Honolulu Star-Advertiser © Susan Scott
July 7, 1997
While driving to town on the freeway two weeks ago, I heard on the radio that Jacques Cousteau died. I felt sad at first, but talk of his extraordinary life, which included the invention of scuba gear, soon brought forth a flood of pleasant memories.
When I was a kid in the late 1950s, I used to sit cross-legged in front of our little black-and-white television, mesmerized by a show called “Sea Hunt.” I can still see it clearly: Lloyd Bridges swimming boldly underwater, fighting bad guys who routinely yanked his regulator out of his mouth or cut his air hose with a wicked-looking dive knife.
It was scary stuff, but, oh, how I loved the show’s exotic thrills.
Later, along with millions of others, I became a great fan of Jacques Cousteau’s television specials. The marine animals were fascinating, but the divers held me spellbound. How do they breathe through that thing in their mouths? Why doesn’t water get up their noses? Isn’t it terrifying to be deep in the cold, dark water with all those weird animals lurking?
I am tempted to say that it was these television shows of my youth that inspired me to study marine biology and learn to scuba dive, but it isn’t so. The concept of ocean diving was so far from my small-town Midwest existence, I didn’t think it even remotely possible for an ordinary person like me to do it. It was a sport for men, and special men at that.
In my heart I didn’t believe any of it was real. Fish don’t swim up to people like that, I thought, and you can’t be comfortable underwater. It had to be a setup.
It was a long time before I changed my mind. That change came from a marine sanctuary in Mexico.
A friend persuaded me to rent gear and try snorkeling while we vacationed there. I’ll always remember the moment I put my face in that sparkling Caribbean water. A school of bright-blue chromis happened to be passing, close to my face. Giant parrotfish crunched coral nearby, and purple sea urchins littered the sea floor beneath me.
I was dumbfounded. Fish, when they’re protected from fishing, do swim up to regular people, even first-timers like me. Also, I felt warm and was breathing just fine, face down in the water.
Suddenly the possibilities of exploring this new world seemed endless. I vowed to learn the names and habits of these lovely, friendly fish and invertebrates. In a move as brave as anything I’ve ever done, I learned to scuba dive.
My first dive was in Kaneohe Bay, a simple descent from a boat into 20 feet of water. There, with my instructor, I breathed for the first time through a regulator. I, a wimpy Wisconsin woman, could do it! I emerged grinning from ear to ear feeling like Ms. Sea Hunt. (But don’t yank my regulator from my mouth, please.)
Since he died, a lot has been said about Jacques Cousteau. He was a poet, an innovator and a renaissance man. He spoke for a silent world, brought the wonder of the ocean into people’s homes and invented the regulator, a device that allowed nearly anyone to descend and experience the marine world for oneself.
He also spent much of his life trying to save the world’s oceans from ruin. Cousteau preached conservation and strongly encouraged the creation of marine sanctuaries. Perhaps because of his message, that small underwater park in Mexico that so changed my life came into existence.
The only negative words I ever heard about Cousteau were that he was not a scientist, meaning he did not have any graduate degrees in marine biology. Some biologists said his views of the marine world were “popular,” not real science.
Pure jealousy, I believe. Jacques Cousteau probably did more for the advancement of marine science than all the Ph.D.s on Earth put together.
His vision changed my life. I will remember him fondly.