Incident At Thirteen Fathoms

[1954bmw]

Jesus, you are going deep sea diving with a broken arm and now I find you speak German, what other tricks you got in that cast????? Waiting with baited breath might explain the taste in my mouth.

 

[Jimway]

The floor of that little structure in the Southeast corner of the pasture down below that mountainous barn could be removed. Underneath those big thick 4x 12 planks was a hand dug well that was plenty wide and 80 feet deep. The perfect spot to do a little trial run on a prototype before any public unveiling. We chained the winch to a cross member on the back of the old farm truck that was just outside the door of the well house. By setting the winch in 'freewheel' one could use the band type brake on the winch and lower the 'diving bell' into the depths. We lowered the bell down the well. At the height of summer, the water level was rather low (an unexpected but fortunate circumstance, as it later turned out). Cranking the bell back up took some doing but up it came and it was still dripping with nice cool well water. I climbed inside and looked around. It was all dry, as I expected. Confidence was high. There had been some cracking and popping of wood, cable, and chain as the structure took the full weight of the rig but nothing to write home about or so it seemed.

 

[Jimway]

It was dark in there as I set on the edge, legs dangling in anticipation of cool water. It was quiet also, only the muffled sound of the drag saw/air supply and the reassuring hiss hiss hiss of air. It wasn't smooth at all, like an elevator might be. It was kind of jerky. I made a mental note to go over this with the topside operator. There came another jerk and then there was this sleightly uncomfortable feeling of weightlessness immediately followed by a soul shattering crack of wood from somewhere above. It sounded kind of funny, like being in a tunnel. The edge upon which I was seated seemed to drop away but just for a moment. Probably a good thing too, as it turned out but at that moment I was suddenly getting a picture in my head of The Flame pulling on the brake lever on the winch and then letting a few feet of cable out and then applying the brake again to give me as jerky a ride as possible. Then the edge of the 'bell' kicked me in the posterior like a mule. A big splash of water followed. It was a little cooler than expected. Touchdown, I thought triumphantly. There was a funny muted scratching sound on top of the 'bell'. I was rather perplexed by that and also as I was getting resituated in the 'bell' there was now a soft floor under my feet. The roof of the 'bell' seemed a little closer than I remembered it too. I figured I'd better get some light on the subject and reached for one of the flashlights.

 

[1954bmw]

This just sounds really bad

 

[Nick616]

Scary - but the fact that you are still here to tell the story makes it a little anti-climactic.

I'm sure "the rest of the story" will be entertaining.

 

[Jimway]

Suddenly, I was swimming along the bottom but what was this? The bottom of the well was somehow attached to the lake that was several blocks away. Oh it was beautiful and calm and remarkably clear. I put my hands together out in front of me above my head and then pulled them down in big arcs to my waist. I was propelled along with surprising speed. There were countless logs just lying there on the bottom. The water was refreshingly cool and inviting. I rolled over on my back and looked up and could clearly see the shadow of a boat floating along up there. Over to the left were the pilings of the dock. There were a couple of local kids swimming around there. Oh it was all quite wonderful until a dark shadow crossed above the lake blotting out the light. It was then pitch black. Cold too. Then my head hurt. I bolted upright to a seated position and put my hands out in front of me like a blinded person might do. Water lapped at my chest. My ears were ringing like when someone has just fired off a big rifle right next to you. It was at about this point that I noticed that the escape springs were beginning to wind up in my legs. I stood up to help relieve a little of the pressure but hit my throbbing head on the roof. What is this, I thought. I put my hands up and could feel the crumpled up top of the diving bell, then the familiar form of a flashlight. Diving bell? Oh, that's right, I'm 80 feet deep in the well. The beam of the flashlight revealed muddy water at my knees. The roof of the bell was crumpled in some, kind of like it had been struck by several hundred pounds of chain, a bunch of cable, and a big winch, maybe even 'The Flame' too. I called out just to see if he might be out there. I listened intently. Aahh, I thought, my hearing is coming back. I could just make out the hiss hiss hiss of the air supply.

 

[1954bmw]

ok, standing by, waiting to find out what happened

 

[Jimway]

I was genuinely concerned that the flame might have been caught up in whatever catastrophe had happened up there. It couldn't be that bad, though,because the air supply was still working. I kind of smirked at the thought of the flame, scared spitless and barely touching the ends of the blades of grass as he flew up the the ranch house in gigantic strides for reinforcements. I should have put in an escape hatch, I thought. It was soft on the floor of the well. The muddy water was cool. I was getting cool. I better put some extra clothing in next time too. I would have sat down but the 'bell' was sunk into the mud a bit. I should have brought a shovel too, I thought. All I could do was wait. It soon became somewhat uncomfortable. Maybe there aint gonna be no next time, I thought. You couldn't quite stand up straight but to sit down would put the water up to the stomach area. I called out a few times to see if anyone was about. It was deathly quiet. The only sounds being the hiss hiss hiss of the air pump and the beating of a heart. Ever so slowly, over the course of what I thought might be several minutes, I began to get the slightest of impressions that the water level was rising inside the bell. This development garnered my full attention. My interest in underwater business began to fizzle. I suddenly realized that a lack of extensive planning and preparation had put me in a rough spot. Yes, there was no doubt about it anymore, the water was now just above my knees. I beat on the roof of the bell and offered words of encouragement to whomever might be listening. If I wasn't already cold, I think my blood might have gone cold at this point. My head hurt but I surmised that it was probably nothing compared to what the future might hold for my posterior. This whole endeavor suddenly had all of the earmarks of a bad idea. Drat.

 

[Jimway]

So the plaster cast was falling apart, another bad sign, but making my right hand somewhat usable again. It seemed like a long time while the water ever so slowly but inexorably rose from the knees to the hips. Valued parts of anatomy were becoming bereft of feeling. It was cold now and waves of goosebumps washed ashore with an accompanying rip tide that was doing it's best to suck me into a ice age. I came to the conclusion that it might be time to take matters of rescue into my own hands and started digging around at the bottom of the bell. It was soft but you had to pretty much get under water to dig. At least I was doing something now. As I popped up for a breath, I detected muffled voices, familiar voices, spoken with an edge of haste. I banged on the caved in roof with the flashlight. There was no response. I banged on the roof intently with one of the metal air cylinders. It got quiet. I banged on the roof again with increased intensity, intense being the word of the day. Something touched down hard on the crumpled roof. "Bang on the tank again" said my Grandfather. I obliged. "Glory be!" yelled Granpa, "He's alive". I relayed the interior conditions with great haste and offered my sincerest wishes to be any where but under there. "I reckon so" said Granpa, "Got anymore holes in ya?" "Any vital fluids leaking out?" he added.

 

[1954bmw]

You really should write a book!!!!

 

[Jimway]

I told him "m m my h head hurts" and warned him, with chattering teeth, that the cast was disintegrating as we spoke. "We got to lift the winch and cable and timber up the well and then we'll lift the tank" Granpa yelled."W wh what happened?" I yelled back. "Ceiling beam broke, jerked the winch right off the back of the truck. Everything ended up right down here. Tank looks like it is smashed flat" yelled Granpa. "We got the crane truck over the well and we'll get ya out in a couple of more minutes". "Th th the Flame?" I yelled. "Shook up some, no damage. Came and got us right away. Been tending to the drag saw ever since" yelled back Granpa. I was proud of my friend. Another set of boots touched down on the roof. "Whats thet funny smell?" asked a familiar voice. "You have an accident or somthin?" "N n no!" I yelled. I told them through chattering teeth that I was lucky that I went to the restroom before I ended up down there. It was my Grandpas best buddy, a guy that we called Mousey. He came across as shy, timid, and kind of nervous but quietly fired off quips ala Bob Hope, non stop. "Seems like we're makin a habit of pullin you out a trouble" he yelled. Right about here he kicked the air line loose. A steady stream of water shot from the ceiling. Mousey let loose nearly his full supply of curse words. Some of the words were still snapping and popping in the air when I let loose my full supply of curse words, some of which I had just learned.

 

[Jimway]

As I was breaking out the surplus pilot rescue breather, I smelled bubble gum about the time the flow of water stopped. It was really quiet now without the hiss hiss hiss of the air supply. The water didn't seem so cold now. I heard them call out for "cable up". There was some scraping sounds on the roof. Within what seemed like a couple of minutes, the men were back. "You OK in there"? "NO!" "Hang tight, we're gonna try to lift the tank" said Granpa. I could hear them hook the cable to the bracket on top of the tank. "Cable up". The roof popped back into somewhat of the shape that it had been before being crushed. Then the bracket ripped clean out, leaving a hole about 5 inches square. The water gushed in quickly. I dropped the flashlight and thrust my hand through the hole. It was dark now. I felt a firm grip. I was breathing through the little metal tank now. With the water over my head now I couldn't make out what was being said but there was a lot of yelling going on. After what seemed like an eternity, my hand was pushed back down and a length of pipe was inserted into the hole. The cable loop was around the middle of the pipe. The pipe extended on either side of the hole. The tank collapsed in on itself as the cable started up. I could feel it in the dark. I was trying to dig at the bottom edge of the tank but it felt like I was moving in slow motion. Some serious hypothermia had set in but I didn't know it. The first tank was now empty and I was groping around for the second one. I found it and with a minimum of joviality I resumed trying to dig myself out.

 

[1954bmw]

Come on Jimway, you was just about to drown, then nothin?????????

 

[Jimway]

I was digging away in pitch darkness at the bottom edge of the 'bell' when it rocked first one way and then another. I was so cold that I was warm now. The 'bell' rose up and away with an ear popping suction. With the 'bell' now gone, it was hard to know which way was up or down. This was the really scary time. The water had been churned into this muddy soup that had found its way into my eyes, nose, mouth, ect. The other spare little air cylinders had gone up with the 'bell'. The one I had was already showing signs of giving out, possibly because of some fast breathing that was going on. The next thing I knew, a big hand scooped me up. I suspected it was Mr. Death or Old Scratch himself. I was relived, to say the least, when I recognised my Granpas voice. "Cable up!". We emerged from the top of the well. "What kind of fish is that?" asked Mousey. "Looks like one of them salamanders, only uglier" he added. "What'd ya use fer bait" came a comment from the peanut gallery. "Better throw it back" came another. I found a place to quickly sit down, fearing that my posterior area might warm up faster than the rest of me might. The Mouse poured some water on my face while my Grandpap looked at my arm. With vision clearing, I noticed that the well house was in a pile. "W what h h happened t t to the well house?" I asked. "Shoved it over to get the crane truck set up" chuckled Granpa. "We was in kind of a hurry at the time" he added. "Guess who's gonna fix it all back up again?" said Mousey. I was really happy to be out of the well. All of the guys gathered around and asked questions about the whole affair and told me about the rescue, point by point. It was now late afternoon. several hours had gone by. The sun never felt so good shining on my skin. The Flame was there helping to wash me down and make a sling for the broken arm that wasn't so broke any more. I was proud of my friend. I looked over at the crushed up tank in awe. There was no doubt that I had been more than a little lucky. I looked over at my Grandpa. He was seated on the back of the crane truck kind of slumped over trying to light a smoke from a pack of Lucky Strikes from his 't' shirt sleeve. His hand was shaking just a bit. Mousey reached over and steadied his hand for a moment. They shared a look at each other. I went over and appologized to him. I thanked all of the guys. "I wonder what Grandma is gonna say about this?" I asked. The Mouse spoke up, "Wall, the whole time you been playin Captain of the Nautilus there" "You mean the naughty luss" came a shout and chuckle from the guys, "If I may please continue?" commented Mousey. "By all means" quiped Granpa. "The women left just before the Flame came barging in this mornin. The way I sees it, they don't know nothin about this here little shenanigan and we should probably keep it that way." "WHAT, you want us to lie about?" came a question from the guys. "Yes" answered the Mouse. "OK" said one of the group. "We just wanted to be clear on it" and smiled. I did learn some things about gravity, water, weight, and myself from the ordeal. I also learned some invaluable lessons in carpentry while I rebuilt the well house. We, as a group, also learned that it is simply an old wives tale that experiences like this turned your hair all white all over. It only turned the hair on your temples white and it disappeared after a couple of days. The shakes hung on for another day or so and then they were gone too for the most part. The Flame and I rebuilt the well house. On the end of the build, as we sat there on the roof sharing a pilfered Colt 45 beer in the late afternoon sun, after nailing down the last piece of ridge cap on the roof, I commented to the Flame, "I got me an idea on how 'we' can get that old motorbike in the shed started" "I don't know" worried the Flame. "Remember what Granpa said" I offered up. "You man enough to kick start that thing, you man enough to ride it".......

 

[1954bmw]

You SHOULD write a book!!!!!