The hero of this story is a guy named Ken, who is the owner of Ultimate Dive Travel, and who booked and joined a group of D2D buddies, including me, on an 11 day trip to the Galapagos in September 2005. As a veteran of 200+ dives in the Galapagos Islands, and thousands of dives worldwide, Ken is a highly experienced diver. He has graciously agreed to let me share his story.

Ken was not "working" on this trip. Our group chartered the entire boat through his dive travel business, and as a good friend of one of the group, he was invited to join in, so he took one of the spots. In no way was he hired to be a "dive guide", "leader" or hold any other position of responsibility. He was one of us, on holiday.

For those not already in the know, the Galapagos Islands offer insanely good diving, but at the cost of very challenging conditions, at least in several areas, including the northerly, remote, current-swept islands of Wolf & Darwin. As Ken puts it: “In Galapagos the currents are ripping most of the time. It is NOT a place for an inexperienced diver, or a person who panics easily, but I do think it is the best diving destination on Earth for big animals.”

One morning at Darwin’s Arch, several days into the trip, Ken did not appear to surface after yet another adrenaline-producing outing, and no one remembered seeing him since the early part of the dive. His dingy group had gone out into the blue (looking for whale sharks that are known to cruise the area just off the reef edge), and no one noticed that Ken had turned around and had headed back to the reef. As an explanation, the 14 of us on the trip were all pretty much same-ocean, photographically-fixated/very experienced divers who have been somewhat conditioned to occasionally keep half an eye on the yellow tank of the dive guide, at least in this location ;^) However, some of the best photography/videography opportunities, especially for sharks like we were seeing in massive schools on this trip, mean going off on your own a bit, away from all the bubbles that scare the fish.

Aggressor respects the abilities of competent, experienced divers. The two divemasters who were in the water for most dives on this itinerary were presented more as "dive guides" than as chaperones. In the briefings at Darwin & Wolf Islands, where the currents are strong, it is recommended that you stay within sight of the yellow tank (dive guide), but was not insisted upon. Buddies are also recommended, but not enforced.

In Ken’s words, “I didn't try to end up alone at first :) The group took off after a whale shark into the blue. I came back to the dive site, and finished my dive, taking pictures of Galapagos sharks.”

It shouldn’t have been a biggie, given his level of experience, except that Ken was caught up in a strong current while doing his (open water) ascent and safety stop and was taken in a different direction than that of the rest of the group.

Ken is not the only diver who has found himself alone in the Galapagos. In the murky conditions and big currents we experienced during this trip, it happened to other divers on our boat, especially after we had left the reef to ascend. And I will confess it happened to me on a previous visit to the Galapagos when the group left the reef, and I did not notice because I was trying to take pictures of elusive yellow puffer fish, while everyone else was checking out the whale shark ;^)

Ken says, “When it was time to go up, I looked up and saw the surf crashing above me... no big deal, I just swam away from the surf area, just like a diver normally would, then did my safety stop”.

The confluence of three major ocean currents at Darwin Island draws an amazing cast of creatures to this hallowed place. In simple terms, the currents are weird and wild. They create diving conditions that can confound even a very experienced diver.

On the surface, Ken found being himself swept back into a strange, mid-ocean surf zone that curled up in the fairly rough seas that day between Darwin Island and the Arch.

The boat issues emergency gear: folding dive flags, Dive Alerts, and epirbs. The safety briefing on this boat includes strategies for getting detected should one find oneself out of sight of the zodiacs upon surfacing. The first thing to do is to snap together the folding dive flag that you stow on your gear, to signal the zodiacs, if they don't acknowledge pretty quickly that they have seen you. This does not indicate emergency, it just lets the crew know where to pick you up. The next level of attention-getting is using the Dive Alert horn. It is streamlined (it goes on your bc inflator hose) but can be quite effective. But watch your ears, they're loud, and you need to have some air in your tank for it to work. They also won't do much good if the boats are far away or there is alot of background noise. And, if you are really hooped, deploy your epirb (electronic emergency transmitter that is attached to your gear by the crew on arrival). Get it out, turn it on, hold it out of the water, and the boat will use technology to locate you. Also underlined is the importance of surfacing quickly (after doing a safety stop, but don't dawdle) should you ever find yourself alone in the blue, off the reef. It is easy in the Galapagos (and lots of other places too) to travel significant distances in a short time in current. Unless you have a point of reference, you have no clue how fast you might be traveling. And you are more vulnerable to unwanted attention from the big bad boys out in the blue when you are flying solo too.

Ken had removed his Aggressor-issued folding dive flag from his rig when tweaking his gear, and had neglected to replace it. His flag should have been visible in the conditions that day (assuming it didn’t get knocked down or broken by the waves that were battering him), even at a great distance, and not seeing it had us all very worried.

“When I surfaced I was at about 300 PSI... no problem at all. But then the current brought me into the area of big surf, but far enough from the rocks that at least I had no concerns about them. The waves were about 6 ft high and were pounding on me hard, so I kept my reg in mouth until there was no more air in my tank.“

And then the sphincter clencher:

“That's about the time my little Silky buddies all showed up.”

Silky sharks are inquisitive, bold creatures that are not very well liked by most divers. They tend to show up when there is activity on the surface, and like a gang, they intimidate with their numbers and their brazenness. Most divers I know choose to get out of the water as quickly as possible when these guys make an appearance.

Ken tells it straight up: “For about 35 minutes non-stop I was beating the hell out of a dozen or so of them with my camera and a weight pouch, and they can take some good shots, I'll tell you that. I had 6 lbs in that weight pouch, and I hit most every Silky that came near, but they just kept coming back, and coming back, pesky little bastards that they are. LOL. In my opinion, they never tried to bite me, just bump and test is more like it.”

While Ken was trying to discourage his entourage of sharks, both Aggressor mother boats and their combined 4 dingies were undertaking an extensive search of the area.

The boats circumnavigated Darwin Island and the Arch looking for Ken on the shore or in the shallows (or, God forbid, at what the Aggressor divemasters affectionately call No Dive Aqu?, which is the legendary diver-crunching dark side of the Arch), and then started searching farther out to sea, in the event that he had been swept out into the daunting horizon. It was extremely tense for all as a very long time elapsed with no sign of Ken.

With the long lapse of time and the realization that the boats could not see him in the swells, Ken knew that the only way he was going to be saved from his predicament was to either swim the distance to the inhospitable rocky shore of Darwin Island and try to get out of the water there, and/or to successfully send out an epirb signal. Epirbs (electronic location transmitters) are sometimes issued to divers in current-swept areas by higher end dive operators. Aggressor issues them on both their Galapagos and Cocos Island itineraries. And that is a good thing.

Ken’s epirb transmitter was in a protective pvc case that had been zip tied onto his tank strap by the boat crew. It had to be deployed and switched on for it to start sending a signal.

As Ken tells it: “I had to take my gear off during all this because the epirb was strapped of all places to my tank strap. I also needed to swim hard to get away from the large waves that were swamping me.”

Whilst fighting off the sharks and trying to avoid drowning in the surf, Ken miraculously removed his gear, switched on the epirb, and held the transmitter out of the water so it could send.

The signal from his epirb was detected by the boat crew (and by the dive-bombing Galapagos booby birds, which repeatedly tried to nab the antenna as he held the unit out of the water!) and to the great relief of all, one of the dingies was finally able to locate him, in high waves, close in to the rocky shore. He had been on the surface, alone, literally fighting for his life, for over an hour and a half.

Ken is a tough guy, and a survivor. His story of beating off inquisitive sharks while avoiding drowning and/or being swept away in current is the script of my worst nightmare, but there are good lessons there too. The most important takeaways are equipping yourself with the right safety equipment for the kind of diving that you are doing, and having the presence of mind to not panic when you find yourself in a challenging (to put Ken’s situation mildly) situation.

Here’s how Ken sizes up the incident and its outcome: “I stayed calm and used my head. I was thanking God that it was me out there and not a less experienced diver, because they would have most likely died. Total surface time waiting, approximately 1 hour and 40 minutes! That's a long time when no one can see you. When I saw the dingy finally heading my way, with Nelson on the bow, I was the happiest guy on Earth!”

Here are some survival strategies, and lessons learned, courtesy of Ken:

“Stay with the dive plan, and the group. While I did stay pretty much to the dive plan, Mother Nature in Galapagos has her own mind, and a strong mind it is. It seemed to start out as just another wonderful dive in Galapagos, but then like has happened sometimes before, I found myself alone.”

“Don’t let the fact that you are a very experienced diver allow you to become complacent about your gear.”

“If you are issued an electronic signaling device, make sure you can get at it, without having to take your tank and BC off.”

“Don't forget your dive flag or surface marker buoy!!!” (Aggressor issues folding 6 ft high dive flags to every diver in the Galapagos for signaling at the surface, which work better in the wind there than a safety sausage, plus Dive Alert horns and epirbs).

“Have a way to clip off things like cameras, so that you can have both hands free if necessary.”

“Stay calm, and keep planning your next attempt at having someone see you and/or where you could swim to get out of the water. Keep your mind busy, it helps you to keep from panicking.”

“In remote places like the Galapagos, dive with the best dive operator you can afford, not the cheapest. The cheapest could be your last trip.”

Ken is not the kind of guy to play it up, but those of us who were on the boat know what a scary scenario this was. We are all so glad that he lived to tell the tale. Thanks to Ken for his willingness to share his experience, and for ultimately educating others through his lessons learned.

© JudyG 2005

More material on the Galapagos:
Hitting the G Spot - A Galapagos Photo Essay
Galapagos Photo Galleries 2005 - Underwater
Galapagos Photo Galleries 2005 - Topside
Galapagos Photo Galleries 2003
Galapagos Slideshow - Whacked by a Whaleshark
Published Galapagos Slideshows (Golden Dolphin CD Magazine) - Beyond Words & Galapagos on the Edge

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