First Dive Memories

You never forget the sound of your first dive klaxon. Two sharp, piercing blasts that instantly shatter any lingering thoughts of the surface world. I was twenty years old, standing on the control room platform of HMS Resolution. The Officer of the Watch barked: 'Open main vents, dive at fifteen knots.' The hydroplane operators spun the wheels with smooth, practised precision. You felt the boat tilt ten degrees down by the bows, your stomach doing a gentle loop. Through the hull, the roar of the sea outside transitioned into an eerie, absolute silence, punctuated only by the distant hum of the main turbo-generators and the steady report of the depth gauge needle creeping past 50, 100, 200 feet. In that singular moment, you realize the magnitude of the brotherhood you've joined. You trust sixty or seventy other men with your life every single second of the day, and they trust you in equal measure.