Chapter 3 



THE BIRTH OF THE BATHYSPHERE 



SEVERAL years ago I climbed overboard into the clear 

 waters of Haiti, and after a copper helmet had been 

 lowered over my head and shoulders I slid slowly 

 down a rope two, four, eight, ten fathoms and finally at 

 sixty-three feet my canvas shoes settled into the soft ooze 

 near a coral reef. I made my way to a steep precipice, 

 balanced on the brink, and looked down, down into the 

 green depths where illumination like moonlight showed 

 waving sea-fans and milling fish far beyond the length of 

 my hose. It would have been exceedingly unwise to go 

 much farther, for the steady force of the weight of water 

 at ten fathoms had already increased the pressure on ear- 

 drums and every portion of my head and body to almost 

 forty-five pounds for each square inch. At double the 

 depth I had reached I would probably become insensible 

 and unable to ascend. 



As I peered down I realized I was looking toward a 

 world of life almost as unknown as that of Mars or Venus 

 — a world in which, up to the present time, our efforts 

 at capturing the inhabitants have been pitifully trivial. 

 Modern oceanographic knowledge of deep-sea fish is com- 

 parable to the information of a student of African ani- 



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