TO DAVY JONES S LOCKER I33 



pounds, or more concisely, 3366.2 tons. So far from bring- 

 ing about an anticlimax of worry, this meant hardly more 

 than the statement that the spiral nebula in Andromeda 

 is 900,000 light years away. Nevertheless I am rather glad 

 that this bit of information was withheld until I had re- 

 turned to the surface. If I had known it at the time I 

 think the two-tenths of a ton might have distracted my 

 attention — that 400 pounds being fraught with rather a 

 last-straw-on-the-camel's-back significance ! 



Like making oneself speak of earthrise instead of sun- 

 set, there was nothing but continued mental reassertion 

 which made the pressure believable. A six-inch dragon- 

 fish, or Stomias, passed — lights first visible, then three sec- 

 onds of searchlight for identification, then lights alone — 

 and there seemed no reason why we should not swing the 

 door open and swim out. The baited hooks waved to and 

 fro, and the edge of one of the flags flapped idly and I 

 had to call upon all my imagination to realize that in- 

 stant, unthinkably instant death would result from the 

 least fracture of glass or collapse of metal. There was no 

 possible chance of being drowned, for the first few drops 

 would have shot through flesh and bone like steel bullets. 



The duration of all this rather maudlin comment and 

 unnecessary philosophizing occupied possibly ten seconds 

 of the time we spent at 1426 feet. 



When, at any time in our earthly life, we come to a 

 moment or place of tremendous interest it often happens 

 that we realize the full significance only after it is all 



