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SUMMER 2012
FROM THE SAFETY STOP
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P U B L I S H E R ’ S N O T E
I
was in Fiji in early May, and it was a great trip:
photographically productive and uneventful from a dive-
safety point of view. At least, it was uneventful for me, but
a friend had a close call.
In the briefing for that dive, the divemaster described a
pygmy seahorse on a lovely seafan, situated at the bottom
of a current-swept channel at 85 feet. Since this was a
dedicated photo tour, I wasn’t surprised that six hands went
up in the air when the group was asked who wanted in on
the photo-op. I briefly considered it myself, but an 85-foot
flat profile would consume a lot of bottom time quickly,
and pygmy seahorses are subjects that require a slow and
methodical approach to photograph successfully. Besides
the ecological concern of not wanting to unduly stress the
animal, there was the practical consideration that I didn’t
think I’d have enough no-decompression time at that depth
to safely justify the effort.
When I came back aboard I was greeted by the
unsettling vision of a close friend seated on the
rear deck breathing oxygen. One look at his dive
computer told me most of the story before he even
removed the oxygen mask to speak. He had waited
for his chance to photograph the seahorse, got too
involved with the photographic process (apparently
to the detriment of careful gas monitoring) and
made a free ascent. It wasn’t clear why no buddy
was nearby to assist, and it didn’t suggest why his
bailout bottle wasn’t functional — those nuances
would be revealed later. It was apparent from the computer
graphic that his ascent had been rapid, and it could easily have
led to decompression sickness or an embolism. Fortunately,
it was his first dive of the day, he had been breathing a high-
oxygen nitrox mix, and he was given first aid oxygen right
away. There were no consequences other than our collective
anxiety. (Note: In general, DAN® recommends administering
oxygen only when symptoms occur.)
Still, the event made me start thinking about the concept of
dive insurance and how important it has been to the evolution
of sport diving, especially in remote locales. It was reassuring
to know we could have evacuated my friend to a relatively
nearby hyperbaric chamber, the prognosis would likely have
been good, and the expense of evacuation and treatment
would have been covered by his DAN insurance. Most divers
will never have to use their DAN insurance coverage; but
I have had to use mine in some distant and exotic locales
including Vanuatu, Myanmar and the Solomon Islands.
The evacuation from the
Solomons is one I remember
well because it was complicated
and would have cost me a
fortune if I had to pay for it
out of pocket. Once it was determined I probably had
decompression sickness, a helicopter was sent from Honiara
to the uninhabited island where we were diving. After it
brought me back to the Honiara airport, I was bundled into
a King Air turboprop equipped with an onboard hyperbaric
chamber. It had been dispatched from Townsville, Australia,
1,500 miles away, and that’s where I was sent for treatment.
After nearly six hours in a claustrophobia-inducing
hyperbaric chamber, we landed, and they lifted the chamber
from the aircraft with a forklift and transported it to another,
much larger chamber. The two were mated with a pressurized
airlock, and I moved from the aircraft’s tiny chamber to the
hospital’s multiplace one. The precision with which this
evacuation and treatment was coordinated amazes me even
today, and it was all arranged and paid for by DAN. I figure it
will take me about 500 years of paying for the top-tier dive-
accident insurance before DAN breaks even on that single
claim. But, hey, that’s what DAN is there for.
Pygmy’s Revenge
b y S t E p h E n F R i n k
MA R K M I N T Z
S T E P H E N F R I N K