Evening star., 1938-05-22

ested all summer. and went back to school
that fall still determined to be a deep-sea
diver.
Just before my final exams that year
heard about Phillips Lord and his projected
adventure trip around the world in a four
masted schooner. the Seth Parker. Thatly
appealed to my imagination. managed toI
see Lord and sold him on the idea of seeking
smken treasures in the Caribbean So thred
weeks before the final exams walked out of
school. and few days later was on my way,
with my commercial diving suits and my
miniature sub tucked safely aboard.
For the next seven months | was STEPPED
in adventure. We sailed down through the
West Indies and Bahamas and although we
didn't find any chests of gold, saw many
things that Ill never forget. If you've ever
been in Bermuda or Nassau and looked
through those glass-bottom boats at the coral
reefs below. you know what mean.
In all my search for adventure beneath the
seas, never came as close to death as did on
sunken yacht off Cape Cod the following
year. 1t was only about thirty feet down. and
we anchored our salvage ship directly over
the wreck. Our temporary pump was small
affair." so didn't get an awful lot of air.
Landing on the deck of the yacht, slipped
down through hatch and went into the main
cabin. Then l squeezed through narrow
doorway leading to the owners cabin | was
already painting because of the small capacity
of the pump
Cropping around in the dark l suddenly
realized that my air had stopped entirely.
Something had happened to my air hose
had to move in hurry to untangle my fouled
lines got through the main cabin and out
through the hatch on deck, all the time re-
breathing the foul air in my helmet. After
was certain l was clear of the wreck, gave
four yanks on the emergency line and passed
out Hours later | came to on the deck of the
tender. Later we found that valve had stuck
in the pump.
1t was narrow escape and it brought home
to me the extreme danger of deep-sea diving
in the conventional suit. The air hose is both
life and death to diver. A tiny leak, fouled
line, stubborn valve - any of these things
may spell death. As result of this experience
l started work again on a self contained
diving suit that had experimental with for
several years.
While was still working on my new equip
ment, prohibition ended in the United States
and was granted federal permit to salvage
a sunken rumrunner, the John Dwight.
down in about ITO feet of water between
Martha's Vineyard and Guilty Hunk. That
salvage job might well be called the mystery
of the vanished Scotch.
When the Dwight went down, she was said
to have about S35O,OOO worth of high grade
Scotch whisky aboard and $225.OOO in cash
in the safe. The money and whisky were all
mine if could get it.
We thought we had the Dwight exactly
located on the chart - but it took long weeks
of dragging before we finally found the wreck
Then we anchored and prepared to 90 to
work. got in my suit and started down.
The currents were so bad that had diff
Guilty hanging on to my descending line. and
when got to the bottom, couldn't do a
thing. Every time got set to make move.
the drag on my air hose would pull me off my
feet Finally, after days of experiment, we
found that by putting $50 pounds of lead on
my chest, was anchored enough to work:
For months I struggled down there in the
murky water, before finally pried off hatch.
And there. just below me, could see thou
sands of bottles. Elated. grabbed handful
and sent them tOpSide, following them up