By Heneage Mitchell
We’ve all seen them, documentary movies following the adventures of deep divers researching, finding and finally diving on World War ll wreck sites, record-breaking technical dives breaking new boundaries and setting new records.

TV channels such as The Discovery Channel and the History Channel are where many of these films end up, and they are p[art of the armchair adventure junkies’ staple diet.

The genre has evolved into a fairly predictable format: historical footage of the battleship/destroyer/aircraft carrier/ in its heyday, grainy black and white footage of various encounters (thast may o rmay not actually include the vessel in question), two or three actors running through smoke and flames, bobbing about in oily waters and generally pretending to be an entire crew, former crew members, survivors and naval historians recalling harrowing details of the vessel’s final encounter with the enemy and a serious dive team pondering ascent rates and safety issues, ponderous scratching of head and stroking of chins, the inevitable weather problems compromising the final dive to the site, dark footage of decompression lines snaking away into the depths, and the final emergence of the successful diver as he beaks the water triumphantly after spending two minutes on the wreck and 10 hours decompressing. Include a deep, resonant voice over and some evocative shots of heavy ocean rollers washing endlessly towards a distant horizon (usually at sunset), and it’s a wrap.

Because of the depths involved, rarely if ever, do we actually get to see the deeper wrecks as camera’s would likely flood under the pressure. Also, of course, the diver himself is so stressed and spaced out that it is highly unlikely that he (or she) would be able to operate the camera and still focus on completing the dive safely.

Nitty-gritty
USS Cooper: Return to Ormoc Bay (a Bigfoot Entertainment production directed by Daniel Foster), contains many of these elements, including some pleasing CGI effects. It also has a humorous edge to it, nicely woven in to the nitty-gritty of planning and executing a record-breaking deep dive to place a memorial plaque on a US Navy destroyer that was sunk in Ormoc Bay, Leyte Island, in the Philippines, by a Japanese torpedo on December 2, 1944. This is a movie that the entire family can enjoy, and it has a feel-good ending that is often lacking in such documentaries.

The USS Cooper was sunk by a Japanese torpedo, taling the lives of 191 US sailors. Until American technical diver Rob Lalumiere took an interest in honoring their memory because their tragedy has been forgotten by all but their families and the 168 of survivors who swam to safety on nearby islands or who were eventually plucked from the sea.

The movie traces the events of the 12 days of planning and diving leading up to the attempt to reach the vessel and place the memorial plaque on its decks.

Lalumiere enrolled the help of many of the Philippines’ most experienced technical divers, and the interaction between them provides some of the more compelling contemporary drama in the movie.

Survivor Hank Wagener, a cheery octogenarian, was flown out to Ormoc to witness the dive and participate in a memorial service held above the wreck site. His recollections form an integral part of the story, and his musings on his nightly dreams of water are poignant and particularly apt as his disembodied voice describes the clarity of the water in his dreams over shots of Lalumiere and the support team decompressing in the crystal clear waters above the wreck.

Richard Sementelli, a former sailor on USS Allen M. Sumner, one of the two destroyers that witnessed the sinking of the USS Cooper but fled the scene in fear of their own safety – leaving their comrades behind to the mercies of the sea – and the Japanese – provides a poignant counterpoint to Hank’s musings and recollections. Neither they, nor Veda Kelley, the widow of one of USS Cooper’s young sailors, remain dry-eyed while telling their tales, and you won’t either.

Human drama
But the movie manages to instill some humour and a refreshing light-heartedness into its story of human drama and achievement. Some of the CGI enhancements to old black and white photos, of cigarette smoke wafting across the screen, and sailors hats whisked away by a CGI wind, and excerpts from period movies, provide some comic relief, and, although probably unintended, some of the deliberations between the technical divers working with Lalumiere are actually pretty funny. One scene, in which a meeting is in progress to discuss the significance of an extra 20 meters required to reach the deck of the vessel (the original dive plan had been worked out for a depth of 200 meters, but when they found the wreck it was discovered that the deck was at 220 meters). With only 24 hours to go before the dive, Lalumiere expresses his concern that they are now trying to put together a dive profile in 15 minutes to replace one that he had been working on for eight months. He wants to postpone the dive to ensure the deco tables are correct. But one of the support team points out the plaque has already got the date on it, and so they should at least lower the plaque onto the deck the following day. “Obligation solved” says one, and the support divers stand up and leave the room. The expression on Lalumiere’s face is priceless: the shrug says it all.

Well-filmed
A dive to 220 meters was never going to be easy, and the actual dive, which is surprisingly well filmed, was almost aborted as equipment failures and leaking tanks began to compromise back-up plans. Without spoiling the story, Lalumiere was lucky to have pulled off this dive without serious incident.

That he did so was in no small measure thanks to the support crew, including the veteran Roscoe Thompson (of Action Divers, Puerto Galera) and Frank Doyle (Lalaguna Beach Club, Puerto Galera), the owner of Rags, the principal dive boat, and one of the most experienced and qualified technical divers in the Philippines, whose personality and diplomatic skills clearly shine through as he guides the often-opinionated and undoubtedly sometimes difficult to deal with support team towards sensible decisions and strategies.

Lalumiere himself comes across as a likeable, dedicated and improbable deep diving record holder – but then, other deep diving record holders that I have known, included the late John Bennet, shared the same humble self-effacing traits and dedication to pushing their own personal limits, coupled with the ability to inspire and attract teams of professional and well-qualified support divers.

Given that the dive itself actually set a new world record, in itself a potentially contentious issue, it is gratifying that Lalumiere’s rationale for making the dive, and indeed the overarching theme of the film, is to honor and remember the 191 young men that lost their lives in the tragic sinking of the USS Cooper.

When Lalumiere finaly surfaces after five and a half hours of decompression, the first thing he does is to grab the hand of Hank Wagener’s who is sitting on a small skiff morred next to the deco line tied to the vessel.

“Its’s there, the plaques on it, Hank. Grab the line Hank,” Lalumiere says, and the final shot is of Hank’s age-spotted hand grasping the deco line, a connection to the past that resonates into the future.

Source Link: www.scubaglobe.com