Much like diving, one of the harder learned lessons from traveling is to always be flexible. And patient. After leaving the WWII Valor in the Pacific National Monument in Hawaii, I jumped on a red eye for the mainland. My next destination, after another bout of air travel, would be the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area (GLCA). After a quick layover in my hometown of LA, and a coffee fueled reunion with an old friend, I headed for Phoenix, Arizona for another layover before my final flight to Page. Though groggy and tired, things were going rather smoothly and I could finally start to relax.

That is, until I got a call from the airline an hour before we were supposed to take off. Turns out my flight was cancelled due to mechanical issues. Well, here we go. I was stranded in Phoenix with 5 others; 2 Russians students, 2 Bulgarians students, and a college kid from Delaware. The airline company promised to put us on a bus to Flagstaff, AZ, that night, and then on another shuttle to Page, AZ the following afternoon. Though I wasn’t happy about missing a day in Glen Canyon, I was happy to finally be moving again. We didn’t make it to Flagstaff until close to midnight, but fortunately the 6 of us were able to get the last 3 rooms in the closest motel. After bunking with the Russians for the night, I was glad to be on our way the next day.

Taken at sunrise; the Colorado snakes out of the Glen Canyon Dam and begins its run through the Grand Canyon just a few miles downstream

In Page, later that afternoon, I met up with Scott Norwood, the second in command for the GLCA Dive Team, and my supervisor for the week. After a brief visit to the dive locker and adjacent facilities, Scott took me on a tour of the surrounding area. Originally I wasn’t exactly excited about spending a week in Arizona. It’s hard to follow up American Samoa and Hawaii. But what I saw just around the Ranger Station took my breath away. And that was even before we got on the waters of Lake Powell. The bottom end of Lake Powell is stopped by the Glen Canyon dam, which controls the flow of the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. All of the wonders of the Grand Canyon are reflected in the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, though Lake Powell spaces everything out more. That night I was given the keys to a government Jeep and was off to camp at one of Scott’s favorite spots. I drifted off to sleep at the Lone Rock campground, under the Arizona stars, exceptionally glad to be on the quiet, sandy shores of Lake Powell.

The Cove or the Secret Spot, my secluded camping spot for the week.

I’m not sure what I expected work to be like at GLCA, the only diving we had planned was a dry suit check out later that week. But I definitely got to witness just how hard it is to run a park with thousands of visitors, mostly on the water, everyday. GLCA is a huge recreation area, and is famous for its houseboats. Because the lake draws so many visitors every year, the Park Service has its hands full all summer. All of the docks, both private and government, are floating but moored to the bottom and chained to the shore via heavy wire rope. However, as the steel rusts and erodes, and as the water level changes, the docks need to be moved and the cables replaced. Work in the park starts early, by 6 am you’re expected to be caffeinated and ready to head into the field. The day gets hot quickly and no one wants to be too exposed to the sun for too long.

I’ve worked in some cold places before, but the juxtaposition of seeing the NPS’s diving insignia next to a warning sign about freezing water was still novel to me. Especially since the temperature soared well into the 90’s while I was there.

We set to work moving cables, and prepping the boat for the day. The majority of GLCA is on the water, so the park service maintains a flotilla of multi purpose workboats. The dive team, which has a legacy of excellence through the NPS, uses a 46ft flat-bottomed vessel as its workhorse. Of all the dive boats I’ve been on this one, the 450, was by far the most impressive.

We spent the day, and the better part of the week, meandering through the finger canyons of the lake replacing wire rope and moving docks at places like Dangling Rope and Rainbow Bridge, both popular recreation spots. On our way around the lake we occasionally stopped to service navigation buoys or help out-of-luck boaters. During the course of the week we worked long and hot hours, using heavy equipment and working hard. But every night I got to sleep under the stars, which was a welcomed change from sleeping on couches and planes.

One of the floating docks the Park Service maintains. This one leads to Rainbow Bridge, about a mile hike up from the dock.

Just another gorgeous shot of the Lake Powell in the morning. Taken from my campsite.

However, midweek I got to done my dry suit, which was shipped to GLCA from the good folks at USIA, and jump in the green waters of Lake Powell. I didn’t have much experience in a dry suit, but Scott has spent 5 years with US Navy’s Mobile Diving and Salvage Unit (MDSU) and is an expert diver. We did a quick tour of the government dock and then took the 450 to the “log boom”, just a 1/4 mile above the dam. While replacing the chain on the boom, which catches floating debris before it gets caught in the dam, someone had managed to drop a heavy metal ring used to keep the chain from getting tangled. The substrate underwater mirrors the land above. The sandstone cliffs drop into the abyss, in some places over 400 feet down, with an occasional ledge or two at about 30 feet and 60 ft. Scott and I had planned to drop down the log boom’s anchor chain to about 60ft to look for the ring for no more than 10 minutes. Miraculously we dropped right on top of it in 30ft of water and were able to enjoy the eerie green water for a few minutes. Lake Powell, like many other freshwater lakes in the United States, is badly affected by an invasive mussel, which covers everything in the lake not made of sandstone. Afterwards, Scott and I did two more dives on the Antelope Point launch ramp, doing dock surveys and a ‘salvage’ dive, i.e. treasure hunting for refuse left by careless boaters. Though we mostly picked up fishing line, trash, and beer cans, occasionally some lucky Park Service diver finds a camera or a watch.

Getting ready to jump in the water for some equipment recovery. Our divesite was just about ¼ mile above the Glen Canyon Dam.

Descending under the canyon wall, almost considered an overhead environment, was something new to me. But it made for some incredible moments.

There isn’t much to see in Lake Powell, manly because the sandstone causes the water to be rather turbid even on a calm day. However, diving in the lake was my first time diving in freshwater, at altitude, and my first time diving in a drysuit for a number of years. With Scott as my dive buddy we explored the murky bottom, searched for lost objects, and looked over the edge of a precipice into the eerie abyss at the bottom of Lake Powell.

Scott and I having a little too much fun on a safety stop during one of my check out dives.

Scott hoisting the metal ring we had to search for. That thing weighed close to 20lbs! You can also see the invasive zebra mussels covering the metal chain we ascended and descended on. Zebra mussels cover every surface they possible can.

A shot of Rainbow Bridge – a popular tourist destination, Rainbow Bridge was sacred to the native peoples of this region. It’s hard to grasp the size of this incredible arch.

Although my stay at GLCA was short, all my misgivings about spending time at the inland NPS unit were instantly abated the moment I saw Lake Powell in person. Arizona is a vastly different environment from the tropics of Samoa and Hawaii; it carries its own character and has very specific demands. The Park Service at GLCA deals with a very specific set of concerns, such as being swamped by the wake from a negligent boater while trying to hoist a 600lb buoy out of the water. But they work hard and earn their mettle. My stay in Arizona was short, but it was made very enjoyable by Scott Norwood, Kendra Nez, the maintenance technician who never seemed to take a break from working, and the rest of the staff out at GLCA. Now I get to head back to LA for a few days of R&R before shipping off to the kelp forests of the Channel Islands National Park.

Though the Park is in Arizona, my campsite was just across the Utah Border. It’s hard to grasp the sheer size of this part of the country. But the vistas never disappoint.

Thanks for reading!

After a restless red eye from American Samoa, I found myself on another tropical island in the Pacific. Honolulu, Hawaii, on the island of Oahu, is a bustling city sprawling from the foothills of the Ko’olau Mountains to the blue waters of the south coast. Even at 5:30am traffic is backed up and people are already going about their day. Bleary-eyed and overwhelmed I felt like a fish out of water in this mad city. However, I made my way to the park office later that morning and met the staff of the Valor in the Pacific National Monument in Pearl Harbor. I received a greeting equally as warm as the one I got in Samoa and instantly felt right at home.

After getting established at the visitor center I was given a “passport” to some of the attractions at the park. I met up with Naomi Blinick, the 2011 OWUSS/NPS intern, who is currently working for VALR. We toured a retired WWII submarine, the USS Bowfin, and explored the features and exhibits of this historic park. While every child in America knows the story of what happened in Pearl Harbor the morning of December 7, 1941 few people know the stories of the men and women who were there that day, and the subsequent months as the US’s involvement in the Pacific began.

All of these thoughts were bouncing around in my brain as I took the ferry over to the USS Arizona’s memorial. Moored over the sunken battleship the memorial serves as a testament to those who were lost, and those who survived the brutal and sudden attack almost 75 years ago. My visit to the memorial was especially meaningful as I was planning to dive the Arizona the next morning. But, much like in American Samoa, I would soon learn how sudden events could rearrange even the best­-laid plans.

The next morning (Thursday May 28) I met with Scott Pawloski, VALR’s Park Diving Officer, and Naomi, at around 0800 to load up the park’s Boston Whaler. Just as we were unloading the gear from the Park’s van the first ferry shuttling visitors to the memorial came charging back to the visitor center. The captain of the ferry told us that something had happened to the landing on the memorial, and that he couldn’t dock the ferry. We dropped what we were doing and sped out across the harbor towards the monument to see what had happened.

(PHOTO by US Navy Sailor)

Just moments before we got to the visitor center that morning the floating hospital ship, USN Mercy, was being escorted from its dock adjacent to the monument and the visitor center. Though the final report is unclear, apparently either the Mercy or one of the tugboat-escorts hit the monument’s dock. As we came up to the monument things looked far from good. We were greeted by twisted steel, broken concrete and the landing platform approximately 30ft away from where it should have been. All thoughts of diving were out of the question; at this point damage control was everyone’s main priority.

As we headed back to the visitor center I could see the concern on Scott’s face. He has a strong connection to the monument and knows the Arizona like the back of his hand. Back at the visitor center you could cut the tension with a knife. Although Hawaii exists in a perpetual stare of “island time”, the Park Office, and Navy Command, sprang into action. I did my best to stay out of the way as phones rang and people moved about. The circumstance weren’t exactly good, but I was very impressed by the quick and thorough action and communication the Park Service and the Navy shared over the next few days.

However, the main reason that the Mercy had to move that morning was because the USS Carl Vinson was making its way to Pearl Harbor. Scott had somehow arranged for me to ride along in one of the 4 Tiger tugboats that would be escorted the absolutely massive aircraft carrier to its dock. Although still concerned about the morning’s events, I was thrilled to see first hand how four 100’ tugboats (miniature by comparison) could help escort such an enormous vessel. Of course, they did so with ease and efficiency.

The Navy’s Carl Vinson as seen from Tiger Tug #4.

It’s hard to imagine that Tiger tug is 100 feet long! Four Tigers escorted the Carl Vinson to its dock next to the visitor center.

That afternoon, back at the visitor center the mood at the office was somber, but things were already happening. I made plans with Naomi to do a resource orientation dive on the USS Utah for the next morning. The Utah was one of three ships that the military was unable to raise after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Sitting on her side, leaning at about 45degrees, only part of her hull breaches the water. She is located on the other side of Ford Island, away from the visitor center and from the typical commotion found at the National Monument.

Before our dive on the Utah Naomi gave me a topside orientation. Here you can plainly see how tilted over the battleship is.

Naomi and I about to descend on the Utah.

Naomi and I toured the wreck, and it was unlike any dive I’ve ever been on. Though the visibility is typical better than the Arizona it was still only about 15’ at best. After sitting on the bottom of the harbor for almost 75 years the battleship is fouled with an impressive array of marine fauna. Most of the ship’s features are unrecognizable, only certain structures like the gun turrets give away the true nature of the substrate. Though I have been on dives with a similar feel, every so often some aspect of the ship would reveal itself, and would I get a very eerie feeling.

Leading down to the ship’s interior, this hatch has remained open
ever since the Utah was sunk.

After the dive I returned to the visitor center, just in time for Scott to motion me over to the Park’s Whaler. He told me to jump in and we sped over to the memorial. The Navy never sleeps; already there was a topside engineering crew and a subsurface salvage crew working on the memorial. It was the latter that Scott wanted me to meet. The Mobile Diving and Salvage Unit 1, or MDSU 1, is one of the best diving operations in the business. It was a rare treat to see these guys working in the silty, oily water surrounding the memorial.

As part of a consolation for missing the Arizona, Scott offered to take me on a fun dive to one of his favorite beaches that Friday. However, as Friday chugged along we had to push the dive back further and further. Scott was moving from meeting to meeting trying his best to get the maintenance work on the memorial moving as quickly and efficiently as possible. By some stroke of good fortune I found myself in the Ranger Office listening in on a meeting with the Park’s superintendent, the head ranger, the head of interpretation, Scot, and a consultant. The good news was that the Navy crews were doing their best, but time was not on their side. The superintendent looked at Scott and told him that he needed to do a survey of the Arizona in the next few days to make sure the artifacts and ship were intact, if Scott deemed the conditions safe enough. I could see the gears turning in Scott’s head, and without missing a beat he passed me a sticky note across the table. The note said, “We’re diving the Arizona” and, this being my last day at the park, I knew he meant now.

In our hast to survey the Arizona we sped by the USS Carl Vinson.

Taken as Scott and I descended on the Arizona. Here we’re looking at the visitor center moored over the ship.

With a speed the dead opposite of “island time” we rallied our gear, briefed the dive, and within 45 minutes of leaving the Ranger Office we were speeding to the memorial, having just gotten last minute clearance from the Navy’s harbor patrol. We had just one hour to survey the wreck and get out of there. Scott tasked me to film the dive, and anything he indicated, so he could write a report of what we found. The dive lasted less than 30 minutes, but still it was an amazing experience. Visibility was less than half of what it was on the Utah, which intensified the spookiness of the dive. The Arizona makes herself known to the lucky few divers who get a chance to circumnavigate the wreck. As we swam in a counterclockwise sweep we got momentarily lost in a slit­ out, examined the ship’s artifacts, and saw a school of juvenile ulua, or Bluefin trevally Thankfully there was a light wind, which kept the oil (still leaking out of the ship at about 1L/day) away from us.

A school of juvenile ulua swim over the deck of the Arizona.

Just as quickly as everything ramped up were already on our way back to the visitor center. Although I didn’t have much time in Hawaii, the pace was certainly faster than in Samoa. After saying goodbye to Scott and VALR, I was able to spend my last day in Hawaii on Oahu’s North Shore. Though only active in the winter, the waves of the North Shore are a mecca for every surfer; it was amazing to see the places imprinted in my brain from countless movies and magazines in real life. “Island time” takes over on the North Shore, and it seems I was able to catch my breath after such an exciting week. But now I am trading out tropical Pacific islands for the cold and murky waters of Arizona’s Glen Canyon National Park, after one more solid day of travel of course.

I’d like to say thanks to Naomi Blinick for helping me out and showing me the Utah, and Scott Pawlowski for all of his help and patience. And also a big thanks to my friend Astrid Letiener, who was able to give me a couch to sleep on for the week after my housing fell through at the last minute!

Mahalo, and thanks for reading!