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This is a multi-part message in MIME format. --------------252B4C9FC79549110D157486 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Dan, Thanks for posting that article. I originally read it when it was published, I was dismayed and frustrate, but didn't think about posting it myself at the time. The problem is, I teach and dive in Ontario, Can. Unfortunately, the TDI Stroke Factory is the predominant Tech agency here. When the so called LEADER of a major Tech agency promotes the idea that dope and diving, along with 300 foot air dives as a joke, how can one respect anything he says. I don't care how experienced he is. Would you let even the most experienced surgeon cut into your heart if he was a dope smoking yahoo? Unfortunately, this "Doing it wrong" attitude seems all to common here. I was lucky, somebody recommended that I attend cave training in Florida and was taught by Tyler Moon, an excellent instructor. Now that I dive Hogarthian and mix. instead of deep air, other divers look at me like I am a wacky witch doctor. I realize that GUE is just starting, but I hope JJ has an eye on Canada as well. Hell we certainly need the help! Regards Tim Dan Volker wrote: > Brett Gilliam/TDI head....Do drugs and heading an agency mix? Mounting Death > toll says NO! > > A number of people have found my hammering of Brett Gilliam and his �tech > agency�, TDI, to be unkind and un-called for. As the death toll of advanced > recreational divers gravitating to transitional and tech skills has > skyrocketed, and Brett�s deep air ideas implicated in the majority of them, > you might begin to wonder what kind of man would allow his own instructor > trainers, instructors,and new students off the street, to engage in a > practice so completely implicated in an escalating death toll. > Some WKPP members have even called Gilliam a pot smoking slob----his > behavior making him unfit to set an example as the head of a training > agency. > The story below should go along way toward explaining the justifications of > our past posts.... > > SEX , DRUGS AND ROCK & ROLL > ( OH YEAH, AND DIVING TOO) > BY BRETT GILLIAM > >From the Scubatimes article at > http://www.scubatimes.com/scubatim/adj_sexdrugs.html > > There are few opportunities in life that allow almost complete and > unmitigated indulgence in whatever may hold your personal interest. But, > over the years, my career in professional diving and tropical travel has > occasionally hit a serendipitous home run. > Consider that I was actually asked by the U.S. Navy in 1971 to volunteer to > smoke copious quantities of marijuana and then perform otherwise mundane > tasks underwater, such as assembling pipe puzzles, taking psychological > tests and tying a few simple knots in brightly colored lines of various > diameters. > All this while belching clouds of bubbles and trying to ignore how > terminally amusing the antics of the Virgin Islands sea cucumber could be. > Of course, I had nearly fallen to my knees in my rush to be the first to > volunteer for this dangerous, but strategically necessary, experiment. Go > ahead, call me a patriot. Someone had to do America�s dirty work while > everyone else was back home protesting. > Then, a year later, I got a call asking if I would consider taking a > four-week assignment to supervise the ocean scenes in an early "adult" film > to be shot in Virgin Gorda. Apparently, there would be a lot of cavorting in > tidal pools along with naked swimming (and other activities absolutely > necessary for full artistic plot development) just off the pristine sand > beaches of the Baths. And they needed a crack professional to make sure that > no one poked any soft parts into an urchin or something. I was quick to > point out that I was additionally qualified to smoke marijuana and tie > knots. I think those previously acquired job skills put me over the top in > their selection process. Anyway, I can assure you that there are few better > ways to pass a month in the Caribbean than surrounded by nubile beauties > with more than a passing interest in rope tricks. My own version of the GI > Bill was coming along nicely. > Many years later, when I operated a fleet of large motor yachts in the > luxury charter trade, similar opportunities would present themselves and I > was glad to have gained valuable experience on earlier assignments. While on > a charter with the Rolling Stones off Montserrat, bass player Bill Wyman > coaxed me into relating the circumstances of my Navy experiment. This > immediately drew the attention of Keith Richards, who, as it turned out, was > a huge fan of pipe puzzles and tying things up. We got along famously and I > like to think that my input helped him to further the advancement of > valuable work in this exciting field. > > So in 1987, when I was contacted by a group of investors who were putting > together the Ocean Quest company � which would operate a 500-foot cruise > ship for divers in the western Caribbean � I didn�t hesitate. By that time I > had learned that, no matter how zany a project could sound, inevitably > someone with seriously deep pockets might want to finance it. As Ben > Franklin might have put it, "A fool and his money... are some party!" > They wanted me to do a whole series of projects for them in advance of their > start-up. Like design the 10 35-foot dive boats, the recompression chamber > facility, the air system, hire the staff, buy the diving equipment, write > the operations and safety manuals, and, oh yeah, go to the Mexican Yucatan, > Belize and Honduras to scout locations. > Any job description that includes the phrase "scout locations" immediately > gets moved up a notch or two in my consideration. Especially since they did > not mean scout locations for toxic landfills in New Jersey or some other > less compelling mission. > So I went to work to plan an itinerary that would allow the ship to place us > in reasonable proximity to the best diving, while affording a comfortable > anchorage that might amuse our non-diving guests. Things proceeded quite > well and, a year later, most of the advance work was completed and we had > bought a ship. Now we had to finalize the route for each week�s voyage. So > it was decided that three of us "executives" would take a gym bag full of > cash and go resolve all the pesky little details like port entry fees, local > agents, and government relations. Sort of like Ollie North�s mission with > the Contras, but without any ramifications for the Republican party. > Mexico, with its traditional ports of Cancun and Cozumel, was pretty much a > known product, offering two distinctly different types of diving > opportunities. Essentially, Cozumel had fabulously beautiful reefs, > boundless marine life diversity, absurdly clear water and a lovely "old > world" feel to the bustling local town of San Miguel. > On the other hand, Cancun�s diving basically "sucked." That�s a technical > term for "bad viz, no fish, and not much in the reef department." > Belize, however, was a different story. We wanted to concentrate our > visitation on the offshore atolls, where we had plenty of room to maneuver > the ship, and excellent dive conditions. Our concept was to have the mother > ship deliver us and our dive boats to an area, and then stand off while our > guests tapped into the virgin waters for two or three dives before > rendezvousing for food and air fills. Then each boat would head out again > for the afternoon. > But, unlike the average dive operator, who had to satisfy maybe 20 divers or > so on a couple of dives a day with one boat, I had to multiply that by 10! > That meant I needed enough good sites to spread out all these folks without > them bumping into each other, while putting them on sites spectacular enough > to keep them stoked. That basically worked out to 40 to 50 primo sites, > spread over a 15-mile radius from the ship. > Our local agent, Stanley, set me up with a charter sailboat guide named > Gino, who purportedly knew all the atolls on a first-name basis. That was > easy to believe since I had yet to meet anyone in Belize who seemed to have > a last name � "Mr. Gilliam, we�d like you to meet our Minister of Tourism, > Ralph." Maybe Madonna was really from Ambergris Cay. > So, as Gino and I pounded our way 65 miles to windward in search of > Lighthouse Reef atoll, I outlined my plan of attack. Gino was a veteran > scuba guide who was used to the rigorous schedule of about four dives a week > with his charter guests. Thus, when I started explaining that I wanted to do > about 10 to 12 dives a day to maximize our exploration and identification of > suitable sites, he expressed some trepidation. > "Look, mon, ya can�t do dat many dives or we�ll be bent up like pretzels by > lunchtime," he said. "And I�m not getting bent for $40 a day." > I understood his reluctance and we swiftly confirmed that his price to be > bent like a pretzel by lunch time was more in the order of $50 a day. With > those delicate negotiations handled faster than Paula Jones can find a new > lawyer, we settled into a discussion of my dive plan. > "There�s no reason why we have to dive deep at all, since the wall begins in > water about 15 feet deep," I explained. "With the great visibility we can > jump in, look around briefly and set the coordinates for our site buoy. We > mark it on the chart and move on to the next site. I doubt if we�ll ever > need to go deeper than 40 feet or so. That will give us a huge window for > exploration without running up a lot of bottom time." > Gino could see the wisdom of this cunning plan and eased us into a sandy > spot adjacent to the precipitous wall at Long Key. Just looking down from > the boat, I could see that this was going to be a great dive. The top of the > wall featured exquisite coral growth and then dropped off nearly straight > down into a blue abyss. Gino said I should go first and he would hand me my > camera and then meet me under the boat. Great plan, well-thought-out all the > way. > But, when I reached to rinse my mask on the swim platform, the watchband pin > on my solid-gold Rolex Submariner chose that exact moment to break. About > $20,000 worth of precision Swiss technology bounced once off the side of the > boat and began spiraling over the drop-off. > Not good at all. > Luckily I was already mostly into my gear and I crashed off the platform, > mask in hand, madly finning after the plummeting timepiece. Gino watched in > bewilderment and wondered at my enthusiasm to get in so quickly. Meanwhile, > I watched my Rolex rebound off a purple sponge and disappear over the edge. > It had a good start on me, but kept ricocheting off parts of the slope, > slowing down just enough to entice me to pursue it. Finally, it came to rest > on a narrow ledge at nearly 300 feet. I grabbed it and started up. > Observing the necessary decompression took a while, > > and I surfaced to find Gino eyeing me with the kind of look you might give > teenagers who play in traffic. > "So tell me again," he deadpanned. "How many dives a day were you planning?" > "No, you got me all wrong," I apologized. "I won�t do that again. I just > dropped my watch and I had to retrieve it � it�s worth a lot of money... > even more than $50 a day." > Gino looked unconvinced but I suggested that we take the rest of the day off > and just lay out some snorkeling sites, and he calmed down. > We spent the night on Half Moon Caye and had dinner with the lighthouse > keeper, who had guests drop in roughly every fifth year or so. He seemed > fascinated that we wanted to bring tourists to his island and was endlessly > expounding on the exciting features of the atoll. > "Ya gotta see da pink boobies," he effused. "Ya won�t wanna miss dat." > Being a booby fan from way back and noting the sans-suit penchant of the > ladies in the sailboat anchored just off the beach, I began to recount my > adventures with the X-rated film crew in Virgin Gorda. Then Gino broke our > mood by noting that our host was referring to the pink-footed boobies, > feathered fowl which resided in the bird sanctuary at the island�s west end. > Let�s just say that my impression of that attraction the next morning paled > in comparison. > We hit about a hundred great sites in the next week while living on the > island and finally decided to wrap up our work with a trip to the famous > Great Blue Hole, located inside the reef, 10 miles from Half Moon Caye. > As we prepared to drop in, Gino gave me his best serious dive-guide face. > "This is about 460 feet deep and it goes straight down," he said quietly. > "If you drop your watch or any other family jewels, just let �em go, mon, > okay?" > I agreed. > Later on I re-kindled his subliminal interest in pipe puzzles and nautical > knots with the girls on the sailboat. They all agreed that we had the basis > for a very successful cruise experience. Maybe the Navy might be interested > in a long term experiment. I had the volunteers. > Bret Gilliam was vice president of Ocean Quest, the largest sport diving > operation in the world, from 1988 to 1990. > They routinely conducted over 1000 dives a day on weekly voyages, and made > frequent visits to the booby sanctuary. > Gilliam is now CEO of UWATEC and president of Technical Diving > International. > March/April 1998 > > -- > Send mail for the `techdiver' mailing list to `techdiver@aquanaut.com'. > Send subscribe/unsubscribe requests to `techdiver-request@aquanaut.com'. --------------252B4C9FC79549110D157486 Content-Type: text/x-vcard; charset=us-ascii; name="vcard.vcf" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Description: Card for Tim Ross Content-Disposition: attachment; filename="vcard.vcf" begin: vcard fn: Tim Ross n: Ross;Tim org: Diverse-Tek email;internet: diverse.tek@sy*.ca* x-mozilla-cpt: ;0 x-mozilla-html: FALSE version: 2.1 end: vcard --------------252B4C9FC79549110D157486-- -- Send mail for the `techdiver' mailing list to `techdiver@aquanaut.com'. Send subscribe/unsubscribe requests to `techdiver-request@aquanaut.com'.
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