In October of 1942 the Pacific War was in full swing and the U.S. was pouring men and equipment into the region. The Island of Espiritu Santo in northern Vanuatu (New Hebrides) became a major Navy staging area and airbase due to it's proximity to the Solomons and the Coral Sea. Prior to the arrival of the military, Santo was a sleepy island with few buildings and less than 250 "Europeans" mixed in with the local folks. In only a couple months, the Americans built 2 heavy bomber bases, 3 fighter bases, and landed 100,000 troops.
Santo was strategic to the Navy and shipping because of excellent harbors at both the northern and southern ends of the island. The southern harbor was only approachable through relatively narrow passes and they were protected by mines against the threat of Japanese subs. It was here that the USS President Coolidge was sunk after hitting a 'friendly' mine on it's approach.
The Coolidge was one of the largest and most elegant cruise ships of it's time. At 654 ft. it rivals modern ships and she regularly crossed the Pacific. She held the crossing speed record from San Francisco to Japan at over 20.5 kts. In 1942, the Coolidge was pressed into transport service to support the Pacific War. Her civilian capacity of 950 passengers was expanded to over 5000 troops and her holds were filled with supplies, including trucks, weapons, jeeps, and medical supplies. When she hit the mine on her approach to Santo, she was fully loaded and had over 5000 soldiers and crew aboard. After the initial impact and explosion, her captain was able to drive her up onto the beach and all but 2 men were able to scramble down her sides before she slipped back, rolled onto her port side, and sank with her stern in 250' and her bow in 80' of water. It was less than one hour from explosion to her sliding beneath the sea and all cargo and supplies were lost.
Today, the Coolidge is one of the most famous wrecks in the world. She is a very technical dive due to her depth and the dangers of swimming around inside an intact ship. She lies only about 100 yds off the beach and one simply wades out to the edge of the reef and follows a rope down to her bow, at about 65' deep. A number of dive services provide guides and technical assistance so recreational divers can experience the wonders of deep wreck diving. With our friends on s/v Jackster, Ann and I signed up with Allan Power's service. Allan is considered the grandfather of Santo diving and he has logged over 20,000 dives on the Coolidge. At over 80 yrs old, Allan is no longer diving, but he is there to greet and tell his stories as well as drive the bus to the site.
The dive for all 'first timers' on the Coolidge is partly a check out dive. Ann and I had our own guide and we descended down to the gun placements on the foredeck of the ship at 65'. We then continued to drop down and swam along the deck, which is vertical due to the ship laying on it's side. Apparently, our guide felt we were doing OK and we entered one of the cargo holds at about 120'. There were helmets, rubber gas masks, rifles, the barrel of a 155 mm gun, and dozens of track vehicles and jeeps. Fantastic! At these depths, dive time and air supply is limited, so we slowly began to exit the inside and start our ascent. Returning to the surface on deep dives is a slow process and assures one's safety. It is like coming up steps and we make stops to allow nitrogen to escape from our bodies. A stop can be 10 – 15 minutes, just hanging out at specific depths for "decompression" to be complete.
It was an amazing feeling of accomplishment and excitement to have dived on the Coolidge. We returned to the dive office and told our stories over lunch. Like many things, if once was good – let's do it again! Dave, Jacqui, and I signed up for the afternoon dive and we were off again. We had 2 guides for the three of us and as 'experienced' Coolidge divers we were able to penetrate deeper into the ship. We swam into multiple cargo holds, down passage ways that had been only for first class passengers but now were lined with toilets for the troops, and reached the dining room were there is still a bas relief of "The Lady and the unicorn" , which originally hung over the fireplace in the smoking lounge. Tradition calls for divers to remove their mouth piece and give the Lady a kiss. A bit salty ....... On this dive we got down to 140', which is my deepest dive, by far!
We were getting ready to depart Vanuatu for New Caledonia, but not before one last dive on the Coolidge. On Wednesday morning, Dave, Jacqui, and I signed up for a final deep adventure. Having had 2 successful dives the day before, our guides offered us the chance to go deeper yet, and enter the engine and control rooms at over 160' below the surface. Each Coolidge dive took me deeper than I had ever been before, but I was one on one with a dive master who has logged 1000's of trips to the Coolidge and I was feeling good.
On this last dive, we swam down to the bow, along the hull on the outside of the ship, and entered through a large cut out over the engine room where salvage work had been attempted. We then swam through a small hatch and followed our flashlights into the control room where there are still the ships instrumentation and telegraph for communicating with the bridge. We were at 161' deep and I felt good. In hindsight, I felt too good. As we exited the ship and began to swim along the main deck past the bridge, strange sensations began to set in. Within minutes, I felt anxiety and flashes of panic. My guide was right next to me and we had started a long gradual swim toward the bow and our mandatory decompression stops, but I was fighting a strong urge to go up – now. I felt fear and anxiety, but I knew an ascent was impossible. At depths, your body absorbs bubbles of nitrogen much like the fizz in a can of soda. A rapid ascent without allowing the bubbles to slowly work their way out is like shaking up a Coke and popping the top. Except your body is the can of pop. Not following proper procedures will result in getting 'bends', or worse.
Luckily, I was not in danger of the bends, I was "narced". Another possible side effect of nitrogen in your blood on deep dives is nitrogen narcosis.
This typically manifests itself with a feeling of euphoria and well being, often followed by anxiety and fear. Luckily, it usually dissipates fairly quickly as one slowly ascends. Training, practice, and a highly experienced guide allowed me to fight off what felt like survival instincts and keep my shit together. As we rose to around 100, I could already feel the symptoms dissipating and we continued our controlled proper procedures.
Back on terra firma we reviewed what happened. Narcosis can not be predicted and it effects everyone differently. Each of the guides and experienced divers sitting around the table admitted to having been 'narced' at one time or another. The important part is to recognize symptoms – yours and your dive buddy's - and respond accordingly. My guide and another that had been down near us told me that they saw it coming when we were in the engine room and I had been feeling 'fine' – too fine. They said they saw my normal slow relaxed movements becoming jerky and my head was turning side to side. At that point, my guide had begun the process of getting out of the ship and starting back. I have replayed what I remember from that part of the dive and am aware of some of the sensations. I now realize I was having great difficulty focusing on my dive gauges and making sense of them. I also was feeling frustrated with my guide because he was in fact pushing me out of the confined spaces.
All's well that ends well. I am grateful to have had the opportunity to dive the Coolidge and thankful for having been with Tim, who is a true professional. I learned a lot about my limits – mental and physical. I also learned that I do not have a career as a deep wreck diver, and am looking forward to diving next week with Ann and Bear and playing underwater with beautiful corals and fish. Nearly all the good stuff in the tropics is no deeper than 60' – including me!
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