The Lion's Pride vol. 4 (June 2015) | Page 59

Time passed as it always does and I fell into my routine: position my electromagnet, sprinkle iron filings, activate my magnet, look for the cracks the filings become drawn to, report to topside, and move on. This was my day for the next two and a half hours until the monotony was broken by a message from topside about a storm that was nearby and which would require us to cease dive operations if it continued to head for us. Thinking very little about the storm warning I went back to work knowing the mad scramble that the deck would be, riggers running to and fro securing all manner of equipment, divers making sure our bottles of oxygen were properly capped if not in use, putting up tarps for our hyperbaric chambers, and everyone keeping their eyes open for loose tools and trip hazards. That was when my day changed in a terrifying way, I began to ascend. This development was extremely disquieting as it meant that something was wrong with my air hose that suspended me above the depths. I began to panic and immediately called out to topside asking what the fuck was going on, all the while feeling the pressure in my head build. Time slowed to a crawl all of a sudden and I had a surprising feeling of calm as what I heard from topside hit home. I wasn’t