A day in the life

As a veteran submarine pilot, I find myself drifting asleep behind the joystick all the time. People have often said to me, "You are so lucky to have your job, it's the best in the world!" but the truth is, it's boring. The longer I spend down with the blue whales, pirate ships and manta rays, the more I wish I had become an insurance claims adjuster instead.

A summary of a recent dive to the Juan de Fuca Ridge:

0400 hrs

Descent begins . . .

BRRRRRRRRRRRRR (sound of engine humming)

I start to punch dive coordinates into the on-board computer.

0830 hrs

BRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The ship is now safely on auto-pilot.


1200 hrs

BRRRRRRRRRRRRR

I can't see anything through the ship's porthole. It is pitch black down here without the spotlights on.

I start to thumb through an old copy of SCUBA magazine.


1400 hrs

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

I think I saw something like a piece of seaweed or a fish scale pass in front of the porthole, but it was probably just my imagination.


1800 hrs

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

I arrive at the Juan de Fuca Ridge. Photograph volcanic vents spewing black smoke from the ocean floor.

Toodle around the ocean floor for a while, until the batteries for the spotlights run out.

1845 hrs

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Ascent begins....


And that's pretty much how it goes 95% of the time. The other 2.5% is pure pleasure, and the other 2.5% the boat doesn't start to begin with.