Diving can have its hazards...

I was sitting at my usual spot over at Charlie’s Beachside Bar when I met the luckiest man alive. At least that’s what the newspapers had called him, the luckiest man alive, Jason Smith was his actual name. He had limped in and sat down next me, not looking anywhere but straight ahead. He had ordered a single malt scotch, Glenfiditch, straight up, neat with water on the side. After the first he had ordered a second, halfway through it he visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumped a bit and his jaw, which had been clenched tightly between short sips of the peaty liquor and a chase of water, relaxed, the muscles no longer tightly defined.

“Feeling better?” I had asked, just being friendly. I have to admit I was a bit curious, after all you don’t sit next to someone who supposedly came back from the dead every day.

When he turned towards me I noticed his eyes. His eyes where a deep blue, the blue of oceans where they plummet to the deeps like off of the Turks and Caicos islands where the water drops from 20 feet to nearly 3000. They were haunted though, like he was really not there, at Charlie’s, sitting next to a complete stranger who had just spoken. His eyes focused on me, coming back from wherever he had been.

“What?” He took another quick sip of the scotch.

“You looked lost there for a moment, you look better now.”

“Lost…yes…maybe I am.”

I was beginning to feel I was getting in out of my depth, but my curiosity was still strong.

“I suppose you want to know.” He said it simply, finishing the second Scotch and following it with a long drink of water, he signaled to the bartender for another and then reached into his shirt pocket, and, pulling a cigarette from the pack there, he placed it in his mouth and lit it.

“Know what?”

He looked at me for a moment, those eyes now almost so dark blue they were nearly black. I have to admit they were terrifying in a way. He smiled, but it never reached his eyes. “Come on, let’s sit over there.” The barkeep brought the third scotch, I signaled him to put it on my tab and to serve me another Killian Red.

We moved over to a booth in the back, away from prying eyes. “I suppose you know who I am.” He said it simply.

“Er, yes, I’m Bill Williams, nice to meet you Jason”

He smiled again. “Bill.” He shook the hand I offered, his grip was strong, his hand callused.

“I suppose you know the story, up to a point.” He took a deep drag from the cigarette as he studied me.

“Just what was in the newspapers.”

He laughed, if a laugh could sound like crying, this one did. “Oh yeah, Luckiest Man Alive, that’s me.”

“Coming back from the dead, that’s pretty lucky.”

“I didn’t”, he said it softly.

“What?”

He leaned closer, “I didn’t come back from the dead.”

I must have looked rather incredulous. “They said you drown, disappeared for four days, then got found floating and alive, there were witnesses saw you sucked down.”

He sat back and smiled again, “All true as far as it goes.”

Jason had been part of a team checking out a new scuba rebreather, a rebreather allows a diver to reuse his own air by cleaning out the CO2 and bleeding a small bit of oxygen back into the airstream. The new model was supposedly able to crack the CO2 and reuse the resulting oxygen, supposedly it could last hours before the diver would need to return to the surface.

The test had been going great when “it” happened. What “it” was, was never determined exactly but it was theorized that a sudden shift in the thermo cline (the temperature layer between the warm and cold levels) had resulted in the flashing of methane “slush” just beneath the surface layer of sediment on the bottom to gas, anyway, suddenly Jason was swallowed into a turbulent, writhing mass of white foamy water. When everything cleared, he was gone. They had searched the area for two days, at least as far as they could, the depth was close to a half mile there.

“When the gas hit me, it was like an elevator dropping out from under me. Ever ridden the elevator at the Sears tower in Chicago? Fastest darn elevator in the world, this was faster.” He took a sip, a drag on the cigarette and continued. “I don’t know how far I fell in the foam, I was sure I was dead, even if the depth didn’t kill me when I stopped, the fall probably would.”

“But you didn’t die?”

“Nope. I passed out. When I awoke I was laying in a bunk.”

“A bunk? On the fishing boat that found you?” I asked, feeling a bit disappointed.

“Nope.”

“Come on, then were?” I leaned forward.

“On an ocean liner with nearly a quarter mile of water overhead.”

“Come on, that would be what, over 500 pounds of pressure per square inch wouldn’t it?

“Yes.” For the first time, the smile reached his eyes. “And it was floating.”

I must have looked incredulous again.

“Have you ever heard of a bourdon tube?”

I had been a recreational diver for nearly three years, I knew a bourdon tube was the part of a pressure gage that was sealed on one end and could either be open or sealed with a diaphragm on the other, the sealed end was attached through gears to a needle which indicated pressure based on the flexure of the tube in response to pressure. “Sure.”

“Imagine one with its opening nearly a mile beneath the ocean that curves up through a sea mount, one big enough to swallow an ocean liner, given the right conditions.”

I had a vision of some sort of lava tube, sealed on one end by a congealed bit of lava centuries ago, trapping some sort of atmosphere with the lower end at the seabed. I conceded it was possible.

“I couldn’t believe it when they told me either.”

“They?”

“The people who live there.”

“You are shitting me my friend.” I laughed out loud, feeling a bit of a fool, he had nearly pulled me in. His eyes got that cold look, he turned to get up and leave.

“No wait, I’m sorry, you have to admit, it sounds a bit farfetched.”

He looked thoughtfully at me for a moment, and then sat back down. “I’m not lying to you, shit, I don’t even know you, but I have to tell someone.” For a moment his eyes seemed lost again.

“Why me?”

“Why not?” He had a point. I finished my Killian and signaled for another.

“What happened to me happened to others, ships, boats, believe it or not, one guy said he was descended from a stranded pilot. He said his dad had been doing depth charge practice runs, the explosions must have set off a methane release” He took another drag from the nearly finished cigarette with a thoughtful look “Yep, that might do it”, he had then snuffed out the butt in the ashtray on the table. “The methane plume essentially knocked the low flying plane from the air.”

“With methane slush, it only takes a degree or two temperature change for it to go from a slush to gas, the gas churns the water into a froth which has nearly no buoyancy, however, as you move down towards the source the buoyancy gradually increases, slowing your ascent, in this case, I was over the opening the chamber that led up to the trapped airspace, I popped into the opening and floated to the surface inside the chamber. They found me, still wearing the rebreather, pulled me unconscious from the water and tended me until I awoke.”

“That still doesn’t explain how you survived the 500 pounds of pressure, I thought oxygen became toxic at that pressure, not to mention nitrogen narcosis.”

“I honestly don’t know. There was enough pressure to keep the water out. Maybe there was something special about the gas mix in the chamber, some of the people there had been there for years.”

“Ok, now there you go again, how the hell could anyone survive for years, underwater, no light, no food?” I took a long pull from my beer.

“Fungus, fish, seaweed.” He took a sip of Scotch.

“Explain”

“The chamber was lit, not very well, but enough to see by, by phosphorescent fungus. Hell, maybe they gave off the gas that kept us alive, I’m not a biochemist, so how the heck would I know? Anyway, there were several types of seaweed, all the seafood you could want, the darndest fish you ever saw would school in the chamber, they were attracted to the light. They even had a small spring of fresh water that must have percolated down into the chamber from above. How it overcame the pressure to flow I never figured out.”

It all hung together in an odd sort of way. Hell, I wasn’t a biochemist either, either he was telling the truth or he was spinning the most complete fabrication I had ever heard, besides what else was I going to do on a Wednesday evening, did I mention it was raining outside?

I remembered that below a certain depth the temperature (in the Earth, not water) actually increased several degrees for each bit you descended, into mines and such, I assumed the chamber was probably warm enough.

“Plenty warm, almost too warm” was what Jason answered when I asked him.

“Don’t suppose you brought any of the gas or the fungus back with you?” I had visions of discovering a new diving mix good down to thousands of feet.

“No, afraid I left under duress.” He paused to finish his Scotch. I signaled the barkeep to bring another, Jason smiled. “Thanks.”

“Under duress? Explain.”

“It was the Cyclopes”

Again I felt I had been sucker punched.

“Cyclopes? Single eye in the middle of the forehead? Hates Ulysses?”

He smiled for a moment at my obvious discomfort. “No, that is what they called it” he paused and lit another cigarette. “It was some kind of deep sea animal, it lived in the chamber before they did, the last of its kind as far as they knew.”

“Ok, what did it look like?”

“Well, large seal-like body, four flippers, long neck, sharp teeth, liked human flesh.” He shuddered, obviously experiencing a memory he didn’t want to. “About forty-feet long.”

“Forty-feet long!” I blurted out.

“Quiet, people are staring.”

“Sounds like Nessie”

“Nessie? Oh, Loch Ness, a cousin anyway.”

“Why Cyclopes?”

“The first time it attacked, they managed to blind it in one eye.”

“So it isn’t immortal.”

“Nope.”

“Why didn’t they kill it?”

“Used the last flare they had the first time it attacked, that’s what blinded it in one eye. Didn’t stop it from grabbing one of them, he was gone in one gulp.” He shuddered again.

“What about guns? Rifles, shoot you said it was an ocean liner, don’t they usually carry some sort of arms?”

“Some small hand guns, a couple of parker shotguns with skeet loads, it’s hide was pretty tough living under all that pressure, for the most part small arms fire just bounced off, the flare was a lucky shot.”

“I noticed you seem pretty upset when you talk about this thing.”

“Let’s see, basically a sea serpent that likes human flesh, not exactly a pleasant chamber mate.” He looked away and took a long drag on his cigarette. “And there was also Joey.”

“Joey?”

His eyes were dark again, lost. He snubbed out the second cigarette. “Joey was Alisa’s son.” He held up his hand to stifle my next question. “I know, who is Alisa? Alisa is the woman I love. I met her there. She is a descendent of one of the families trapped when the ocean liner was sucked under by another methane plume, a huge one, it rolled the liner over and sucked it into the chamber. Most of the passengers where killed, but some survived. They woke up, powerless, drifting in the chamber, no clue where they were or even what had happened. Among them was a gifted scientist who pieced together what had happened and helped discover the various edible seaweeds and fungus that kept the rest alive. Unfortunately he eventually died of cancer. Alisa is his grand-daughter.” He looked infinitely sad.

“So come on, what happened?”

“Hold on, I didn’t mention his last discovery, or should I say theory.”

“Ok, what was it?”

“One you were exposed to the gas mixture for an extended period of time, it bonded to your tissue, unless you decompressed fairly often. If it bonds, it stays bonded until the pressure is reduced to about 30 bar.”

“What then?”

“It explosively unbonds.”

“Shit”

“Yep, those people down there have been exposed their entire lives, no way they could ever come to the surface, they are, for the rest of their and their descendents lives cursed to say below 200 meters of equivalent pressure.” He took a large hit from his Scotch and was silent for a while. “After I met Alisa I was planning to stay.”

I must have looked shocked. “What, you don’t believe I would give up a normal life for a woman?”

“You are here aren’t you?”

“Not by choice. Let me continue. Alisa had fallen in love with Joey’s dad, a fellow she called Samuel. From how she talked about him he was a real hero type. Good Father, Good Husband.”

“What happened?”

“Cyclopes, it came on one of its raids, once it got a taste of human flesh, it kept coming back. Samuel was on guard when it reared up out of the sea beside the ship and bit him nearly in half, he died in her arms. Anyway, that was all history, Joey was 5 by their reckoning, he looked younger and it had all happened when he was still a baby.”

“You were only gone 4 days. You fell in love in four days?”

“She was the first thing I saw when I woke up after they pulled me from the water. I thought I had died and gone to heaven, she looked like an angle. She had that Celtic peaches and cream complexion, her hair was red, even in the pale light of the fungus from the chamber. What can I say, I was always a sucker for her type.” He took another drink. “And Joey, he was a great kid.” He shuddered again and took another drink. “Cyclopes got him to, at least we thought so. I later found out for sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“We found one of his shoes on the deck, his foot was still in it. We assumed Cyclopes did it. That is when we decided to kill it.”

“Wait, I thought you said they didn’t have any weapons.”

“They didn’t, however, strange stuff was always bobbing up into the chamber, a ship with mining supplies must have gone down. A crate of dynamite showed up.”

“That should have made it easy.”

“Not when you consider the atmosphere was potentially explosive.”

“You didn’t mention that.”

“Sorry, the scientist, Professor Shwartz, determined that while small arms fire wouldn’t set it off, an explosion and the resulting compression wave could. That’s why they hadn’t really thought about it before.”

“So how were they going to kill it?”

“We,” he stressed the word, “decided to use bait, set with explosive.”

“I thought you said all there was were fish and fungus and seaweed, not exactly something that would attract this creature from what you say.”

“You are correct.” He sat back and gave me a measured stare. “Some one had to be bait.”

“Ok, so someone lures the thing to attack, tosses some lit dynamite down its gullet and blows it to monster hell.”

“Not quite. Remember if it blew up in the chamber we would all die.”

“Ok, so what was the plan?” I took another drink, noticing the bottle was empty I signaled the barkeep to bring another.

After the barkeep had brought over the beer, and another Scotch, Jason continued. “The bait had to take the explosive and make sure it exploded outside the chamber.”

“Outside the chamber? How?”

“The pressure change.”

“Ok, so you rigged up a detonator with a pressure gage and then what?”

“We couldn’t figure out a way to do it.”

“Ok, so what did you do?”

“We rigged up a simple fused detonator.”

“And?”

He looked straight at me, his glance so sharp it could cut glass, “Someone had to take the charge into the beast and set it off, someone had to be eaten alive.”

The thought sobered me right up, I felt a chill down my spine as I thought about it. “You got to be kidding.”

“As God is my witness.” He slugged the last of his scotch back and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, slamming the shot glass down on the table with a sharp crack. People looked over at us, then away.

“We rigged the explosive, I got back into my diving gear and put on the rebreather. We waited until the creature usually showed itself and I waited. It didn’t disappoint me. God that things mouth was huge. I had to throw myself into that hellish maw full of razor sharp teeth to keep from getting chewed and killed. It swallowed me whole.” His face had gone white. The bartender looked concerned as he delivered the shot of Scotch, I gave him a glance that said not to interfere so he left.

“It felt like it must have felt to be born, only this was no damn birth canal. At the end of its gullet was a large stomach. In it using my dive light I found Joey’s hat, possibly some bones. I watched the pressure gage, feeling the acid from things guts burning into exposed flesh. The thing had parasites, ugly, wormy looking things about a foot long each with nasty teeth all their own. About the time my dive light was beginning to dim, about an hour according to my watch, the depth gage finally began to change. I watched it decrease, I had to wait until it was in my safe range. I waited tensely as the gage passed through the un-bonding range. Other than some discomfort in my joints and a case of belches I didn’t have any problems. I set the detonator fuse burning using a magnesium dive flare and tossed the explosives as far down in the gut of the creature as I could. I then clawed and forced my way as far back up the gullet as I could.”

He had said most of the last in a rush as if purging a tainted dinner. If it was possible he looked even more pale than he had before. He lit another cigarette with a shaking hand. “When it blew I was knocked unconscious, I awoke on the fishing boat.”

We sat quietly for a while.

“I suppose you have no proof?”

He looked quietly at me for a while. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, which he held concealed in his hand, he passed it over to me. I looked down at a large tooth. It looked like something that you would find in a museum only it wasn’t fossilized, it still had dried flesh clinging to it. “This was embedded in my leg when they pulled me from the water.” He rolled up his pant leg, there was a jagged scar, freshly healed. “I took it over to the museum, it matches up to one from what they call a plesiosaur.” I have the dive log from my dive computer, of course it maxes out as far as depth. I also have an exact location from my wrist GPS for the site where it happened.”

I passed it back over to him. “I suppose you have no idea what has happened to Alisa and the others?”

“How could I?” He knocked back the last drink.

What else was there to say? Lucky? I guess he was, he had thwarted death twice, maybe even three times. Later that week I heard someone had stolen some explosives and a rebreather. Another story talked of finding an abandoned boat. I hope Jason was lucky one last time.