ROBERT PALMER BRADLEY 



September 3, 1930— November 28, 1973 



Had I the chance to peel away the years and once again decide which path to follow, it would be 

 towards the sea. I would do this for two reasons: Because it is a most intriguing subject and the most 

 intriguing people are met on and under its surface. Bob Bradley was, what I can only call, a delight 

 and a rare privilege to know. He possessed a sharp, sly sense of humor, a pioneer's sense of adventure 

 and displayed a scholar's interest in the oceans. Naval aviator, commercial diver, submersible pilot and 

 graduate in marine biology are not credentials one would expect from a son of the prairies. But in a 

 quiet, certain, almost casual manner. Bob dealt as easily with the deep oceans as he would have the 

 wheatfields of his native Kansas. He was quick to befriend, perhaps too quick, for the waters he felt he 

 knew and understood claimed his life at 219 feet in Douglas Channel, British Columbia. I miss him; so 

 do the other friends he left. In a very real sense, an earlier pioneer of the deep oceans, William Beebe, 

 described our loss. 



"When the last individual of a race of living things breathes no more, another heaven and another 

 earth must pass before such a one can be again." 



R. Frank Busby 

 Arlington, Virginia 

 January, 1975 



II 



