Texas Tower #4 Memorial Dive
14 July, 1999
DIVE
REPORT
To:
Texas Towers Association
Many
of you are already aware that the Texas Tower Memorial Service trip went very
well. The hard work, dedication and sacrifice performed specifically by two
individuals made this event possible, and should be recognized.
First I’d like to thank Don Abbott.
His dream of remembering those men of Tower #4, and the other Towers,
including his dad, Dave, was the catalyst for this memorial trip.
His drive, dedication and endless energy to see this thing through are
a credit to him. Secondly, Bernie Chowdhury, publisher and editor of Immersed
magazine, who sponsored the trip and had the memorial plaque made and provided
the video equipment should be equally recognized.
It was through his backing that made this dream of Don’s to become a
reality. Both of them are
special individuals. I would
also like to personally thank both of them for allowing me to be a part of
such a worthy and memorial event.
I
would like to share with you, a
divers point of view of what it was like to dive the Tower and place the
plaque on the site.
We
left Point Pleasant, New Jersey at 03:00 on the 14th of July.
The seas were relatively high, but would eventually subside later on in
the day. We arrived on station
over the Tower around 09:00 and were tied off to another dive boat that was
already there. The mates from our
vessel, Deep
Adventures III, were in the water and we were secured to the Tower
within minutes. My original dive
partner was to be navy Commander Mark Lichtenstein, a naval aviator and dive
instructor and one of the finest wreck divers on the East Coast.
Mark. had been to the Tower with me before and was preparing to join me
again in this mission. However, due to “unavoidable circumstances” at the
very last moment would not be able to go.
I then asked my friend, John Sgrignoli, an accomplished, seasoned North
Atlantic wreck diver who had accompanied me on several trips to the Tower over
the past years to take his place. John
jumped at the opportunity. John’s
ability as a wreck diver is well known on the boats.
I knew that even though Mark could not be there with us in person,
there was no doubt that he would be there in spirit.
Before
John and I suited up and entered the water, Don Abbott held the very moving
and emotional memorial service. All
those abroad assembled on the back of the boat.
As each name of the 28 men who were lost on Tower #4 and the two who
were lost from Tower #2 and the one from Tower #3 were read, a bell was rung
twice. I have to tell you that it
was one of the most moving elements of the entire trip.
Don will tell you more about that.
Following
the service, John and I were cleared to suit up and enter the water.
We had prepped our dive gear hours before, and had everything ready to
go. I put on my wet suit (a ¼”
neoprene rubber suit), and John donned his dry suit, (a specially fabricated
rubber suit that allows the diver to remain dry during the dive). We then
moved to the large aft area of the boat and put on our tanks.
My rig was comprised of two 80 cubic foot aluminum cylinders and a 30
cubic foot back up steel cylinder, which divers call a pony bottle.
In all, the rig weighed just shy of 100 pounds.
John’s set up was similar to mine.
Our
air valves had been turned on. Lights
had been checked. Regulators and
gauges were all in perfect working order.
The night before John and I had fastened three stainless steel bolts
and banding to the back of the plaque in preparation to mount it on the ladder
located just inside the Upper Airlock Hatchway located near the alpha “A”
leg. This location was chosen
because of its protected qualities from the strong current and possible damage
from anchor chains and grappling hooks. The
site would provide the best location for divers to see it as they entered the
structure. It would be the first
thing they would see as they entered the airlock.
Perhaps they would pause for a moment or two, read the names and
remember those brave men who still manned the Tower.
The
18” x 24” brass plated plaque had already been placed in a large canvas
bag and had been shackled to the anchor line and lowered to the wreck.
This served two purposes. It
would help prevent the plaque from being damaged during our swim to the anchor
line, and it would also reduce the chance of the divers being cut by the
extremely sharp edges of the metal plaque.
The video camera and its surface supported cable had also been lowered
with the bag to the wreck.
The
mate gave my dive partner, John, the go ahead to enter the water.
John stood up and moved over to the entry point and prepared to jump
into the water, which was about five feet below.
The sky was clear blue. Just
a few clouds broke the solid blue sky. The
only sound that could be heard was the occasional click of a camera and the
sound of the waves slapping up against the side of the boat.
There
was an extremely strong surface current running which required both John and I
to be literally pulled up toward the bow of our ship, which was 78 feet away.
I shuffled over to the entry point and waited for John to enter the
water. Within a second after John
stepped out from the deck, the force of gravity took over and he was gone from
sight. A large splash marked the
point of his entry. I watched as
the mate pulled the rope that John had looped over his wrist as the mate
dragged him up to the bow.
It
was now my turn. I stood up and moved over to the entry point.
I looped the rope over my left wrist and waited for the mate to give me
the go ahead sign. My mind was
racing. I felt truly humbled, yet
honored to be able to place this plaque on the wreck.
So much rode on the successful completion of our task.
Both John and I hoped that Murphy (of Murphy’s Law fame) was not in
the water today. John and I were
not just mounting a piece of metal to a rusting
wreck. We were carrying
the hopes and memories of all those on board with us.
We were acting as the representatives for all the family members who
were on board. Some traveled all
the way from Louisiana and Boston for this service.
This was the first time in 38 years that some sort of closure would be
reached for some of them and we did not want to fail them, and I realized that
many more people, friends and families, who were not able to join us would be
thinking of us today.
The
mate gave me the “go” sign. I
took a breath from my regulator and stepped out.
The next thing I knew, I was immersed in the clear blue water of the
North Atlantic. I was kicking
toward the bow, but was making no progress.
Had it not been for the mate and his rope, pulling me toward the bow I
doubt anyone would have been able to make it.
I could see my dive partner about 50 feet in front of me and waiting
for me on the anchor line about 20’ below the surface.
The surface water temperature was a comfortable 73 degrees.
As I reached the bow, I slipped my wrist out of the loop and pulled
myself forward the last 10 feet to the anchor line.
It was a tough 10 feet too.
I swam down to John and he gave me the ok sign, I gave him the ok sign and we both turned and started down the anchor line. The visibility was about 60 feet on the surface. As we descended large long strings of plankton and several large lion’s mane jellyfish drifted by effortlessly in the swift current. We continued our descent down the anchor line as we equalized the pressure in our ears. The water was becoming a darker shade of blue and I felt the first of three thermoclines that we would encounter at 40’below the surface, where the temperature dropped from 73 degrees to 65 degrees. The second thermocline was encountered at the depth of 60 feet where the temperature dropped to 53 degrees. The watercolor at this depth took on a bluish-green hue. Schools of fish started to appear, an indication that we were approaching the wreck. Yet we still couldn’t see it. This concerned me because with the 60’ visibility we had had earlier we should have easily seen the Tower by now.
The
reason why we couldn’t see the Tower materialized in the next few moments.
The reason we couldn’t see the Tower initially was because the
current had caused our ship to swing in such a direction as to have the anchor
line come out over the open ocean area next
to the Tower rather than over
the Tower. In other words, until
we had spied the structure in front of us there was nothing between the ocean
bottom, and us, which was at a depth of approximately 185’.
We touched down on the Tower at the depth of about 120’. We were tied in just below the Upper Airlock Hatchway, which was where we were to enter and attach the plaque to the ladder just inside. As John adjusted his gear and checked his gauges, I quickly opened the canvas bag containing the plaque. The plaque was in perfect condition and had suffered no damage at all in its free fall drop to the top of the Tower. I handed the plaque to John as I closed the bag and reattached it to the anchor line. The video camera was attached to the bag and two additional divers were slated to enter the water to film John and I mounting the plaque. But it appeared that Murphy had indeed been in the water. Because it was later discovered that the surface supplied power cable had pulled out of the camera. So there would be no video shot of the actual mounting. Later in the morning, when the mates reentered the water to untie us from the Tower, they would take an extra few minutes to video the plaque, so that all aboard could see it on the wreck.
John and I quickly swam up to the hatchway and dropped down inside and got out of the current that was sweeping over the wreck. I started to clear off the mounting points of the ladder as John held up the plaque and we positioned it on the ladder. We had decided to put it on the upper part of the ladder where it would be most visible. I pulled out two flathead screwdrivers and handed one to John. We both started to tighten up the stainless steel banding that would secure the plaque to the ladder. There was a mild current that was sweeping down into the hatchway from the opening above, and I feared that the plaque might become bent or start to pull away from the ladder as we attempted to mount it, yet it remained fast against the ladder rungs. It was as if 28 men were holding the plaque in place for us so that we could mount it properly. Within ten minutes we had completed our task. The plaque now hangs on the ladder at about the 110’ depth in solemn tribute to those brave men of the Towers.
Curious fish started to school around us as if to read and approve the plaque. I took a water sample at the base of the ladder and put it in a stainless steel cylinder that I had brought down with me for this purpose. The water temperature was a chilly 44 degrees. I could feel the coldness starting to affect the dexterity of my fingers, but I could still function very well. Of course it was at this time that I would have preferred to be wearing my drysuit rather than my wet suit, which I actually prefer.
We then swam further inside the Tower and entered several rooms. We swam up into the technical support room, which is the highest room in the Tower and swam up and entered an air pocket that had been created from the exhaust bubbles of divers who had been in the tower earlier that day. Both John and I took out our regulators for a moment to smell and taste the air. The air pocket was about six feet square and about 18 inches high. It was heavily laced with an overpowering oil smell. The Tower still leaks small amounts of oil, which can be easily seen on the surface. There was a small sheen of rainbow-colored oil on the surface when we had returned to the boat. We then explored other areas of the wreck and recovered several floor tiles.
A look at our gauges told us that our brief visit to this site had come to an end. So we exited the airlock hatchway, passing the plaque on our way out. As we swam over to our anchor line and started our slow ascent, I noticed a school of small fish started to surround us as we worked our way up the anchor line. When we were about 15 feet above the wreck our finned friends left us and returned to the safety of the wreck. It was as if they were escorting us safely back to our anchor line.
As we ascended the line, the water became bluer and warmer. We completed our required decompression stops and exited the water. We had spent a total of about 63 minutes in the water. That might sound like a long time, yet our time on the wreck was comparatively short.
My dive partner and I exited the water as changed divers. We were given the privilege to participate in this honorable undertaking. We will be forever grateful. After changing out of my gear I gave the bottles of water, the floor tiles and several American flags that I had carried down to the wreck to Don Abbott. He then presented one of each item to the families who were on board and to the representatives of the pile drivers union 56, who lost nine men on the Tower. The families now had a tangible piece of the Tower and a momento of the service. Both Don and Bernie each received a flag and water sample from the site of the plaque mounting. Everyone was presented with a rendering of the Tower as it now appears on the bottom.
The Tower now has a proper monument to mark it as the final resting-place of 28 brave men. Men who did their best in the face of unbelievable conditions to help keep us safe. May God bless their souls.