Mission Journal 7 — Mark Ward: Mission Day 3: Saturday, April 26th, 2003
Awake again with the indigo dawn. Jim and Billy were again hard at work. I was drawn to the viewport in the galley where a very active scene was holding sway. An enormous school of tiny silverside bait fish was undulating and darting around the habitat as if they were one giant heaving mass. Predatory jacks were picking away at their numbers with precision and stealth, wasting no energy in gathering their breakfasts. Mine was a less brutal meal of hot oatmeal and a mug of cold water.
After breakfast I placed a call to my wife, thanks to the LSB (with cell phone antenna) stationed overhead. It was wonderful to connect with one so close from seemingly so far away. It was also great to share with her the excitement I’ve been living, especially since she had to endure my preoccupations over the last four weeks since I learned that I’d earned a slot.
At the end of my call, Billy beckoned to show me an email he’d just received from a friend. The cool thing was it was sent from an Antarctic research station – from the frozen pole to the tropical depths in the click of a mouse!
Around the habitat the pace of activities was quickening in preparation for the start of decompression. That – as is often noted – is the cross all saturated divers must bear, since breathing compressed air at depth results in a dangerous build-up of nitrogen in blood and tissues. Returning to the surface without a properly moderated ascent can result in a crippling, even deadly, case of the bends.
To prepare for decompression we all gathered our non-essential possessions to be potted and sent up with the next visit from our top-side supporters. Potting is a procedure unique to undersea dwellers. To transfer items from surface to depth and back again calls for a hardy vessel to withstand the rigors of water and pressure. Pressurized paint-pots do the trick quite nicely. Of course, instead of paint, the liquid is seawater and it surrounds, rather than fills the pot. The dynamics work just as well in reverse however, so these pots have become a work-horse, of sorts, in the area of transferring goods between the habitat and the surface.
Today’s topside visitors came with empty pots that were quickly filled and escorted to the surface by Mark Hulsbeck. Our other visitor, Andy Pelczar, a navy doctor from Georgia, checked us over and briefed us on the effects of our coming decompression. Aquarius Operations Manager, Craig Cooper, stayed down to assist through decompression.
With the visitors on their way, Jim swung the outer wet porch door shut and sealed the inner door. The beginning of our decompression – and our next stop – was to be the equivalent pressure of 45 feet of seawater. The normal pressure inside Aquarius ranges from 45 to 47 feet depending on the tide, but since the tide was coming in we needed to decrease internal pressure to follow the decompression tables.