Adventures of a Sea Hunter_ In Search of Famous Shipwrecks - James P. Delgado [10]
I’ve already studied one shipwreck, the Civil War ironclad USS Monitor, for historic landmark status. Now I’m on my way to Pearl Harbor to carry out a similar study of the battle-ravaged Arizona and the nearby USS Utah, both sunk on December 7, 1941. Dan Lenihan and the Submerged Cultural Resources Unit of the National Park Service have invited me to join them to dive at the site of the first action in America’s war in the Pacific. Congress had passed a law making Arizona, still the responsibility of the Navy, a memorial to be jointly administered by the Navy and the National Park Service.
Most of the initial survey work on Arizona and Utah has been done, but I will dive with the team on both wrecks as part of the historic landmark study. I’ll also be participating in a side-scan sonar survey of the waters outside Pearl Harbor to search for a Japanese midget submarine that was sunk just before the attack commenced, a warning that was not heeded in time. The midget sub sank in deep water and has never been found.
BATTLESHIP ROW! USS ARIZONA
Standing on the narrow concrete dock while a group of tourists slowly files into the Arizona Memorial, I look across the waters of Pearl Harbor’s Battleship Row. The battleships are gone, their places marked by white concrete quays that the U.S. Navy has kept painted for more than four decades. The names on the quays are those of the battleships that were moored to each on the morning of December 7, 1941: USS Nevada, USS West Virginia, USS Tennessee, USS Oklahoma and, directly in front of me, USS Arizona. Unlike the other ships, which have only a painted name to mark their passing, Arizona rests in the water below me.
Around me is a group of other divers drawn from the ranks of the National Park Service and the U.S. Navy, all of us preparing our gear and suiting up to jump into the dark green waters of the harbor. The water is too warm for a wetsuit, but bare skin is no protection against barnacles and rusted steel, so I pull on a pair of Park Service dark green coveralls before strapping on my weight belt, tanks and gear.
A perspective view of USS Arizona, from the stern. Drowingby by Jerry L. Livingston, courtesy USS Arizona Memorial Association
After reading dozens of books and poring over files and interviews with men who fought here on that tragic day, I’m ready to explore a ship that precious few have been allowed to visit. Arizona is a war grave, and as many as nine hundred of her crew are interred within the crumbling steel of the battleship. This is sacred ground for Americans, and a potent symbol of a long and terrible war that, for the United States, began here. Only a handful of divers have been allowed to go beneath the surface and explore the ship.
The large American flag flying over the wreck of Arizona waves lightly in the warm breeze against a bright blue sky. I pause for a second, then turn back to my gear checks and final preparations. With my dive partner on one side, we stride together off the dock, splashing into the murky water and sinking 45 feet to the soft muddy bottom. We can’t see more than a couple of yards ahead as we adjust our buoyancy. Floating gently over the mud, we swim slowly towards the wreck.
My subconscious registers the looming presence of the hulk before I realize that I see it. Perhaps it is the shadow of the wreck’s mass in the sun-struck water, masked by the silt, but there, suddenly darker and cooler. My heart starts to pound and my breath gets shallow for a second with superstitious fear. This is my first dive on a shipwreck with so many lost souls aboard. I flick on my light and the blue-green hull comes alive with marine life in bright reds, yellows and oranges, some of it the rust that crusts the once pristine steel. As I rise up from the muddy