Nashville union and American. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1868-1875, 1869-09-02
DOWN IN THE SEA.
What Diver Sees, Feels and Thinks
Horrors of the Deep.

Free Press of that city the follow
ing interesting sketch:
1t is a strange business, this div
ing. The danger fascinates some,
but the peril is never for moment
lost sight Of L put on the helmet
for the first time more than ten
years ago, and yet 1 never resumed
it without feeling that it may be
the last time 1 shall ever 90 down.
OF course, one has more confidence
after a while, but there is some-
thing In being shut up in an armor,
weighed down with a hundred
pounds, and knowing that a little
leak in your life pipe is your death,
that no diver can ever get rid of.
And L do not know that l should
care to Danish the feeling, for the
sight of the clear, blue sky, the
genial sun and the face of fellow
man, after long hours among the
fishes, makes you feel like one who
has suddenly been drawn away
from the grasp of death. / have
had some narrow escapes while
pursuing my strange profession !;
every diver has, OF has been unu-
suaily lucky to escape them. L
think the most dangerous place l
ever got into was going down to
examine the propeller Comet,
sunk off Toledo. In work
ing about her bottom, / got my air
pipe coiled over a large silver from
the steven hole and could not reach
1t with my hands. Every time l
sprang up to remove the hose my
tender would give me the 'slack"
OF the line, thus letting me fall back
again. He did not understand his
duties, and did not know what nv
signals on the life line meant. 1t
was two hours and half before I
was relieved, and there wasn't a
moment that was not looking to
see the hose cut by the ragged
WOOD. It's q strange feeling you
have down there. You 90 walking
over a vessel, clambering up her
sides, peering here and there, and
the feeling that you are alone
makes you nervous and uneasy.
Sometimes, vessel sinks down so
fairly that she stands up on the
bottom as trim and as neat as if
she rode on the surface. Then you
can go down into the cabin, mp
the shrouds, walk all over her, Just
as easily as sailor could
if she were still dashing away
before the breeze. Only it
seems so quiet, so tomblike; there
are no waves down there-only
swaying back and forth of the wa
tiers, and q see-sawing of the ship.
You hear nothing from above; the
great fishes will come swimming
about, rubbing their noses against
your glass and staring with won
dertul look into your eyes. The
very stiffness sometimes gives life
chill. You hear just a moaning,
wailing sound, like the last notes CT
an organ, and you can not help but
think of dead men floating over and
around you. l have been down
to rescue the bodies of
those drowned. About four years
ago, the propeller Buckeye, belong
ing to the Northwestern Transpor-
tatiOn Company, went down in the
river st. Lawrence, in seventy
eight feet of water, and it was
known that a mother and child
were asleep in their stateroom at
the time Of her sinking. The faith
er begged Of me and offered me a
good deal of money to take out the
corpses, and though l dreaded the
work, L at last consented. l had
been al over the wreck two or
three times, and 1 knew lust
where the stateroom was.
The door was fast lock-
ed, and l waited a good while
before bursting it open. Of course
q dead person could not harm you,
but even in broad day, on shore, and |
people around you, don't you know
that the sight and presence of dead |
person brings up solemn thoughts |
and nervous feelings? / knew how
hey would look, how they were
boating around in the room, and, if |
The father hadn't been looking so
above, there was no money
TO tempt me in there. But, at last,
[ got croWbar from forwards, and,
not letting myself think, gave the
light door blow that stove it in.
The water came rushing out, the
vessel just then lurched over toward
my side, and out they came, the
woman first, her eyes wide open,
Ind hair trailing behind, and in her
left hand she held the hand of the
child. 1 knew how they would look,
but L screamed out and jumped
back. Her face was fearfully dis
torted, showing how hard death had
been met, and the eyes looked
through tho green waters at me in
a way that made my flesh creep.
The child had died easily, its little
white face giving out no sign of
terror. 1t was a good while before
l fastened the line to them and gave
the signal to haul up, and 1 felt so
uneasy that was not long in fol-
lowing. This is one of the draw
backs to any feeling of curiosity
diver might otherwise have. l
never go down the hatchway or the
cabin steps without thinking of a
dead man floating about there.
A diver does not like to go down
more than a hundred and twenty
feet at that depth the pressure is
painful and there is danger of inl-
ternal injury. l can stay down for
five or six hours at time at hun
dred and fifteen or twenty feet, and
do a good deal of hard work. In
the waters of Lake Huron, the diver
can see thirty or forty feet away,
but the other lakes will screen q
vessel not ten feet from you.
Up here you seldom think of
accident or death, but a hundred
feet of water washing over your
head would set you to thinking. A
little stoppage of your air pump, a
leak in your hose, careless action
on the part OF your tender, and the
weight of a mountain would press
the life out ofyOu before you could
make q move. And Won NAV