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opened the hatch through which they'd entered the bell and

swam to the designated workstation. While in the water the divers were tethered with an umbilical cord
containing hoses for their breathing gas, for hot water to heat their neoprene dry suits, for sensing wires, and for communication cables. Since the divers on the Benthic Explorer used full face masks, communication was possible, although difficult, due to voice distortion in the helium-oxygen mixture they breathed. The sensing wires carried information about each diver's heart rate, breathing rate, and breathing-gas oxygen pressure. All three levels were monitored continuously on a real-time basis. Larry looked up from his desk and regarded his second team of divers with disdain. He couldn't believe how slovenly, brazen, and unprofessional they invariably appeared. He noted Michael's jaunty baseball cap and ripped shirt, but he didn't say anything. Similar to the Navy, he tolerated behavior in the divers that he would not tolerate with other members of his team. Three other divers who were equally aggravating and obstreperous were still in one of the DDCs, decompressing from the last dive on the well head. When diving to almost a thousand feet, decompression time is measured in days not hours. "I'm sorry to have awakened you clowns from your beauty sleep," Larry said. "It took you long enough to get down here."
"I had to floss my teeth," Richard said. "And I had to do my nails," Louis said. He flapped his hand in a swishy, loose wrist fashion. Michael rolled his eyes with mock disgust. "Hey, don't start!" Louis growled while eyeing Michael. He poked one of his meaty fingers in his friend's face. Michael batted it away.
"All right, listen up, you animals!" Larry yelled. "Try to control yourselves. This is going to be a nine-hundred-and-eighty-foot dive to inspect and change the drill bit." "Oh, something new, eh, chief?" Richard said in a high, squeaky voice. "This is the fifth time this dive's been done and the third time for us. Let's get on with it." "Shut up and listen," Larry commanded. "There's something new involved. You're going to be piggybacking a corer on the diamond bit so that we can see if we can get a decent sample of whatever the hell we're trying to drill into."
"Sounds good," Richard said.
"We're going to speed up compression time," Larry said. "There's some brass aboard who's in a hurry for results. We're going to see if we can get you down to depth in a couple of hours. Now I want to hear immediately if there's any joint pain. I don't want anybody playing macho diver. Understand?" All three divers nodded.
"We'll lock in chow as soon as it comes up from the galley," Larry continued. "But I want you guys in your bunks for the compression, and that means no screwing around and no fights." "We're going to play cards," Louis said. "If you play cards do it from your bunks," Larry said. "And I repeat: no fights. If there are any, the cards are coming out. Do I make myself clear?"

Larry eyed each man in turn, who averted his gaze. No one contested the terms of the arrangement.
"I'm going to take this rare silence as acquiescence," Larry said. "Now, Adams, you'll be red diver. Donaghue, you'll be green diver. Mazzola, you'll be bell diver." Richard and Michael cheered and then leaned across to one another and high-fived. Louis blew out disgustedly through pursed lips. The bell diver's job during the dive was to remain inside the PTC to play out the tethers for the red and green divers and watch the gauges; he did not enter the water except in an emergency. Although this position was safer, it was looked down upon by divers. The designations of red and green diver were used to avoid any confusion in communications with topside that might occur if given or surnames were used. On the Benthic Explorer red diver was recognized to be the on-site leader.
Larry reached down on his desk and picked up a clipboard. He handed it over to Richard. "Here's the predive