Almost from the start of their slog, Hoss realized that the mixed-gas breathing system was not producing enough air for him. He felt his mask getting sucked into his face, so much so that he occasionally had to pull it away for a second, a dangerous reflex since he risked inhaling the toxic tunnel air. In reality, Hoss had little choice in his reaction. To survive, the human body needs a constant supply of oxygen, moving through the lungs, into the bloodstream, and then out to nourish the organs and feed the limbs. The body is both hardwired to want oxygen and exquisitely sensitive in detecting even slight reductions in air volume. So when Hoss wasn’t getting enough volume from his oxygen supply, his natural impulse was to suck in on his facemask, desperately seeking a more satisfying slug of air. The same dynamics are at play170 when a child, on a dare from a buddy, begins breathing into a paper lunch bag. Instinctively, he or she will begin taking deeper, more urgent breaths, until finally the child has no choice but to pull the bag away.
When the body fails to get enough oxygen—a condition known as hypoxia—the first sign is usually frustration171. Then comes a fogginess that resembles the slight buzz you get after drinking a few beers, marked by impaired judgment and reduced motor skills. If nothing is done to restore the oxygen supply, the hypoxia will lead to unconsciousness and then inexorably to death. But along the way, the feeling often turns from frustration and fogginess into euphoria. Ernst Rodin, a neurologist who wrote an academic paper about his own near-death experience, called this altered state of consciousness “one of the most intense and happiest moments172 of my entire life.” He attributed the euphoria to a kind of hallucinatory response from his oxygen-starved brain. Other scientists and anthropologists have found evidence of the quest for a similar euphoric, otherworldly experience in various ancient religious practices, such as some of the earliest baptisms, where the person being initiated was submerged under water to the point of173 neardrowning.
Fortunately, Hoss never got past the point of frustration. After a short period of struggle with his facemask, he persuaded Mars that they had to do something. Mars, who had been tapped to be foreman for that day’s excursion crew, had no way of reaching Harald directly. But he did have a two-way comm wire that connected him directly with Tim back in the Humvee, and Tim had a mine phone that connected him directly to Harald. So Mars reached Tim, and Tim called Harald. A few minutes later Tim reached Mars and passed on Harald’s instructions: they should switch to their backup supply of HP air174. The way the setup was designed, the divers could continue to use their same facemasks and umbilicals. It was just that, after Billy stepped out of the Humvee and turned a valve on the outside manifold and Tim flipped a lever on the inside manifold, the source of their breathing air would no longer be the blended gas coming out of the MAP Mix 9000. Instead, it would be the four tanks of HP air strapped to the Humvee roof rack.
Hoss was relieved to find that the change immediately eased his facemask troubles. He and the other two guys resumed their march to the end of the tunnel. When they made it to riser number 4, Mars parked himself there, next to the boat, so he could monitor the manifold. Hoss—all six-foot-five of him—would then take the lead in duck-walking to the end of the tunnel and slithering into the thirty-inch-wide pipes to begin pulling the plugs. However, the divers had already consumed a lot of the HP air, given all the effort it had taken them to get to the end of the tunnel—which was as long as six Holland Tunnels laid end to end. By 6175:25 p.m., Tim informed Mars that they had already burned through two of the four HP bottles on the Humvee roof.
They were finally in position to begin pulling plugs, but Hoss was worried that if they kept working at this pace, they would use up all their air and not have enough to get back to the shaft. After all, the HP air was supposed to be their backup. He told Mars they needed to abort. Once again Mars called Tim, and Tim called Harald, and word came back that they should continue working with the goal of getting at least the first two plugs removed. Harald reminded them that they had an additional HP bottle on the boat that the excursion crew could rely on if needed.
When Hoss heard that, he flipped. “Fuck that!” he yelled through his facemask. “That bottle on the boat is for emergencies'.” Hoss may have been young, but he’d been a diver long enough to know that you never used your emergency air supply to conduct regular work. Even if Mars outranked him on the job, Hoss wasn’t about to put his life on the line out of deference. After some heated back-and-forth, Mars agreed. They packed up the boat, turned around, and began their long walk back to the Humvee. Once there, Hoss spotted something unusual with the liquid oxygen tank sitting on the trailer. There was frost on the tank and its regulator.
When the Humvees finally returned to the ramp at the base of the shaft, there were representatives from contractor Kiewit and construction manager Kaiser waiting for them. A Kiewit representative made a final entry into that day’s shift log. “Day’s work unsuccessfuclass="underline" No plugs pulled176.”
Hoss was still angry as he made it up to topside just after nine-thirty p.m. Following the long buildup, he’d finally gotten to see Harald’s mixed-gas breathing system in action. And as far as he was concerned, it just wasn’t ready for prime time. Being sent nearly ten miles into a pitch-black, oxygen-starved tunnel under the ocean was nerve-racking enough. They shouldn’t be forced to worry about whether their breathing system would be able to keep them alive.
When Hoss got back to his motel room, his lungs were hurting, probably because of the bad tunnel air he’d breathed when he’d been forced to pull away his facemask. He decided to go above Harald’s head. In his five years with Norwesco, Hoss had come to view owner Roger Rouleau as a businessman focused mostly on dollars and cents. But he also knew that Roger had entered the business as a diver, so he hoped the man would take Hoss’s concerns seriously. Roger had stayed back in Washington, but the novel nature of the Deer Island job had drawn him attention in Spokane’s Journal of Business a few days earlier. In a feature story about Norwesco177 and its tunnel project, Roger had told the journal, “We’ve done a lot of wacky stuff. That’s what makes this business fun. The weirder and wackier it is, the better it is for us.”
After Hoss rattled off all the problems they’d encountered, Roger assured him he would look into it. While Roger considered Hoss an excellent worker, he also knew that he was young and felt he had a tendency to be a little mouthy. Maybe the kid was simply overreacting. Still, Hoss’s grievances troubled Roger, since they came not long after Tap’s concerned call from New Hampshire. After hanging up, Roger dialed Harald. Once again his project manager had reassuring answers. Harald admitted there were some glitches in the setup, but he stressed to Roger that they were working them out. In fact, he had just left a detailed message for the guy who had sold him the MAP Mix 9000, asking for guidance in addressing the pressure problems Hoss had experienced. Harald told Roger that he had a sound plan of attack. “This is going to work well,” he said.
Even though Roger was the boss, he had always felt intellectually intimidated by Harald. That plus his boundless faith in Harald’s abilities led Roger to accept these assurances, even if a small part of him wondered whether he should press a bit more.
170 (Chapter 8, note 9)
The same dynamics are at play: Dr. Marie E. Knafelc, interview by author, May 2012.
171 (Chapter 8, note 10)
the first sign is usually frustration: G. S. Tune, “Psychological Effects of Hypoxia,”
172 (Chapter 8, note 11)
“one of the most intense and happiest moments”: Ernst A. Rodin, “The Reality of Near-Death Experiences: A Personal Perspective,”
173 (Chapter 8, note 12)
under water to the point of near-drowning: Calvert Roszell,
174 (Chapter 8, note 13)
switch to their backup supply of HP air: Trooper Mary McCauley, “Sudden Death/Deer Island, Winthrop/07/21/99,” Massachusetts State Police Suffolk County Detective Unit, January 14, 2000, 6-7.
175 (Chapter 8, note 14)
By 6:25 p.m., Tim informed Mars: Grob topside log, July 19, 1999.
177 (Chapter 8, note 16)
In a feature story about Norwesco: Kim Crompton, “Diving for Dollars in the Deep,”