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The Dive

The rays of the setting sun, softened by the ever-present sea mist of salt crystals and moisture, flooded the empty cockpit of the cabin cruiser ARGONAUT. Anchored a dozen miles from shore in California's Santa Monica Bay, she rocked to the rising watery swells that slapped monotonously against her transom. Her dive flag and coast guard pennants beat starboard, drowning the cries of the distant gulls.

With an audible click, the cockpit door swung open. The boat's captain and sole occupant ascended the companionway steps to the cluttered deck and made his way to the stern rail. Tall, fair haired and muscular, the forty-five year old diver scanned the horizon with chromium blue eyes. Everything was in order. The job waited twenty fathoms below.

With lower torso clad in light gray wet suit pants, Mike Nelson began assembling his dive gear. Talcum powder assisted his arms into the matching gray wet suit jacket, and with  the navy depth gauge buckled to his right wrist, he slipped the expanding bracelet of the Rolex over the left. A pair of dark blue Voit Viking fins were next, wetted in a bucket of sea water and pulled over bare feet. His regulator was a twin hose Voit, with a soft pearl-gray hose, attached to a set of twin thirty-eight cubic foot bottles

He took a couple of short breaths to test he air supply, and with a surprising ease, lifted the heavy unit over his head to drop it into position on his back, the shoulder straps falling neatly into place. Chest straps, crotch and waist straps were fastened by a clever loop through the "D" ring buckles leaving the free end for a quick release. With a short hop the weight belt swung up between the tanks and into the small of his back. It was fastened at the front by an over center buckle.

Hanging from the belt on the ring was a short Vulcan knife. Two magnesium flares were snapped to the carabiner on the left. A quick bend at the waist brought the twin hoses of the regulator arcing over his head and the mouthpiece landed against his chest. The large blue mask came last. Its single, oval lens had been rinsed clear in a bucket of water and Mike positioned it on his forehead.

Then with one smooth motion derived from years of practice, Mike again surveyed his surroundings, slipped the mask down over his eyes and nose, placed both hands on ARGONAUT's mahogany rail and plunged head first over the side. By gripping the rail he insured that his body would pivot to fall tanks first into the sea. and so the story begins....

(Taken from, "Sea Hunt. Television's Epic Underwater Adventure" by Kent Rockwell for Historical Diver Magazine, Number 17 Fall 1998. part of an upcoming book called "Sea Hunt, Argonaut to Ziv".)

Rare promotional key chain coin given to Sea Hunt cast and crew.

e-mail: argonaut@seahuntadventures.com

A R G O N A U T 

san diego,ca.