A (Cautionary) Tour of the Mermaid Sapphire
On ships, people fall. They trip on steel combings and tear up an ankle. They tumble down a stairwell and rip open a knee.
On ships, people fall. They trip on steel combings and tear up an ankle. They tumble down a stairwell and rip open a knee.
A sprawling gray raincloud moves in from the west and hangs over the bay for most of the afternoon. The intermittent rain—more like a Scottish mist than a tropical downpour—brings welcome relief from the sun and the heat. After the rain, slim ghosts of steam rise out of the dense green hills.
For the ninth day in a row, the tranquility of this majestic bay is undisturbed by wind or waves. From sunrise to sundown, the warm blue waters around the ship mirror the mountains to the north.
The first 24-hour period after Jim’s 7-hour dive to 12,000 feet (3,658 meters) is filled with intensive debriefing sessions in which the technical and operational truths of the dive are revealed.
Today, Jim spent six hours at 12,000 feet (3,658 meters). Guided by his intuition and headings called down from the communications team on the ship, he travelled three miles (five kilometers) over the seafloor and made separate rendezvous with the two landers, Mike and Andrew.