The SAPONA, broken in half by the hurricane of 1926, rests in 30 feet of water. Photo by Ellsworth Boyd.

In choosing a favorite, we might seek out the history of the ship, what it was transporting, how it sank, and other links that lead to the joy of exploring a ghostly structure resting on the bottom of the sea. The tale might come first, before the exploration, or perhaps it can be researched later. Either way, the story is the hook that garners interest and spawns the Wreck Nut.

Such was the case when I explored my first wreck, the Sapona, a freighter cast in concrete. A ship made of concrete! Sounds crazy doesn’t it? That’s what intrigued me. Built in 1919, the 181-foot freighter was one of a fleet of twelve tankers and freighters whose hulls were poured concrete—a means of saving steel during the WW I. But the concrete prematurely cracked and the ship sailed for only three years.

The cement shipweck, SAPONA, built in 1919, broken in two on a Bimini reef in 1926. Photo by Ellsworth Boyd.

Bruce Bethell, a one-armed gangster from Miami, bought it with plans to convert it into an international gambling casino. Unfortunately, the vessel ran aground while being towed to Bimini in the Bahama Islands. That’s were it sits today, about two miles offshore, broken in two at midship with half of the hull above the water.

Throughout the years, the concrete monolith has been used as a turtle crawl, a storage place for bootleg rum during Prohibition, and a bombing target for training fighter pilots during WWII. Divers still explore the shallow water wreck, occasionally finding a bottle of whiskey left by the rum runners years ago. The Sapona, like many other wrecks, has ever more intriguing stories to tell both before and after its demise.

There are many ways for a ship to meet her demise and just as many stories surrounding the sinking. Ships founder, collide, catch fire or get struck by torpedoes, mines and hurricanes. Occasionally there’s a triumph among the tragedies, where doomed passengers and crew some how survive. Their stories are exciting too, just like the wrecks we nuts explore.

Alison

How about you? Are you one of us? If so, post a reply and tell the others about your favorite shipwreck: The who, what, where, when and why. We’ve got to stick together you know, us Wreck Nuts. And don’t forget our motto: “Wreck Nuts Together, Shipwrecks Forever!”

Titanic

Now, the 100th anniversary of the “unsinkable” ship’s demise (April 14) evokes a slew of theories. Here’s one I’m tossing into the hopper.

Trivial Neglect Caused Nightmare Disaster

Have you ever experienced something that appeared trivial at the time and of no consequence, but later became a major incident in your life? Some of life’s twists and turns are favorable, while others aren’t so hot. “What if” can be a haunting mantra.

Take the Titanic for instance. A few little things, which seemed inconsequential at the time, could have changed history and saved more than a thousand lives. What if the shipbuilders had included more lifeboats instead of installing the most palatial passenger accommodations on any liner of its day? What if the captain of the Californian, a freighter out of Liverpool that had stopped for the night nearby, had heeded his lookout’s report of sighting “rockets in the sky?”  What if the Californian’s signalman hadn’t turned off the wireless and gone to bed for the night?

Titanic

The Titanic also had its “trivialities of no consequence.” What if Capt. Edward J. Smith had given more credence to the iceberg warnings he received after being out at sea only one day? He seemed hell-bent on setting a new record for ocean liners crossing the Atlantic. An unfortunate oversight by his lookouts could have changed history as well. They were scanning the horizon on a clear moonless night without binoculars. They didn’t spot the iceberg until it was 300 feet away.

The mighty Titanic, named for the powerful Titan gods of Greek mythology, “grazed” an iceberg and sank in less than three hours. When it left Southampton, England, on April 10, 1912 the 882-foot-long White Star liner was deemed “unsinkable.” The 2,228 passengers and crew felt safe aboard a vessel with 15 watertight bulkheads and automatic watertight doors that could be closed from the bridge. Six separate watertight compartments housed the vessel’s 29 boilers that drove her reciprocating steam engines. Over three million rivets held high caliber steel plates to a stout steel frame using a new technology called “hydraulic riveting.”

Lost Treasure Ships of the Twentieth Century

Then what went wrong? How could this new state of the art “jewel of the White Star Line”—an eight million dollar creation—possibly culminate its maiden voyage 13,120 feet down in the North Atlantic? Some critics tried to blame the disaster on a fire that broke out in a coal storage bunker before the ship set sail. But the chief engineer reported that the smoldering fuel had been extinguished by the third day at sea, one day before the sinking. There was no major damage, only some warping on the wall between two boiler rooms. Still others blamed Bruce Ismay, chairman of the White Star Line, for urging the captain and chief engineer to “speed up” the six day liner. White Star vessels crossed the Atlantic in six days, while Cunard liners made it in five. Ismay was eager to beat the Cunard record or at least match it.

Avoiding the term “collision,” critics further claimed the ship’s superstructure gave in from a simple “graze” or “a slight bump” on its starboard side. Yet one glacial expert rebuked, “Icebergs are hideously dangerous. They’re like ice cubes in a glass. Most of their mass is below the surface. You may think you’ve grazed one, but in reality it has shredded the hull like a rip saw.”

It was determined that an underwater sliver of ice cut a 300-foot-long gash in the Titanic’s superstructure, damaging the ship’s watertight compartments. One less damaged compartment and the ship might have remained afloat. Water poured through the collapsed bulkhead and made its way through open portholes and gangways. The ship’s fate was sealed. She split in half and sank in less than three hours, taking 1,523 passengers and crew with her.

That’s not the end of the story by any means. Typical of today’s world, the blame game continues. Critics cite the technology of the times, saying the vessel’s rivets popped prematurely, the steel wasn’t strong enough and that many other things were structurally deficient. But metallurgists have confirmed that no ship today could have withstood the damage inflicted by the iceberg and still remain afloat. The Titanic was a product of the times…a testimonial to man’s magnificent ingenuity and creativity. But it also was a reminder of his flawed decisions. Humans failed the Titanic.

Blind faith in technology would have worked had it not been for overconfidence, obsession for success and disregard for safety precautions. The unhappy ending will always be weighed in terms of technological advancement, creativity and heedless attitudes. Simply put, man failed mankind.

Titanic

The Titanic met her destiny in a gripping story that remains one of the most debatable disasters of all time. Is her mystique simply shrouded in the irony of life? Unfortunately, tragedy is ironic only when it happens to someone else. Many poor souls rest two and a half miles down, near the edge of the continental shelf, 400 miles southeast of Newfoundland. Time will never bring down the curtain on them.

“You wanna search for pirate ships?” he quipped.

“Do you mean pirate ships with treasure?” I asked.

“Maybe,” he said. “That part of it remains to be seen.”

National Archives

The premise was simple, one that I doubt anyone else but Fizz could conjure. His plan was to search through records in the National Archives for pirate ships that were sunk by the U.S. Navy from 1821 to 1835. The Fizz would open a time capsule and take me back aboard venerable schooners of the 17th century. But wait, let me go back a bit.

In the beginning, Fizz and I had only corresponded, exchanging e-mail about shipwrecks, treasure discoveries, hearsay and risqué jokes. We had never met until he came to Washington, D.C. during Veterans’ Week to visit the war memorials. A retired veteran himself, Fizz made 26 jumps with the U.S. Army 82nd Airborne Division. Fizz had friends who opted for a military career and he was touched when he viewed the Vietnam Veterans’ Memorial where the names of all war causalities are inscribed. He recognized the names of some of his friends and the experience made him even more loyal, patriotic and proud to have served his country.

I chose a weekday to leave my home in White Hall, Maryland, and thread my way through traffic on the Baltimore and Capital Beltways for nearly two hours, eager to see what Fizz had up his sleeve. When I arrived, he was waiting at the entrance to the imposing 2,000-room Gaylord Hotel, an architectural wonder in the spectacular National Harbor Resort overlooking the Potomac River.

The venerable captain, with 35 years experience in treasure salvage, sported a close-cropped beard, piercing blue eyes and a wry grin. (Check him out on his website: Spanishmaintreasure.com). After losing our way three times—a common occurrence in our nation’s capitol—we finally found an underground parking garage a couple of blocks from our destination: 700 Pennsylvania Ave., not far from the White House.

Visiting the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) is like going through airport security. After our note papers and bag lunches were checked, we filled in an application, showed a photo I.D. and listed our research project: Pirate ships of the 17th Century. We would be using some of the records that are available to the public in many forms such as loose papers, bound volumes, films, tapes, photos, maps and drawings. Our search was unique. We wanted to examine some of the bound volumes of the actual logs written by the ships’ captains. When we moved to the next station, a charming NARA lady took our pictures and presented us with an official National Archives I.D. good for one year.

Our next stop was the records room where Fizz used his wit and stardom to charm Susan Abbott, another charming lady and experienced staffer who knows books and papers as well as Fizz knows gold and silver. In the Volume I Inventory, Record Group 45, she located six categories of vessels including the Mediterranean, Pacific, Brazil, Home, East India and West India Squadrons. The latter was our choice, particularly ships from 1821 to 1835. Miss Abbott seemed quite enthused about our quest and Captain Fismer’s zeal and devotion to ships and the sea. She promised to check out his website.

When Spain sold Florida to the United States in 1821, Congress ordered the formation of the West India Squadron which based its vessels out of Norfolk, Virginia, and Key West, Florida.  All of them were assigned to chase down and sink pirate ships and slavers. Commodore David Porter commanded a force of eight fast-sailing schooners of shallow draft designed to navigate over reefs and banks of the Caribbean. Porter’s squadron worked in cooperation with six warships already in the Florida–Caribbean corridor.

Even though the Golden Age of Piracy (1650-1725) was over, lawlessness on the high seas continued as maverick privateers preyed upon heavily-laden merchant vessels leaving ports in New England, the Carolinas, Florida and the West Indies. The plunderers, some of them Corsairs—Mediterranean pirates from the Barbary Coast—left Africa to engage ships off our shores. But they got more than they bargained for from the West India Squadron.

Although official naval records of the sinkings were supposed to be kept, some slipped through the cracks and weren’t recorded. They would, however, be mentioned in the captains’ logs along with the nautical positions of the ships that went down.

We took the elevator to the research room where we would be seeking West India Squadron logs from the Dolphin, Shark, and a third ship Fizz was keeping as a little secret. It was an exciting moment. The massive NARA room had good lighting, long tables, comfortable chairs and a counter where a staffer was available if needed. Pencils were provided for notes and no pens were allowed.

We watched, somewhat awestruck, as one of the archivists pushed a cart packed with dozens of dull gray boxes up to our table and plunked two of them down in front of us.  We were about to open a time capsule and plunge into buccaneer days, a scene that I could barely conjure. The logbooks, elongated and heavy, contained daily records from the captains who commanded the squadron’s vessels. I glanced at Fizz and he gave me a look as if to say, “Where do we begin?” There were dozens of logs and many different captains for each ship throughout the years. We just had to dig in and start reading. There were no categories, no table of contents nor indexes. It was hit or miss. We made sure to record the number of each volume of logs that we examined. Some of the logs, with small and scripted writing, were painstaking to interpret, while others were easy to read. Mundane tasks, plotted courses and daily commands were all logged in.

Some of the logs recorded “sightings.” One captain, George Cook of the Dolphin, wrote on March 21, 1821: “Cruised two inlets, harbor. Search for obscure bays, bights, lagoons, coves for hidden ships. Encountered sudden squalls, but sky cleared, seas calm. Back at sea. Lookout spotted ship in the distance within long gun range.  Scope picked up full sail, no flag. Order given to load, ready to fire. Possibly a slaver. They desire no confrontation. No chase…we dare not leave coast unprotected.”

John Nottingham, master of the Three Sisters, a 620-ton, 38-gun man of war, spotted and chased down an unnamed 18-gun privateer off South Florida. Nottingham logged: “Ready to engage. Brigantine heavily outgunned. Not of force sufficient enough to defend. Immediate surrender. Pirate captain giving up himselfe, (sic) men and ship together with what effects there unto: cargo of 10 casks water, 100 casks bread, spare rigging, two quoiles (sic) of rope, hawser cable, 100 pounds dry goods, three barrels peas, pork and tallow.  Mainsail and topsail torn but sailable to port by my men. Took 40 prisoners. Will continue to use utmost endeavors to seize and apprehend every pirate, those suspected of piracy or of being abettors therein. Orders relating to pirates or privateers will be followed and they will answer to their perils of the utmost rigor and severity of the law.”

Fizz and I took a break in our research and walked the corridors of the elegant building. When we returned, time flew by as we meticulously perused the heavily bound logbooks. We found logs from the Dolphin, Alabama, Desmond and the Three Sisters. By the end of the day Fizz revealed his “secret” ship, the Alligator, a man of war with a rich, exciting and treasure storied past.

The Alligator captured several slave running ships before joining the East India Squadron. Her hunting grounds were off Florida and Cuba. In November, 1822, she captured a pirate ship near Matanzas, Cuba. The Fizz theorizes that the Alligator, sleek, fast and well manned, sank some unrecorded pirate ships before she ran aground and sank on Carysfort Reef, Florida Keys. Alligator Reef and lighthouse are named for this successful West India Squadron warship.

We didn’t find logs from the Alligator or the Shark, but Fizz promised to return to Washington for future research. It might take weeks, maybe months to find what we’re looking for, but even then there’s no guarantee the man of war sank a treasure ship that wasn’t listed in the official records. Yet, research is what treasure seekers thrive on. Fizz is a seeker of treasure and all the knowledge leading up to it.

We had quite an adventure, the salty old dog and I—the senior member of this two-man crew. Did we get lost returning to the hotel? Of course we did, but it didn’t matter. We still had our “sea legs” and were unwinding from some rough waters and responsible commands. I can’t wait to return and search again for pirate ships and their treasures.

If You Visit NARA

You don’t have to be a history buff, but it helps when visiting the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) in Washington, D.C. or College Park, Maryland. With its motto: Guardian of the Nation’s Memory, NARA’s records cover three centuries of documenting the origins and evolution of the U.S. Government and the history of the American people. The records include everything from loose papers, bound volumes and motion picture films to videotapes, recordings, photos, maps and drawings.

Research rooms are large, bright and attractive. The staff, courteous and helpful, is available at central location desks where guides and catalogs offer additional help in planning your research. When examining records, it’s important to keep them in their original order. Research staff will provide special paper tabs to mark items for copying and cotton gloves for handling film and photographs. There are special research rooms for microfilm and directories to help you locate the microfilm publications you want to use. Some microfilm, being rare or in popular demand, might require an appointment for use.

Self-service photo copying is allowed. Staff will review what you wish to copy and advise you accordingly. In the special media research areas, you can make your own copies of unrestricted films, tapes and pictures using your own or NARA equipment. Personal equipment must be approved and tagged before use in a research room, where audiovisual carts are provided. Bound volumes and oversized documents can’t be copied unless special equipment has been provided in the research room. It’s important to call ahead if you’re going to need the use of any NARA equipment.

NARA is a friendly place and its staff wants you to be successful in your endeavors. For details about exhibition and research tours, go to: www.archives.gov or call toll free: 1-866-272-6272. For a free brochure entitled Guidelines for Using Historical Records in the National Archives, write to: Brochure Request, National Archives and Records Administration, 700 Pennsylvania Ave., Washington, D.C. 20408-0002

Despatch

Historical records reveal that the Despatch, one of the largest and handsomest yachts afloat when it was built in 1873, was the pleasure craft for presidents Rutherford B. Hayes, James Garfield, Chester Arthur, Grover Cleveland and Benjamin Harrison. President Harrison and Secretary of the Navy Benjamin Tracy were planning to visit the naval proving grounds on the Potomac River in October, 1891, when the Despatch failed to show up at the dock. Returning from New York with just its officers and crew, the sleek, single-funnel steamer ran into a sudden squall off Virginia. The ship’s lieutenant, mistaking the orange glow from the Assateague lighthouse for the offshore red hue on the Winter Quarter Shoals lightship, steered the yacht off course and on to the shoals. Boxes of cigars, candles and canned hams were gathered by bystanders who watched the ship sink in 20 feet of water. The officers and crew made it safely to shore.

In 1997, Ben Benson, head of Sea Hunt, Inc., a New Hampshire salvage group, made a secondhand discovery while searching for the Spanish galleon, Juno. The Despatch, sunk in the same area as the Juno, was icing on the cake for Benson as he looked for the treasure galleon. He found the presidential yacht, but didn’t have time to survey it. He did a look-see, got a permit, and planned to return at a later date. Meanwhile, he turned his full attention toward his main objective.

Benson eventually found the Juno, sunk in 1802 with a large cache of silver pesos aboard, but ran into a bureaucratic nightmare. Spain promptly claimed the wreck and the U.S. government—egged on by the U.S. Park Service and Justice Department—overruled Benson and the state of Virginia and gave salvage rights to Spain. The Spanish did nothing with the shipwreck.  Benson tried to fight it, but finally packed up and returned to New Hampshire thoroughly disgusted with the legalities and litigation.

I called Tony Watkenson, Chief of the Habitat Division for the Virginia Marine Resources Commission, who outlined all the particulars for our search. The wreck rests in shallow water not far from the beach. If we find it, he’ll issue a salvage permit. Any artifacts retrieved will be donated to the state for display in several of its museums.

So that’s it. Shall we do it? Think about it as you hum a few bars of Hail to the Chief! Like the legendary Phoenix that rose from its ashes, the remains of the Despatch–an historical American treasure, might rise from the sands of Assateague Island.

In 1971, Kent Bellrichard, an accomplished Great Lakes diver, was searching for another vessel when he discovered the Rouse Simmons. Located 13 miles off the coast of Kewaunee, the ship was easy to identify by the remains of some Christmas trees still secured to the deck. The ship sits upright with its bow pointing north. Bellrichard believes this might indicate the captain steered in that direction to seek safety along the Kewaunee shoreline.

Although the ship’s wooden deck has collapsed, the hull remains intact. A 140 to 165 foot dive, the Christmas Tree Wreck still holds some of its cargo, but the remaining trees and ship’s artifacts are covered with zebra mussels. Keen eyes can spot the windlass, deadeyes, pans, dishes, chains, broken masts and the rudder post with a centerboard. Some of the trees remain, but most of them washed ashore throughout the years. Visibility averages 50 to 60 feet. Currents usually pose no problem, while water temperatures range around the mid-40s F.

Two of the trees and several other Rouse Simmons artifacts—including the ship’s wheel—were salvaged for exhibit at the Rogers Street Fishing Village Museum in Two Rivers, Wisconsin. The ship’s anchor was retrieved for display at the Milwaukee Yacht Club. The remains of the wreck are protected by the Abandoned Shipwreck Act and the site is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

I enjoy hearing your stories of how you were introduced to my books, so I hope that you’ll be able to make it to the Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale, Arizona on October 27th at 7 PM. You can find out more information about the event by clicking here.

If you can’t make it to the event, you can:

• Order the autographed edition of Built for Adventure from the Poisoned Pen.
• Order the autographed edition of Built for Adventure from the Cussler Museum.

Get an inside look into the book by viewing many of the autos in my collection at the Cussler Museum website.

True Adventures with Famous Shipwrecks

Dust jacket from THE SEA HUNTERS

There aren’t many thrills that parallel that of swimming through a shipwreck. I’ve always compared it to walking through a cemetery. You can sense and sometimes visualize the ghosts of the crew who lived on board and died without anyone to record their passing. The currents, the gloomy visibility, the silence broken only by the hiss of your air regulator, all add to the eeriness.

Thanks to recent advances in deep-sea technology, a very few tantalizing secrets in the deep have finally been unlocked and recorded on film and video tape. We have mapped and photographed almost every square inch of the moon, but we have viewed less than one percent of what is covered by water. To find the bones of ships and aircraft that have lain untouched in the depths is an experience known to a very few. Those who seek and occasionally find go under a variety of titles. Adventurers, oceanographers, marine archaeologists, treasure hunters, all in one form or other search for historic vessels that have disappeared into the unknown. Sometimes they’re successful. More often they fail. The odds are stacked against them. But as long as they are driven by insatiable curiosity, new discoveries will continue to surface.

The lure of shipwrecks is a siren’s song. There are literally millions of sunken ships. I’ve often wondered how many ancient wrecks lie beneath the silt of the Nile River in Egypt. The Mediterranean is strewn with them. The Great Lakes alone have nearly 50,000 recorded shipwrecks, beginning with famed explorer Sieur de La Salle’s ship Griffin launched and vanished during 1679 somewhere in Lake Michigan, and going up to the Edmund Fitzgerald, lost with all hands on Lake Superior in 1975. The seabed between Maine and Florida contains huge fleets of sunken vessels. Well over a thousand steamships rest under the banks and levees of the Mississippi River.

They all have stories to tell.

I actually walked the decks of one ship that vanished into the unknown.

During the spring of 1964, I took a few weeks’ vacation before I was to start as creative director in charge of television production for a large advertising agency. After painting the house, I had ten days left to do nothing. My wife worked and our three children were in school. A friend persuaded me to work as a crew member on a beautiful yacht called the Emerald Sea, which was docked behind a spacious mansion at Newport Beach, California.

It was pleasant work maintaining miles of varnished wood and wiping the engines. I remember being surprised after a trip to Catalina Island off California. I was given a uniform and ordered to look after the passengers while the skipper manned the helm. The guests of the yacht owner never suspected that they were served their drinks and hor d’euvres by an advertising executive instead of a common deckhand. And I didn’t mind at all when they tipped me fifty dollar bills as they stepped onto the dock. I must admit it wasn’t easy trading the teak decks of the Emerald Sea and the salt-water smell for a sterile office on Sunset Boulevard.

The yacht that was tied up next to Emerald Sea was a large two-deck vessel, built in the 1920s. I could look across the dock onto its spacious awning-covered rear deck and visualize a crowd of men in tuxedos doing the Charleston with flappers in fringed dresses and bobbed hair. There were times I could have sworn I heard the strains of a jazz band. I believe she was called Rosewood. She was an elegant lady and oozed style whenever her elderly owner, a wealthy widow, took her out and partied on the bay.

I became friendly with one of her deckhands, Gus Muncher, who swore he doubled in the movies once for Errol Flynn, but looked more like Peter Lorre. Gus would give me a tour of his boat, then we’d sit on the deck and eat lunch, swilling bottles of beer and swapping stories about the different boats and their owners moored about the harbor. The scandals were often juicy.

Gus claimed he was only working on the yacht to save enough money to get him to Tahiti, where he dreamed of operating a small ferryboat between the islands.

I lost track of Gus after I put on my Brooks Brothers suit and went back to work creating hard-sell drivel urging the masses to buy various and sundry products they could live without. Two years later, I ran into my old skipper from the Emerald Sea at a restaurant. I asked him if he’d seen Gus.

“Gus” he said sadly, “is dead.” “No,” I muttered. “How?”

“He went down with the Rosewood.”

“I had no idea it sank.”

The skipper nodded. “The old lady who owned her died and the estate sold it to a car dealer in New Jersey. After passing through the canal, the Rosewood vanished with all hands in deep water west of Bermuda. Gus was one of a crew of three on board.”

“Poor old Gus,” I murmured.” He never saw Tahiti.” My memory of Gus faded over the next fifteen years. After I bade a happy farewell to the advertising agency and could finally make a living as a writer, my wife, Barbara, and I stopped over in Tahiti for a vacation after completing a book tour in Australia. While Barbara was doing some gift shopping in a village on the island of Bora Bora, I walked into a little bar overlooking the island’s famed turquoise lagoon. Out of the corner of my eye I notice a fellow wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, a flowered shirt, and a pair of ragged shorts. He was sitting next to a striking Tahitian lady with flowing black hair and a smile sparkled by gold fillings. A thick red beard covered half his face, but I recognized him in an instant.

I stepped to his table and stared him in the eye. “Is that really you, or am I seeing a ghost?”

“Just to show you I am alive, I’ll buy you a beer,” Gus Muncher said, laughing. “Just forget you ever saw me.” He then introduced me to his wife, Tani.

“So you made it to Tahiti after all,” I said, fighting the desire to pinch his arm and see if he yelled.

“Got me a fifty-foot catamaran, and make a good living carrying goods and passengers around the islands.”

“Your dream come true.”

“You remembered,” he said with a grin showing under his beard.

“I heard you went down on Rosewood.”

“In a matter of speaking, I did.”

“I’d like to hear about it.”

“Not much to tell. We open all the seacocks and she went down like a stone in a thousand fathoms.”

I stared at Gus incredulously. “Doesn’t make any sense to sail a perfectly good yacht nearly five thousand miles and then scuttle her.”

Gus’s eyes beamed like a lighthouse. “Can you think of a better place to sink a boat for the insurance than the Bermuda Triangle?”

I should have voiced an argument about morals and legality, but sitting there in a bar overlooking spectacular scenery with an old friend who I thought had died, it just didn’t seem appropriate. After two beers Barbara found and collected me, and I bade Gus and his lady goodbye.

Ten years later, I met a French official from the Society Islands and asked if he knew Gus Muncher. He nodded and sadly informed me that Gus, his wife, his catamaran, two paying passengers, and a cargo of eighty chickens went missing in a storm off Moorea. A search turned up no trace.

I’ve always wondered if Gus slipped off the earth again or was truly on the bottom of the sea. I supposed a clue might be found if one investigated insurance-company records to see who received the settlement for the loss of Gus and his boat. I was curious, but not knowing the name of his catamaran and which marine casualty company settled any claims and to whom, I turned my back and went on to other projects. I kept his memory but let the mystery die with him.

For some odd reason, I’ve never been big on doing documentaries on NUMA’s expeditions. I almost never take pictures during a search. My publicity lady once insisted on giving me two little automatic Kodak cameras, thinking that by making it easy I’d finally shoot a record of events. My son, Dirk, shot about three frames, which I have yet to develop after four years.

I probably don’t receive all the hoopla I should because I don’t solicit the big photo publications and television programs. I once called the National Geographic to see if there was any interest in my forthcoming expedition to search for the Bonhomme Richard. During a conversation with a lady who said she was in charge of editorial assignments, I was told in no uncertain terms, “We’re not giving out any funds.”

“I don’t need funding,” I replied. “I’m paying for the search out of my book royalties.”

“Don’t expect us to pay for anything,” she announced acidly.

“Won’t cost you a cent.”

“Then why did you call?”

“Just to alert you that a search expedition was being launched to find John Paul Jones’s famous ship. I thought perhaps you might be interested.”

“We don’t fund shipwreck hunts.”

“We’ve been through that,” I said exasperated.

“Call us if you find it.”

“Then what?”

“We’ll assign a writer and a photographer to do the story.”

“I’m a writer.”

“We prefer a professional,” she said matter-of-factly.

End of conversation.

A few years later, I was in Washington, D.C., for my walk-on role in the awful movie based on my book Raise the Titanic! On the way to the hotel where they were shooting a press-conference scene with Jason Robards, I stopped off at the editorial offices of the National Geographic. I walked up to the receptionist and asked to speak to any editor who could spare me a few minutes.

She was gracious enough to call four different editors and say I was in the lobby. After the last call, she look at me sheepishly and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cussler. None of them wish to talk to you.”

Scorned by the National Geographic.

“If someone should ask,” the receptionist murmured sweetly,” what should I tell them you wish to see them about?”

“Just tell them I ran in here to get away from a mugger and didn’t know when I was well off.”

Shattered and distraught, I went back to my room at the Jefferson Hotel, and except for the two hours I spent repairing a non-operating grandfather clock in the sitting room, I cried in my pillow the rest of the night.

Not content with putting demoralizing and hilarious concerns behind me, I then alienated the Smithsonian magazine.

Nicolas Dean, a truly fine photographer from Edgecomb, Maine, was assigned by the Smithsonian magazine to shoot a photo story on NUMA’s discovery of Cumberland and Florida. He shot rolls of film on the divers and the artifacts recovered from the wrecks. Then, for some reason, the editors of Smithsonian killed the story. Nick received a small kill fee, but not nearly enough to cover his expenses after flying round trip from Maine and spending five days on the expedition.

Several years later, I was called by the secretary of one of Smithsonian magazine’s senior editors and asked if I would check out a story on a shipwreck for any inaccuracies. Since it was a ship I was familiar with, I agreed. The story arrived in the mail, I read it, made a couple of suggestions, and sent it back.

The secretary then notified me by phone that the fee for my editorial expertise was $200. Overwhelmed, but keeping my emotions in check, I told her not to send the check to me, but rather make it out to the editor.

“I don’t understand,” she said confused.

“I insist my compensation go to him,” I reaffirmed.

Unenlightened, she muttered, “It makes no sense for a writer’s fee to go to an editor.”

“It does in this case.”

“May I ask why you are doing this?”

“Yes, Tell your boss that the two hundred bucks is a bribe. I’m paying him never to mention my name in the Smithsonian magazine.”

The secretary came unglued, “You don’t want your name in our publication. This is unheard of.”

“There’s always a first.”

I have no idea what they ever did with the check. I know I never got it.

NUMA has been fortunate in achieving so much with so little. Nearly sixty sunken wrecks in lakes, rivers, and seas have been found and surveyed. I’ve covered only a handful in this book. A few were discovered by luck, most only after long hours of investigation and hard work. Cost is, of course, always a factor with any expedition. But if the hunt is not overly complicated and can be conducted with simplicity, the price remains low.

Despite stories by fiction writers like me, the search for historic treasure is seldom dangerous and all too often is downright tedious, but it is still an adventure that can be enjoyed by dedicated people or families out for a weekend of fun. Discoveries can be made anywhere and may take place within walking distance of your backyard. You’d be amazed at how many famous historical sites remain lost because nobody ever bothered to look for them.

I suppose it would be more practical to sink my book royalties into municipal bonds and real estate, something that would yield a financial return. Lord knows my accountant and broker think I belong under restraint in an institution. But my philosophy has always been that when my time comes, and I’m lying in a hospital bed two breaths away from the great beyond, I’d like my bedside phone to ring. A big, blonde, buxom nurse, taking my pulse for ebbing vital signs, leans over my face, picks up the phone, and holds the receiver to my ear.

The last words I hear before I drift off are those of my banker telling me my account is ten dollars overdrawn.

The bottom line is that when the final curtain drops the only things we truly regret are the things we didn’t do.

Or as an old grizzled treasure hunter put it to me over a beer in a waterfront saloon late one evening,

“If it ain’t fun, it ain’t worth doin’.”

To those of you who seek lost objects of history, I wish you the best of luck. They’re out there, and they’re whispering.

Courtesy of M. Sarba Art Gallery, Clinton, Connecticut.

She’s smaller than originally thought, and her bow is curved, not square. These are among the first mysteries solved by the raising of the Civil War submarine H. L. Hunley after 136 years on the bottom of Charleston Harbor. To commemorate the occasion, maritime artist Marek Sarba depicts her final departure, with Confederate General P. G. T. Beauregard among the observers. Sarba has produced a limited-edition print of this spectacular painting, the sales of which will benefit the efforts to preserve the Hunley.

Dateline: 17 February 1864, Charleston Harbor, South Carolina, 2000-The USS Housatonic rests at anchor, her bow facing west by northwest toward Fort Sumter. Those on deck keep watch for a newfangled contraption that could travel underwater. The night is clear and moonlit, the seas calm. Suddenly, at 2045, Officer of the Deck John Crosby spots an anomaly in the water, “what looked to be a porpoise coming to the surface to blow.”

But it is not a porpoise, it is the H. L. Hunley. Even as bullets ricochet off the hull of this iron fish, she moves forward quickly-straight for the Housatonic.

Minutes later, an explosion rocks the Housatonic, and she begins to sink fast. Men clamber over the side, into the water and into launches that have been cleared from the ship. One is sent to the nearby Canandaigua to summon assistance.

Later, Federal Seaman Robert Fleming testifies: “When the Canandaigua got astern, and was lying athwart of the Housatonic, about four ship lengths off, while I was in the fore rigging, I saw a blue light on the water just ahead of the Canandaigua, and on the starboard quarter of the Housatonic.” This was the pre-arranged signal the submarine’s crewmen were to give to let those on shore know she was safe.

But the Hunley never made it back to port.

6 August 2000, Conservation Laboratory, Charleston, South Carolina

Underwater explorer and best-selling author Clive Cussler and his companions stand in front of what looks like just another nondescript warehouse at the old Charleston Naval Shipyard. They are met outside by Paul Mardikian, Senior Conservator, and Dr. Robert Neyland, Project Manager. This is the lab where the Hunley will be brought for conservation and restoration.
As they are led inside and up a flight of metal stairs painted yellow, they face a large, green holding tank-the future home of the Hunley, possibly for the next ten years.

Mardikian patiently explains what will happen after the Hunley arrives at the lab:

The first step is to fill the tank with chilly water, once the submarine is put in. When everything inside the submarine has been excavated [estimated time 6-12 months], remains and artifacts will be properly stored, then conservation of the sub itself begins. As it’s made entirely out of iron, we have concretions on the outside to deal with, possibly some rust, maybe some organic creatures, which makes it a very complex project, and can take anywhere from five to ten years, and that’s a general timeline. You cannot reverse 136 years of corrosion quickly.I’ve worked on the Titanic, the Alabama, and ancient shipwrecks, and I can tell you it is very rare to have a complete shipwreck with no oxygen, like the Hunley. Once we get inside the submarine, we will be able to tell how much, if any, oxygen has been in there and if it affected any of the artifacts. So we need to be ready for every option. There is no room for guessing at this point if there are any significant remains of the crew, if there is any organic material, like textiles. Some people will say everything will be gone, but we just don’t know.

The group is led to a computer work station, waterproofed because of its proximity to the tank. A program on the computer allows the scientists and archaeologists to monitor everything involved with the tank, including the rate of oxygen, conductivity of the water, and Ph levels. Each of the three water tanks outside the building can be opened or closed, or the computer can regulate water moving in and out of the inside tank.

A refrigerated morgue on the ground level has nine steel trays, each the length of a human body, waiting for whatever is found inside the submarine. Another computer is set up just outside the morgue, connected to a large X-ray machine that will be used not only for any human remains found, but also on various parts of the submarine. The spar, which held the explosive that destroyed the Housatonic, still was attached to the bottom of the bow of the Hunley. It had to be removed for proper recovery of the submarine and was one of the first artifacts brought to the lab. Mardikian shows the group an X-ray of the spar, pointing out the layer of concretion on the outside and how the computer software can show the spar without the concretion, which will help them during restoration. “We’ve found in ancient shipwrecks that iron disappears, but the concretions become like molds. So some parts of the spar might be completely empty, even though the corrosion rate is not very high,” Mardikian explains.

The group walks upstairs to the offices and stops in front of a model of the Hunley, strapped into a metal truss and covered with what looks like yellow pillows. Neyland steps forward and points at the model.

We went through a number of ideas to raise the submarine when we began planning this three years ago. We looked at a coffer dam, which would have been very expensive. We looked at going down and scooping up the whole wreck in a great big clamshell, but found the soil around the Hunley wouldn’t support that. Finally, we looked at a space frame, what we call a truss. Then we figured that the Hunley, filled with sand, weighs about 30 tons. So if we just put the truss down, then transferred the weight of the Hunley to the truss, it would have sunk into the mud. So we came up with a method that was used in the Gulf of Mexico, these great big suction piles, which are essentially inverted cans that go in the bottom, then pump out the water so they suck down. These acted as an excellent stable foundation, 18 feet in diameter, 12 feet high and weigh about 45 tons.We originally thought we could put a couple of slings here and there [on each end of the sub], but last year we looked at the rivets on the sub and found they were highly corroded. In fact, one of the rivets just punched right through. If we took the sediment away, the sub could basically unzip and come apart. So we found we had to leave it in the sediment, then replace the sediment gradually, one sling at a time, until we had all the slings on board.

“You didn’t take my suggestion to wrap it all in duct tape,” Cussler says dryly, and everyone laughs. Neyland continues:

We found three holes in the hull, the first in the conning tower, which may have been from gun shots or small arms’ fire. We found the second on the starboard side, up by the bow and a hole back in the stern area. So we attached bags to the slings and injected them with hard foam around the hull to protect it. We looked at using hard rubber, but some folks at a division of Dow Chemical said they had this foam, although they’d never used it under water. We took it to a facility in Louisiana that has a 30-foot tank and tested it. It’s incredible stuff. After this is over, it’s possible the Navy will begin using it-they’ve been looking for something like this for years for salvage. As the foam was injected in, the water in the bags ejected through the seams.

Later, Cussler relates, “I think what I like best about the lab is that they’re going to make it a world-class lab, not just for the Hunley. So many times you bring up artifacts and there’s no way to conserve them, so you throw them back. Now they can have all sorts of artifacts coming in from all over the United States to be conserved.”

8 August 2000, Charleston Harbor, 0430

The Land Rover speeds into a dirt parking lot and Clive Cussler climbs out. It is still pitch dark. Cheerfully, he walks toward the dock, where a charter boat waits for him and the media. He is to spend the day on the press boat. Wearing a NUMA (National Underwater and Marine Agency) t-shirt and hat, Cussler and his companions climb to the second deck and settle in. None of the media takes notice. This amuses Cussler to a degree; he could go just about anywhere unnoticed, but today of all days, surely someone will know who he is and why he is there.

A little bit after 0500, the boat heads out, passing the aircraft carrier Yorktown (CVS-10) and Fort Sumter. Lights twinkle in the distance and as the boat gets closer, the platform of the Karlissa-B comes into view. A 51.7-meter by 24.4-meter, six-leg barge, equipped with DeLong jacks and a 318-metric-ton Manitowoc platform ringer crane, the Karlissa-B will be bringing up the Hunley later in the morning.

As the press boat floats into place near the Karlissa-B, Cussler watches the scene with tired but excited eyes. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would see the Hunley raised in his lifetime. Yet in five short years, after his NUMA team discovered the submarine on 3 May 1995, the dream was now becoming a reality.

8 August 2000, Charleston Harbor, 0830

The water around the Karlissa-B, the recovery barge, and the press boat swarm with vessels of all descriptions, hundreds of them, some circling the area, others waiting patiently. The Hunley should have been raised a half-hour earlier, but strong winds forced the recovery team to bring in a large barge to settle the area.

At 0839, the Hunley breaks the surface of the water. It is still silent. As the Hunley is lowered gently to the recovery barge, boat horns toot and blast. People cheer wildly. Cannon are fired from shore in celebration.

“I’m numb-just numb,” says Cussler, as his eyes watch the Hunley. “Everybody assured me this would go like clockwork, and it did!”

At that moment, it seems the media finally realize who Cussler is. He is surrounded with microphones. Says the well-known novelist:

It’s much smaller than I thought it was. Everyone thought it would be much larger. And there were so many misconceptions about what we thought the sub looked like. We thought it had a big, square bow, and it doesn’t. It actually curves. We thought it was 36-feet long, and 3 by 5 feet. It’s only 32-feet long and 3 by 4 feet. Now they’re saying the guys in it couldn’t have been more than five-foot-two. The technology at that time was incredibly advanced. This set the foundation for all future submarines. What made me keep looking for it? I was convinced it was here, and by God, it was here!

The press boat keeps pace with the recovery barge as it is towed to the conservation lab by two tugboats. Hundreds of other boats follow, horns blasting every once in a while. As they pass Fort Sumter, the fort’s flag is at half mast and cannon are fired. They pass Fort Moultrie, and men in Civil War uniform render a 21-gun salute. They pass the Yorktown, and military men and women stand at attention. Church bells begin ringing on shore, one after another.

After 136 years, the Hunley and her crew of nine finally have come home.

Replicated with the author’s permission; this article appeared on the Time2watch Web site.

Over the years I have been very fortunate to have reviewed some of the finest wristwatches in the world, but nothing has given me as much pleasure as the opportunity to interview one of my favorite authors. At the time of this interview, I had only read one of his books, six months later I’m almost half way through his collection and I’m starting to wonder what I am going to read once I’m finished.

I hope you enjoy this interview as much as I enjoyed putting it together.

T2W: Dr. Cussler, could you please tell us how Dirk Pitt’s world all got started?

CC: When I first started writing, I was in advertising at the time, I was doing most of my writing on weekends. I had studied most of the other series heroes and I figured it would be fun for mine to be different and put him in and around water. So I dreamed up Dirk Pitt. In the first novel, Admiral Sandecker invites Dirk Pitt to leave the Air Force and come with him in order to start the National Underwater Marine Agency in Washington, DC, which Pitt does. All of the other books deal with Pitt’s involvement with NUMA, his adventures and the mischief he gets into.

That was in 1965. Then in 1979 during an expedition, where I was searching for John Paul Jones’ ship, the Bonhomme Richard an Austin attorney who was a volunteer suggested that I should incorporate as a non-profit organization rather than just write the checks out of my own bank account. So that is what I did and that is how NUMA became a non-profit organization in Texas. Therefore, yes Virginia, there really is a NUMA! (laughing) And that was the basis for the non-fiction NUMA, which has been the umbrella for all the expeditions and all of the shipwrecks we’ve found.

As for the DOXA watch, when I was beginning my second book, I was the creative director for a big ad agency in L.A. My wife said jokingly, why don ‘t you apply for this job? It was a $400/month job as a clerk in a Dive shop, perfect for writing underwater books. Well, I was just considering switching agencies and I thought what the hell! She had a nifty job working nights at the local police department, which worked out very well. She had the kids during the day and I would have them at night. That way they were never alone. I would put the kids to bed, and then I had nothing to do and nobody to talk to, so I would write.

I applied for the job. They had three stores and they were shocked! They said that I was a little over qualified, but they hired me anyway. (laughing) And after two weeks, the guy said that there was nothing they could teach me. Hell I’ve been diving since 1952 in Hawaii while I was in the service. So I ran the store in Santa Ana, California. I’d come up in the morning with my portable typewriter and when business was slow, I would write.

U.S. Diver then was the distributor for the DOXA Dive watch, the 300T. The “in” color was Orange, but they also had silver and black, but you were “big-time” if you had an Orange watch. So, when I left the store I had finished my book, I shook hands with the guys and as a present they gave me the Orange DOXA dive watch. When I continued writing, I just had Dirk wear one too.

T2W: What are the qualities that attract you to this watch?

CC: At the time, this watch had a huge steel band, which most watches didn’t have in those days. We’re going back, boy; I’ve had that piece since ’69, 32 years. (laughing) It was a heavy watch, very massive and masculine looking. People would always remark about the thing. It was one of those you had to shake to keep it running. I’ve worn it many times diving in the past and it has never corroded or had any problems. There was a place called House of Clocks in L.A. where every ten years I would send my watch and they would rebuild it.

T2W: So I understand you still have that watch?

CC: Oh, sure.

T2W: Is this the same watch you are wearing on the rear cover of your latest book?

CC: That¹s it!

T2W: Do you feel at all responsible for the excitement the re-issue is generating?

CC: I guess indirectly I am (laughing), with Dirk Pitt, NUMA and all wearing a DOXA watch. I guess if it weren’t for that, they probably wouldn’t be re-issuing. I couldn’t believe it when I was told they were going to manufacture 1000 and that they were practically all sold already. Ever since Pitt was wearing one, collectors were dumbfounded; they were saying that it wasn’t an expensive watch, what’s all the fuss about. I understand the prices have been driven up since then; people are even paying $1000 for them. I’ve met people that tell me that they spent two years looking for one.

T2W: You stated that you used this watch while diving. In your opinion, what makes it a good dive watch?

CC: The bezel is very useful to time your dives and the orange face, surprisingly enough is VERY easy to read 30-40-50 down. It was just a good solid dive watch. I even have a US Diver’s logo on mine, the distributors at the time.

T2W: I have noticed that product description plays a large part in your books. I understand that Production of the movie Sahara will begin sometime in 2002. Will Dirk be wearing an Orange DOXA Diver in the movie?

CC: I don¹t know why not, he should.

T2W: I know that Omega has a lot to do with which watch James Bond has been wearing lately. Will DOXA be doing any product placement?

CC: Funny you should talk about product placement and advertising. My agent once had lunch with the advertising manager for Rolex; they had gone to school together. He asked him, how come you’ve used all these other people in the dive industry in your ads, but never thought of using Cussler? The advertising manager turned and said, who’s Cussler and what’s he ever done? (laughing) In this other book I had a guy with a Rolex that didn’t work so he smashed it on a rock. Every time I tell that story, I laugh. I find that Rolex watches are vastly overrated compared to the some of the more exotic watches that are available today. It’s still the “in” watch, because of the advertising or whatever.

T2W: Any additional comments on your upcoming movie?

CC: Not much to comment on, because they made a botch of Raise the Titanic 20 years ago. I wouldn’t sell to Hollywood. Finally they gave me script, director and casting approval, that’s when I sold.

T2W: Any idea who will be cast to play Dirk, Al and the others?

CC: Dirk is supposed top be played by Hugh Jackman*. He’s a real comer, he fits Pitt’s image perfectly. The rest of the casting will not start until January 2002. Right now everything is just status quo. The director is going to be Rob Bowman of X-Files fame.

T2W: You are considered one of the premier action/adventure writers. One of the keys to your writing is your incredible suspenseful timing. What can you say about timing and how does it play a role in your writing?

CC: I guess the books are kind of like the old Saturday afternoon matinee serials. Most of them were westerns in those days. Where the hero is going off the cliff in a car filled with dynamite and that’s were it would end, until you came back the following Saturday to find out what happened. The books are laid out that way, you would end a chapter on some kind cliffhanger and then “oh my god” what happens next? So you turn the page and start the next chapter.

T2W: I have to admit your books have been the cause of quite a number of sleepless nights. I just had to keep reading.

CC: (laughing) Sometimes my plot lines are so convoluted, I get calls from friends at 3 am saying; you SOB, you’ll never pull this one off.

T2W: As a matter of fact, yesterday evening while reading Atlantis Found, I noticed you had written yourself into your book! I must admit I got quite a laugh out of it. How did it come about?

CC: It was a couple of books back, where Pitt was at a classic car club meet. He parked his old car next to this guy, an older man with gray hair and a gray beard. Pitt walks up and says hi my name is Dirk Pitt and before I knew it I had typed in hello my name is Clive Cussler. I stopped and looked around and said, gee, why did I do that. Then I got to joking around and had them look at each other. Then Pitt says, you know the name sounds familiar, but I just can’t place the face. (laughing) So I just left it in as a joke, figured the readers would get a laugh out of it. I thought that was going to be the end of it, but then I got 300-400 letters saying how everybody liked it. So now I have to do a Hitchcock walk on and people are waiting to see where I come in.

T2W: On that note, can we expect to see you in the motion picture?

CC: Yes, I will be in SAHARA. In the book I was a prospector, but in the movie, I will be driving an old beat-up truck and rescuing Pitt and Giordino out in the Sahara.

T2W: In your opinion, what do you find most exciting about deep sea diving and exploration?

CC: It’s always the thrill of the unknown. Everybody dives in the Grand Cayman or Bermuda. I don’t dive in those places anymore, after 50 years the thrill just isn’t there. I always tell everybody, go where nobody goes! Go up into Canada or Alaska, sure it’s cold water, but you’ll be seeing things nobody has seen before! Go into the colder waters, from Vancouver up to Anchorage, my gosh, all the sounds and all that. Nobody ever dove there before. It’s colder than hell, but if you get a dry suit, it isn’t so bad.

T2W: You have found many shipwrecks, can you tell us which one the most important/impressive?

CC: Oh. There have been so many. Right now the one that is the big deal is the confederate submarine, the Hunley, which we found in Charleston. The first submarine to sink a warship, but never came back. We found it, raised and brought it to a laboratory where we will be excavating it. They will be preserving it so that someday it can go on display.

This year was pretty good, we found the Carpathia, Which of course rescued the Titanic survivors only to be torpedoed 6 years later off the coast of Ireland. And the Marie Celeste, Which was the famous ghost ship they found floating with nobody on board.

T2W: You have been writing Dirk Pitt novels for nearly 30 years now, is it getting more difficult as you go along or has it become easier as the character develops?

CC: I’ve used so many plots in my books that it’s getting hard to be original. That’s the trouble with a series, I’m writing away when I realize I used that same line of dialog six books back. It’s become very difficult to be original.

T2W: Are there any plans for another novel after this latest one?

CC: I have to write at least one more, because of the wild ending on Valhalla Rising, so I have to continue that one.

T2W: You recently published your first non-fiction work, could you tell us why you decided to take that direction?

CC: So many people use to tell me that I should write about all the shipwrecks I’ve found. At the time I was busy with the Pitt books, so I worked with a fellow named Craig Dirgo. He did a lot of the easy stuff for me, I would write the historical part, and then he would go through it and write some more for me. Then I would write in where NUMA came in the picture to look for the shipwreck and what have you.

It was an interesting story on The Sea Hunters. When my agent went to “pitch” it to my publisher, they just weren’t interested. They literally said that nobody reads shipwreck books. My agent insisted, well Cussler’s got a name and a following. When he came back to me, he was quite upset; he asked what should we do? So I said, let’s go to another publisher! Well obviously my publisher said that they couldn’t have that, me going to another publisher. So they gave in and said OK, we’ll print it, but only 50,000 copies. The sales department said no way; we know we can sell at least 250,000. Well the hardcover went #2 on the New York Time’s bestsellers list and the paperback went #1! We must have sold over 1 million some odd copies! (laughing) We always laugh and called it the book that nobody wanted.

T2W: It is my understanding that it is going to become a televised series?

CC: Yes, it’s going to be called The Sea Hunters and it will be filmed up in Nova Scotia. It will run internationally, but I’m not certain if it will run domestically. I will be like Arthur C. Clark; I will open and close each episode.

T2W: Of all of your books, which is your favorite so far?

CC: I like them all for different reasons. Night Probe was one of my better plots, Raise the Titanic was probably my best concept. People often ask me which car do you like in your collection? I like them all for different reasons.

T2W: How about explorers? Who is your favorite?

CC: The one that always intrigued me was Magellan, who circled around the world and Drake who did it the second time. I’m a history buff, I have a PHD in maritime history, so for me it’s just fun to follow. History is just not being taught in schools like it used to be. Kids today have no grasp. It is really unfortunate.

T2W: Thank you very much for this opportunity Dr. Cussler. This interview has been the highlight of my career so far.

CC: (Laughing)You’re welcome, Mr. Levesque. I’m sure you will have much bigger highlights in the future.

All in all, it was a very charming and warm interview. I could have gone on for hours and I got the impression that he would have gone along with me. What an incredibly humble and sincere person. As I told him, this definitely was the highlight of my writing career. I would like to take this opportunity to thank Carole Bartholomeaux for all of her help with this interview. Her firm is responsible for all of Clive Cussler’s and NUMA’s public relations as well as maintaining and editing the NUMA.net website.

Thanks for reading,

Marc Levesque
Time2watch

* Hugh Jackman was originally cast for the role of Dirk Pitt, unfortunately due to a scheduling conflict M. Jackman cannot play the part.

DOXA has just announced that they will be donating ten percent of the purchase price of each DOXA SEAHUNTER watch to NUMA. For more information please visit www.doxawatches.com.

There is a touch of Dirk Pitt in the soul of every man who longs for adventure.

I could search through the whole book and not find a better quote to reflect this novel. I’d change one thing though. I wouldn’t say man. It works for a woman, too.

In the Trojan Odyssey, the 20th in a series of Dirk Pitt novels, Clive Cussler grabs you and takes you on another thrilling adventure. The whole gang is back, after three novels with a new hero and two non-fiction books, Clive Cussler returns to his roots.

Dirk Pitt, Al Giordino, Admiral Sandecker, Rudi Gunn and the rest of the gang are all as brave and daring as ever in Trojan Odyssey.

Cussler, as always, manages the difficult task of creating a bad guy who has a plan to rule (or destroy) the earth. He puts the world in peril, always by way of the sea, then lets Dirk Pitt snatch the planet from the jaws of disaster.

Cussler has a style that is uniquely his. He begins his novels with a long ago myth. Then he jumps to some other, seemingly unrelated scene. He drags you into one of his stories, takes you to a moment of climax and jumps to another story.

I always think, “No don’t leave them there, hanging by a thread!” Then, before you know, you’re completely hooked by the new situation. The writing style keeps you on the edge of your seat until all Cussler’s stories collide.

Cussler’s fearless master of the sea is Dirk Pitt. He appears in Trojan Odyssey, but he doesn’t appear until Chapter 9. Of course, he shows up right in the nick of time. Cussler has such sure disaster heading your way that you’re going to think the catastrophe is the basis of the story. Then Dirk shows up.

Oh, my gosh, Cussler’s going to let them live. BUT HOW?

A little side note: at first, if you’re not a Cussler fan, you think… “Dirk Pitt? What kind of dumb name is that?” By the end, I promise, you’ll be wanting to name your first child Dirk. Pitt is the bravest, strongest, smartest hero that has ever wise-cracked his way through the pages of literature.

If you’ve never read Cussler before, you have a real treat in store for you because a body of work this rich is still out there waiting for you. If you’re a fan, then you can’t miss Trojan Odyssey because big things are in store for Dirk.

Between his bold characters and fast-paced writing, there’s no escape from a Cussler novel. In the end, you snap the book closed and think, “I’ve got to learn to SCUBA dive, or join the Navy, or at least go ice skating.” You need an adventure. You need the water. Cussler makes you long for adventure.

The rating Sleep Robber doesn’t go far enough for Cussler. Because I laid awake a couple of nights AFTER I’d finished the book, trying to figure out how to arrange a SCUBA diving adventure along some coral reef. I’ve heard the Great Barrier Reef in Australia is nice! Brace yourself. And don’t plan a winter vacation until after you’re read Trojan Odyssey. You’re going to want an adventure under the sea.

Nobody does it better than Cussler. I rate Trojan Odyssey an A+ Sleep Robber.

Remainder of article removed by author as the nature of the content was not relevant to the NUMA Web site. This article originally appeared in the Lyons Mirror-Sun newspaper.