual method of fishermen, he floats it a few feet above his head, by means of a piece of wood brought down
for the purpose. Tf a shark or other objectionable fish heaves in sight, he hauls down his colours in double-quick time; but if it be a rock cod, a schnapper or any of the large edible fish which abound in those waters, he tightens tip his escape valve for a minute, lest a bubble frighten the fish, and hangs on to the line with both hands. As soon as the fish has the hook fairly in its mouth, a sharp pull hooks it, and at a signal to the “boy 5 ' above, the big fellow goes struggling to the surface.
One of the most ludici'ous and yet annoying things that happen to a diver is the discovery that a fly or other insect has been screwed up inside the dress. It is bad enough for his nose tc itch, and be unable to scratch it, or for him to find something in his eye and be without means of taking it out; but when a fly that has been concealed in some part of the dress begins to crawl deliberately over his face, and play hide-and-seek up his nostrils, it is simply maddening. It is useless to butt the face-glass or wildly knock your head against the inside of the helmet, or to make hideous faces, for all this only tends to make the insect more lively, and hurries it, in its excitement, into your ear or elsewhere. The only thing to bo done in such a case is to shut eyes and mouth as closely as can be, and give the signal to ascend.
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New Zealand Mail, Issue 1290, 19 November 1896, Page 9
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1,347THE EXPERIENCES OF A DIVER. New Zealand Mail, Issue 1290, 19 November 1896, Page 9
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