158 AT THE END OF THE SPECTRUM 



weeks that preparation was almost instinctive; John Tee- 

 Van was in charge of closing the bathysphere and of the 

 three deck winches and the activities of the crew in lower- 

 ing and raising it; Gloria Hollister, as before, had the upper 

 ear-phones and was responsible for the recording of all my 

 observations; Jocelyn Crane sat by her with charts for 

 recording time, depths, and temperature; Otis Barton and 

 myself were, as usual, to make the dive in company. 



The bathysphere was on deck at 12:50 p.m. which gave 

 us only about a half hour to prepare for our descent in 

 order to emerge before dark. Somehow or other this was 

 done, and in spite of everyone seeming to be in everyone 

 else's way we made a final survey of all instruments and 

 apparatus and at 1:15 p.m. crawled painfully over the 

 sharp-threaded bolts and curled up on opposite sides of 

 the sphere. I arranged my instruments, flashes, and note- 

 books around me, tucking them away safely as a hen does 

 her setting of disturbed eggs. 



At last the door was lifted and clanged into place, and 

 then came the terrific hammering home of the ten great 

 nuts. The spectroscope and illuminometer were passed into 

 the central four-inch hole, and with a last word, the wing- 

 bolt was quietly revolved home and the noise and air of 

 the outside world shut off. Our oxygen began to send forth 

 its life-giving stream, I called a Hello! through the half- 

 mile of cable and we were oflf. For about fifteen feet we 

 might have been in Piccard's gondola, for we soared up- 

 wards toward the sun. But this was only as far as the head 



