IT HAPPENS THAT I HAD NEVER DIVED WITH Bret Gilliam. I knew his name. His reputation as a preeminently successful entrepreneur in the diving world, a veteran participant and pioneer in almost every facet of the industry, was known to me as it was to almost every one, old and new, who had joined his or her life to the sea and diving.

We met many years ago at one of those raucous, salubrious cocktail receptions by the Boston Sea Rovers. I joined a circle that had formed around a booming, resonant deep voice. When I could get close enough to look around the heads I focused on the storyteller. Not only did he have the full attention of his audience, he had them body and soul.

We became friends. We often shared the stage at film festivals and gatherings. I have a few stories to tell myself. I ultimately tried to precede Bret with the best story I could uncork and have now learned to avoid ever following his act.

When, in 2001, Bret decided to turn his hand again to publishing and editing a dive journal he asked me to contribute an essay to each issue. I was happy to do so and more than pleased to provide the grist for an interview with the unique and very sensible provision that I write freely – any length of my choosing – in response to a series of questions posed by him as my interrogator. The collected interviews that compose the main substance of this book are lengthy, intimate and provide a fascinating autobiography of the interviewee. I believe that this open-ended written interview style is unique in the world of diving journalism.

Many of the persons interviewed were my good friends or colleagues or both. Some I had never met (wreck explorer John Chatterton and filmmaker Greg MacGillivray). At least one, Peter Benchley, had a name familiar internationally. All were major achievers, their currency high and respected among divers. Since mine was one of the early interviews, I must confess that I probably rated the honor by having been in the business so long that I had been labeled a “Pioneer”. I’ll let it go at that. The bottom line is that I was, indeed, honored to be included.

All of the interviews are a “good read”. Peter Benchley was my friend, an intimate of frequent family dinners (we were neighbors and had worked together on television network shows for many years). His interview revealed intimate experiences in his life that were entirely new to me. Ron and Valerie Taylor joined me on that infamous voyage that produced Blue Water, White Death so many years ago. Some of my first forays into big time Hollywood fi lm jobs were with Al Giddings and Chuck Nicklin. The same holds true for Howard and Michele Hall. I had worked with them in their early days, their seminal periods in underwater camera work from which they would immerge as top underwater cameramen in the world and later producers of network series and IMAX productions. I knew why they had reached that preeminence – because they were both enterprising and good – but many of the accounts of adventures and perilous experiences along the way were fresh for me. Bret is a master of the interview craft precisely because of the detailed research he does in advance, as well as his personal relationship with so many of the subjects.

As I scroll down the names of those interviewed my brain neurons, though numbed by excessive use of strong drink, still drag back from yesteryear remembrances of camaraderie and shared experiences from long ago. Bob Ballard, a young researcher, was working on his doctorial degree at Woods Hole when I met him years ago. He was a member of the Boston Sea Rovers, a brotherhood of enthusiastic divers in the Boston area, all dedicated to lobster feasts and riotous good times. His achievements as the programmer for the famous submersible, Alvin, began to impress us but hardly stirred the world outside of the marine science community. Then the discovery of the Titanic projected him into world recognition. The full story of his rise to preeminence could only best be told by his own recollections. The interview format provides that vehicle.

From the beginning, Bret told me, “I made a commitment to giving interviews considerable space and really letting the interviewees tell their stories”. One after another the interviews have fulfilled that purpose. The names are legends in their time: Zale Parry, a true lady pioneer who starred in Sea Hunt and dozens of other television and movie roles; Wes Skiles, world renowned cave explorer; the infamous Bev Morgan who changed commercial diving equipment forever; innovative filmmaker Mike deGruy; Bob Hollis and Dick Bonin, pioneers and giants in the manufacture of sport diving equipment; Paul Humann, lawyer turned prolific author/publisher of marine animal identification books; and legendary photographer Ernie Brooks… all those interviewed in the body of this articulate and often delightfully personal book represent two generations of divers who were dynamically part of the sport’s evolution and growth.

In speaking of this project Bret said, “I want this book to be a way of preserving an oral history of diving, directly from the mouths of those responsible for shaping the sport from so many different segments”. Most of this book’s readers will not have personally known the famous men and women whose interviews compose the text. By giving each the time to marshal his or her thoughts, reach back into the experiences and adventures that became the very fabric of their growths, a window into the life of each is opened for the reader. I did know most personally. I still found the words of each a page-turner.

In this book’s original draft, one most-wished for interview was missing, that of the author. With a career that spans over 35 years Bret has logged over 17,000 dives. His business activities took him into almost every aspect of the diving world, both sport and commercial. I am acquainted with no one more discerningly qualified to select a representative group of pioneers, many of whom are still “cutting the mustard” with fresh productivity. When I pointed out this conspicuous absence, Bret dismissed including himself. But eventually he caved in and sat for his own interview session so I now consider the volume complete.

For myself, having survived into my eighties (with no thanks to prudence or world-shaking achievement) the very fact that I started diving in the 1930s before mask, fins and snorkels appeared and have miraculously survived to continue diving into my eighties seems to make me a “pioneer”. I won’t argue.

I am writing this foreword on the liveaboard dive boat, Nai’a, in Fiji waters. When I reach home again Susy, my wife of fifty-six years, will shout, “Never mind that pioneer stuff; get busy right here! The recyclables and garbage have to go out for tomorrow’s pick up.” With that stirring call, I am back to reality.
– Stan Waterman, December 2006

THE INSPIRATION FOR THIS BOOK CAME FROM Eric Hanauer. Over 15 years ago we both were doing a series of books for Watersport Publishing in San Diego. I was writing weighty tomes on technical diving and Eric had done a travel book on the Red Sea. In 1994 I visited the offices for some editing meetings and found a preliminary layout for a book called, you guessed it, Diving Pioneers. I saw Eric’s name on the thing and knew that it would be worth my time. I meant to sit down and peruse it for a few minutes and ended up reading the whole thing in one sitting. I had to tell publisher Ken Loyst that we’d pick up our meeting the next day. After that he learned never to leave anything out that would distract me when I flew in for a visit.

Eric’s book was about 250 pages and profiled 22 people in short chapters and a collection of black and white photos. It was heavily biased toward California divers from the 1940s and 1950s era but everyone included was a legitimate “pioneer” and I found it fascinating. It sparked my idea to take off where Eric had stopped and do a series of lengthy interviews with other compelling diving figures. I started the interviews two years later in Deep Tech magazine with Bev Morgan. Up until then, the diving press limited interviews to a few pages of mostly formulaic stock question scripts and rarely did an interview subject reveal much about the person. The response to Morgan’s piece was a bit overwhelming and we got swamped by readers asking for more. Others followed in Deep Tech and I expanded the series later in Fathoms magazine. When I sold out in 2005 I made plans to turn those dialogues into a book and widen the content by including more of diving’s movers and shakers.

Deciding on the final lineup was tough. Certainly this does not include all who should be in such a book. And that’s why I already have plans for a Volume II. But it does represent an interesting cross section of the first two generations of diving with filmmakers, manufacturers, authors, explorers, publishers, photographers, and entrepreneurs. I expanded Eric’s original title to include “Innovators” and felt it fit the group pretty well. Some are now retired, one (Peter Benchley) is tragically deceased, and many are still making history. I think you’ll find it to be an interesting bunch to hang out with, albeit vicariously from the pages. But it’s their story in their own words.

A book like this cannot succeed without the complete cooperation and trust of the folks included as interview subjects. It requires quite a long process to get the initial Q&A over and then a committed excavation of photo archives to resurrect the images necessary to bring the dialogue to life. I think some of the photos we worked with may have been originally taken by Matthew Brady with a massive daguerreotype on a tripod hewn from whole oak. (Is that Stan Waterman in the back row of the Union army at Gettysburg?) No matter whether recorded on old dusty glass plates, 35mm slides, prints, or today’s digital files… someone had to go dig for them. And I appreciate the effort. So my first “shout out” of :: acknowledgments 11 thanks goes straight to the characters profiled. It was a pleasure working with each one of you.

I also very much appreciate the stellar contributions of my co-authors Fred Garth, Douglas Seifert, and Michel Gilbert & Danielle Alary who captured the interviews I couldn’t squeeze in myself. Thanks especially to Lina Hitchcock who drew the unenviable task of interviewing me. Of course, Eric Hanauer predictably joins the crew and I thank him again for setting the concept.

My longtime collaborator Kim Barry gets all the credit for designing the book and carefully melding images and dialogue into a cohesive and interesting package. Kim, none of the magazines and book projects I’ve done since 2000 would have been possible without your creative skill and steady hand. And you cook like a deranged gourmet, as well.

Sue Drafahl rounded up the images for Zale Parry when a lot of that material would have been lost. Dr. Gregg Gaylord, Hugh Duncan, and Ned Deloach helped with critical and much needed input on content and style. Eric Riesch at New World Publications was invaluable helping coordinate the project with the printers and liaison all the details of getting this monster from a digital file, to press, and back from Singapore.

Thanks to my wife Gretchen for helping in so many ways and playing hostess and “hotelier” to so many of the interviewees and other various degenerates and swashbucklers who like to drop in and stay awhile. (Please see if Mike deGruy is still in the hot tub.)

I’d also like to thank all the readers of my magazines, articles, and books who encouraged me to put together this special edition of conversations with diving’s most interesting people. You guys were right: There wasn’t another book like this and it was long overdue. I hope it can help preserve a true “oral history” of diving and let you share in the intimacy and fun of sitting down with some great story-tellers and just letting them rip. Some of these interviews were fueled by coffee. Others were helped along by some fine wines. All were driven by a great combination of camaraderie and a bit of adrenalin generated by recalling pivotal career moments… whether tragic, exciting or just plain fun. But our intent was to bring the reader right into the conversation and encourage you to pull up a chair and listen in.

We hope you enjoy yourself and come away a bit better for the experience. There’s a lot of water under the collective keels of the divers you’re going to read about. Capturing these stories was a project spanning a decade. We all hope it’s a fun ride for you to share.

Even better would be to say hi in person. So don’t be shy about introducing yourself to anyone we interviewed if your paths cross at a dive program, a movie screening, or even better, on a dive boat somewhere.

Just explain that you were already introduced… and then buy the first round!
– Bret Gilliam, June 2007

Scripps Instution of Oceanography, La Jolla, California for diving.

GRAINY BLACK AND WHITE IMAGES FLICKERED across the length of the auditorium. The audience fell silent as the screen showed an athletically built young man standing on the swaying deck of a small boat. With a deep tan and sun-bleached hair and beard he looked like a sea gypsy. Assisted by a bearded crewman, he placed a navy submarine escape apparatus over his head, put on his nose clip, mask, and fins. And then, without pause, he took a step off the deck of the boat, and into the sea. The images then moved underwater as the young man gleefully swam around the seabed in a lengthy series of maneuvers reminiscent of a solo aerobatic display. Somersaults, loops and rolls. Liberated in a three-dimensional world, he instantly became a fish among the fishes. He was free at last! It was a surreal moment in the sea.

In the front rows of the sold-out auditorium headliner speakers James Cameron, Stan Waterman, Ernie Brooks, John Chatterton, Bret Gilliam and others sat in revered silence. You could hear a pin drop. Seated on the auditorium stage in the silent darkness, an elegant older couple sat holding hands. The gentleman turned his head to the screen slightly and nodded as if to reassure himself of a fact. Could what he was seeing really have been 64 years ago and half a world away? Could it?

What the audience was witnessing was the original footage of what most historians consider the dive that launched scuba diving as we know it. The fact that the actual diver who made it was sitting on the stage in front of them with his wife Lotte, made the whole experience even more surreal.

The step that Austria’s Hans Hass took on July 12,1942, at the Greek island of Ari Ronisi, heralded the dawn of recreational and scientifi c scuba diving. A threshold had been crossed. Twenty-seven years later America’s Neil Armstrong stepped across another threshold. “One small step for man, a giant leap for mankind.” The whole world knows Armstrong’s fi rst step. Only a handful of divers know of Hass’ fi rst step. That too was also a giant leap for mankind.

Hans Hass’ 1942 step was but the first of millions that were to follow, as humans discovered the thrill of scuba diving. Less than a year later Cousteau and Gagnan invented the Aqua-Lung and full French production of the unit would follow within three years. By 1948 the Aqua-Lung was available in the United States and the sport of recreational diving started to develop.

In the years that have followed, numerous sea lovers tried to make a career out their passion Connie Morgan Leslie Leaney and early American diving helmet. Then, as now, it proved to be a diffi cult thing to do. Those that were able to convert the intoxication of this new adventure into a meaningful career became the pioneers of the sport. However, scant attention was given to the historical relevance of what was being invented, discovered, and photographed or filmed. Few participants thought what they were doing would qualify for the designation of “historic.” But some of it was.

In 1992 I co-founded the Historical Diving Society of America to help record and preserve some of this early history, partly because the fi rst wave of pioneers were reaching their very senior years. Even with the assistance of recognized scuba historians such as Nick Icorn, Eric Hanauer, Philippe Rousseau, Nyle Monday, Peter Jackson, Kent Rockwell, and Michael Jung, it has proven to be an extremely challenging task. This is partly because, unlike almost every other sport, we divers do not enter a competition with each other to provide a set of winners and losers. Consequently, we do not provide victors who become sports heroes, nor Most Valuable Players that are recognizable to the general public. The way divers generally get any recognition is by overall consistent career accomplishments displayed in a body of work and in service. It is here we find our heroes and MVPs.
In the pages that follow you will get to meet, via interview, a very select group whose work in the underwater realm has elevated them to MVP status. Stan Waterman gives you an introduction to these divers, but let me endorse that they are some of the most interesting creatures swimming in our oceans today. By granting practically unlimited editorial space to each, the interviews have captured not only the history of these careers but also the essence of the subject’s character. Each interview provides a personal link in the chain of diving history that connects us all to the birth of our sport, and it also records some of the milestones they created along the way.

Perhaps the most appealing element of this book is that it is easy to imagine that you are actually sitting opposite the divers as they tell their story. For me it felt like I could have been relaxing on the back of a dive boat and watching the sun set listening to someone who has had a measurable infl uence on the overall culture of diving. Very rare air indeed.

Since Hans’ early step of 1942, the world has accumulated an increasing archive of imagery and words that record many individual contributions to the culture of diving. But the pristine world that some of these pioneers have seen may no longer be available to their grandchildren. As we now all face the environmental uncertainties of the future, it is important to know from where we have come. The divers interviewed here present some illumination to that historic path which includes the discoveries of their personal journey. Theirs has been a unique experience and I am delighted that this book gives these special characters a chance to share some of their adventures, and enables them leave their indelible fin-prints in the historical sands of time.

Leslie Leaney, President
The Historical Diving Society, USA
Santa Barbara, California
June 2007