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WINTER 2016
into a Texas cave, but it also was helpful for redundancy
during ice dives and for carrying cylinders to entry points.
Diver propulsion vehicle (DPV) training helped me
find the siliceous spires in Wyoming’s Yellowstone Lake
and to travel to lead-mine carts in Missouri’s Mine La
Motte. I like my “underwater motorcycle” and plan to
do cave DPV training next year.
Some certifications, such as ice diving, are fairly
location specific. I got certified for ice diving in Ohio
and joined a class in Minnesota for more experience.
The dive groups were welcoming and operated as
teams with surface tenders. I found working with teams
of divers who shared the same diving methods and
procedures to be very rewarding.
As divers we experience a world hidden to most
people. Some dive sites are even hidden to most divers.
As a member of three official dive teams, I was able to
capture images of dive sites that had restricted access.
We come to love and protect only what we know and
can see, so I enjoy revealing as much of the underwater
world as possible.
GAINING EXPERIENCE
I know there’s more to preparing for such diverse
experiences than just certification and training. I built
my skills progressively. When booking a charter in cold
water I was often asked if I had drysuit experience. I
found the question amusing because I had spent only one
week the previous year diving in a wetsuit, but I know
it’s an important question. I am honest about my abilities
because in diving such honesty helps keep you alive.
Diving across the country meant being flexible and
open to changing conditions. Always training at the
same dive site leads to a narrow experience. I dived with
a variety of equipment configurations in many different
climates, so when a boat captain told me a planned dive
site wouldn’t work, I was prepared for alternatives.
At one point I had planned to dive the German
submarine
U-352
off the coast of North Carolina.
Unfortunately a hurricane landed the weekend I was
planning the dive. Since I had limited windows for
diving, I changed course and headed to Lake Mead in
Nevada. I was able to return to dive the
U-352
later on.
My certifications provided a foundation for my
exploration. To safely reach my goal, I planned dives
with not only my training in mind but also based on
my experience in similar conditions. Often I needed
to combine skills from my training courses to reach a
goal or to manage task loading. I carry a large camera
on nearly all my dives. I named my primary camera
Goliath and my backup camera Big Beastie. Goliath
died twice during my journey, so I renamed it David.
THE AMAZING SITES I SAW
I originally set out to show how my local waters are
valuable. I want them to remain a place divers can enjoy,
and I want to see them protected for future generations.
I knew our marine environment was special, but I
underestimated the diversity and richness of diving
across America. Now transformed by my experience,
I feel like I’ve taken only the first few steps of an even
bigger journey.
In a way, diving all 50 states was a series of first
experiences. Nothing is quite like a first impression. I
remember my first dive 20 years ago in Cozumel, my
first underwater photography dive and my first cave
dives. By undertaking a quest of first experiences, I was
able to love all that I saw.
My first few dives on this quest were in quarries and
lakes. I enjoyed the statues, boats and other objects
placed in dive parks around the country. Familiarity
may make these sites seem less exciting to those who
dive them often, but I was able to see them with fresh
eyes. I remember fondly the statue of David in Martha’s
Quarry in Tennessee, a site I thoroughly enjoyed.
Another special first on my journey was my first post-
training cave dive in Jug Hole (also called Blue Hole) in
Florida. Larry Hack invited me on that dive along with
photographer Amanda Cotton. I’m still smiling.
As the quest progressed, so too did my first
experiences. Not only did I meet the enthusiastic dive
gear aficionados of the North East Diving Equipment
Group in Dutch Springs, Pa., but I also got to dive in
and photograph historic dive equipment. I’ll always
remember my first dive in a Mark V hardhat diving
suit: It felt like diving in a person-shaped submarine.
They also let me dive in a visually striking Russian
military diving suit, which was definitely not for the
claustrophobic. Pennsylvania is my favorite state for
diving because of the people I met.
Opposite, left to right, top to bottom:
A spotted gar in Spring Lake, Texas; plumose anemones in Puget Sound, Wash.; a purposely sunk wreck
in Philip’s Quarry, Ind.; an opening in the ice in Square Lake, Minn.; the opening to Jackson Blue in Florida; a sea otter floats by in Seward,
Alaska; a lead mine cart in Mine La Motte; American lobsters crawl along the bottom of Harts Cover in New Hampshire; blue angelfish swim
through the USTS
Texas Clipper
in South Padre Island, Texas; David gazes up amidst vegetation at Loch Low-Minn in Athens, Tenn.; exiting
White Star Quarry from beneath the ice in Ohio; a kelp rockfish hides in giant kelp off Catalina Island, Calif.; pink (humpy) salmon journey in
an Alaskan tributary to spawn; diving a Mark V helmet and suit at Dutch Springs, Penn.; paddlewheel of the horse ferry in Lake Champlain, Vt.