by Victoria Brown
Header photo courtesy of the Downtown Houston Aquarium
Disgruntled employees, unwanted Santa outfits, 19th Century brotherhoods, and knowledge of different types of algae? We take a detailed look at the almost decade-long litigation that has plagued a very public, but little-known, tentacle of the scientific diving community. The good news? This saga could inadvertently prove to be the catalyst for modernizing this self-regulating community of divers.
Landry’s Downtown Houston Aquarium has recently won an eight-year long legal dog fight against the U.S. Department of Labor’s Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA). The latest ruling, one that has not and now cannot be challenged by the Department, ruled in favor of the Aquarium, finally putting the matter to rest. Despite this being described as “the battle of our time” by the Houston Aquarium’s Corporate Dive Program Manager, Todd Hall, scientific divers across the USA—and the world—have been relatively silent on the matter, and the win has been under-celebrated.
If OSHA had challenged the ruling. it would have seen the case tried in the Supreme Court, the highest court in America. In this article, we dive under the surface of the case and draw attention to how this landmark ruling could benefit the global scientific diving community in years to come.
Scientific Diving Guidelines
The guidelines governing scientific diving were born out of challenges to the original 1977 OSHA publication of standards for commercial diving operations. These applied to any diving in the natural or artificial inland body of water, as well as diving along the coast of the US and other listed territories. These standards made no provisions for diving performed solely for scientific research and development purposes, despite many dive programs operating safely and independently before the publication of the standards.
The educational institutions who championed this niche in diving quickly argued for exemption on the grounds that there were already standards in place before the OSHA publication, pointing to the University of California Guide for Diving Safety adopted in 1973. Furthermore, and perhaps more poignantly, they cited their impeccable safety record which was a result of efficient self-regulation.
The main crux of their argument was that the educational/scientific and commercial diving conditions are not congruent, therefore they cannot be subject to the same standards. This pressure led to OSHA deciding, in August 1979, to officially look into the matter, as they wanted to better understand the issue at hand. This move on the part of OSHA opened the gateway for non-educational scientific diving organizations such as the American Academy of Underwater Science (AAUS) to be formed, strengthening the case for exemption.
The scientific diving community proved victorious on November 26, 1982, when OSHA, after extensive consultation and public hearings on both the east and west coasts, granted a dispensation to divers that met their definition of scientific diver. [Recreational diving instruction was also deemed exempt from commercial regulation]. They also stipulated that scientific divers must operate under a diving program that utilized a safety manual and that had an adequate diving control board in place. In a bizarre twist, this was challenged by the Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners Union, which filed for a judicial review, seeking further guidance on what type of enterprises could be exempt.
This legal challenge led to the publication and adoption of the guidelines in place today, fatefully titled, “Commercial Diving Operations-Exemption for Scientific Diving-Final guidelines.”
These guidelines stated that the exemption is valid as long as the diving programs operated under a diving control board with autonomous and absolute authority, utilised a diving manual covering all diving operations specific to the program including standards and practices, emergency assistance plans that cover recompression and evacuation, as well criteria for diver training and certification.
The Case Against The Aquarium
Fast forward to 2012, and this exemption became the fighting ground for an appeal by the Downtown Houston Aquarium for relief from approximately $20,000 worth of penalties issued by an OSHA inspector, who during an inspection had applied commercial diving standards to the program despite its scientific status. It was not the cost of the penalties that spurred the appeal but the implications of accepting the inspector’s citations. This included the associated costs of adapting the program to commercial diving standards and, more importantly, the potential increased risk to divers of applying those standards.
It was a tough pill for this little known part of the scientific community to swallow given its good safety record, and there was also the danger of a domino effect with other programs being treated in the same way, something which would seriously hinder future research from both a financial and safety point of view.
Indeed, this created unrest among aquarium programs causing some to make the costly switch to commercial standards in anticipation. Mauritius Bell, the president of the Association of Dive Program Administrators (ADPA) and program administrator at California Academy of Sciences, reported in an interview that in a recent ADPA survey of their members, more than 50% of zoos and aquariums were operating under commercial standards. He believed that the percentage would have been much lower before the citation.
The Landry’s Houston Aquarium operates a six-acre entertainment complex with a 500,000-gallon aquatic tank that houses over 300 species from all around the globe, reptile and bird exhibits, large dining halls, and a selection of white Bengal tigers amongst their jam-packed entertainment attractions. Despite this touristic facade, Landry’s Aquarium also operates as a scientific research center and the tanks are maintained as best as possible to replicate the natural ecosystems for marine life.
In 2011, a employee who was partaking in the diving program was asked to leave his post apparently after a disagreement relating to a Santa outfit. This disgruntled employee, in turn, complained to OSHA and accused Houston Aquarium of not following the commercial diving standards on dives they executed as part of the daily aquarium operations. He sent OSHA portions of the Code of Federal Regulations, along with his complaint detailing his concerns with the diving practices, and accusing Houston Aquarium of not following commercial diving standards on dives that, it could be argued, were not for the purposes of data capture.
OSHA—and rightfully so—has a policy of deploying an inspector to investigate any complaints of this nature. Mark Chapman, the local Compliance Health and Safety Officer, was assigned to the case, and after visitation, deemed that everything was in order according to the scientific diving exemption of the commercial diving regulations. Chapman documented the aquarium’s stringent record-keeping across a long history, that their appropriate dive medicals were in place and up to date, and that all safety equipment was in the right place.
These findings were challenged by the ex-employee who lodged a further complaint with the national OSHA office, leading to a second investigation in February 2012. During this inspection, Chapman uncovered new evidence that formed the basis of the Citation and Notification of Penalty that was issued on July 10, 2012. It was determined that divers who clean the tanks and feed the animals were not conducting scientific dives, and, as a result, those dives were subject to the more stringent commercial diving operation standards. This is the only time OSHA has issued such a citation to an aquarium program that claims scientific status.
What is a Scientific Dive?
The aquarium realized the potential impact on the broader scientific community, as well as their program, and decided to appeal. This led to the case being heard by an Administrative Law Judge (ALJ) in February 2019, a little less than seven years later.
The proceedings identified three types of dives: feeding/cleaning dives, event dives, and mortality dives (during which dead animals are removed and taken to the Aquarium’s lab for examination). During the initial three- day hearing, the ALJ ruled some activities did not fall within the exemption, namely the feed, clean, and event dives. Consequently, on February 15, 2019, the majority of OSHA’s Review Commission panel affirmed the ALJ’s determinations that these did not meet the plain text definition; interestingly, the Chairman of the Commission dissented.
The aquarium conceded that the event dives were extraneous to the scientific research being conducted, but strongly disagreed that the feed and clean dives could be seen in the same light, chiefly because these dives underpinned the research conducted by the aquarium. It was reported at the time that Landry’s general counsel and executive vice president, Steve Scheinthal, was of the opinion that OSHA had overstepped its bounds and vowed to appeal. His challenge to the ruling was launched on April 16, 2019, when the aquarium, led by senior diving officer Todd Hall, petitioned a higher court to review the judge’s ruling, focusing on the decision to side with the lay testimony of an OSHA Compliance Officer whilst excluding expert testimony.
Furthermore, they took issue with the OSHA declaration that the application of commercial diving safety regulations should be enforced on the aquarium because they were not performed by “employees whose sole purpose for diving is to perform scientific research tasks,” despite it being substantiated during the hearing that the Aquarium’s employees all hold scientific bachelors and masters degrees. Another citation was issued for not having decompression tables at the exhibits, but they were proven to be nearby in the dive locker which was fully accessible by the divers. All in all, there were many grounds for a challenge.
And so we arrive back at the landmark decision reached by the fifth circuit Federal Court Of Appeals (just below the Supreme Court) in July of this year, which can no longer be contested by OSHA. The court was sensitive to the fact that the divers completing these activities are trained scientists and learned that there was a requirement for them to observe animal health and behaviors, eating patterns, and the types of algae growing in the tank.
Furthermore, during the appeal it was proven that this information was recorded upon completion of their dives, thus meeting the criteria of data capture which is the basis for the criteria of what defines a scientific dive. The court also listened and agreed with expert testimony stating that adhering to the OSHA commercial standards in the context of a scientific dive would make the divers and animals “less safe.” Indeed, Todd Hall had testified from the beginning that this was the case, pointing out that a diver could get to the surface quicker than switching to a second air supply and that extra equipment in the exhibits created a hazard to the animals. When asked to comment on the ruling Hall said, “It took eight and a half years to come full circle. The take away was that we were right all along because the judge used our exact logic from day one of why we were safe and why more equipment doesn’t make us safer.”
The Quest for Global Scientific Diving Standards
This was not just a victory for one aquarium, as over the last few months many that had made the switch to the OSHA commercial standards have quickly reverted to the more appropriate and safer scientific standards that they followed before the 2012 citations. It could also be argued that this was also a win for the scientific diving community as a whole which, through organizations such as the American Academy of Underwater Sciences (AAUS), has been vocal that there is a need for more clarity from OSHA on the criteria for exemption.
Jessica Keller, a NOAA employee and the current secretary of AAUS, believes this is a long-standing issue. “There’s a question of when to apply commercial diving standards vs. when to apply the scientific exemption. We needed clarification in these grey areas.”
When speaking with her colleague Derek Smith, President of AAUS and a previous expert witness for the Aquarium put forward by ADPA, he echoed Keller’s sentiment and sees this very much as the beginning rather than the end of the matter. “Celebrating the victory is short-lived, as this landmark is cementing the practices followed not only by the Houston Aquarium, but a large majority of aquariums across the USA and the world,” he said. “It’s a silent victory about practices they have carried out for years and years. I believe there is now the opportunity to dive headfirst into a new battle and push for updating of the standards for Commercial Diving Operations (CDO) and its exemptions.”
It must be noted—and this was highlighted by Derek Smith—that the ruling pertains to the three states that the Fifth Circuit has jurisdiction over, and cannot fully be used as a precedent. Having said that, he went on to say that it is certainly a case that can be referenced. The AAUS has offered to work with OSHA in assessing exemption claims; as an organization that oversees the standards for one hundred and fifty-two scientific diving programs, AAUS argues that they are better placed to make the call on what is exempt, since they have access to decades of accrued data.
Derek Smith confirmed that the AAUS has begun this partnership work and is hopeful that this will prevent any other aggressive and baseless enforcement against programs claiming exemption. Keller also celebrated this move, stating, “The most important thing is now we have opened the lines of communications, and I’m glad that OSHA is interested in having a better pulse on what’s happening in the field.”
This case has also given rise to conversations around the modernisation of the standards followed by scientific divers and the benefits to science this could yield. For example, Todd Hall believes that using a rebreather would allow for closer and improved observation of the animals, as well as minimising the impact on the ecosystem.
The ripple effect has not stopped there, as the global scientific community looks to the US when setting standards. Smith and the AAUS are certainly playing a role in painting what that future looks like for the community as a whole. When asked to talk about what is next, Smith passionately explained:
We are trying to unify everyone on a world level. I’m heading up (for the AAUS) a scientific diving training council which is akin to the recreational scuba training council, we have all the major scientific diving standard-setting organizations across the world to agree to a common standard that we will all follow. It’s at the stage now where it’s going out to all our boards, Canada, the US, Mexico, and we have about 100 countries represented so far. [We are seeking] unified training standards so we can enjoy some level of formal recognition of prior training so scientists can move freely across the world to work.
According to Smith, the goal is to establish a global organization that will mirror the role that The World Recreational Scuba Training Council (WRSTC) plays in recreational diving in protecting the worldwide safety of the recreational diving public, primarily through the development of worldwide minimum training standards. The World Scientific Diving Training Council (WSDTC) was established last year, putting foundations for minimum training standards into the ground. This is a tall task, as there are no doubt some territories that have their own entrenched standards. For example, the Health and Safety Executive in the UK has a strong hold on this type of diving dating back to the Diving at Work Regulations 1997, Approved Code of Practise and Guidance.
What will be the impact of this global action? Keller was quick to point to the the potential benefits, both in the short and longer term, of this new consolidated way of working in the scientific community:
Let’s create this global minimum standard for science so that reciprocity and international collaboration can be easier and so we can trade information. Our oceans are in trouble with sea level rise, and we need to understand it better. Moving forward we need it to be easier. If we can get our own house in order that will help us globally, [and] having an organization to help set these standards will help save the world.
This is yet to be proven, but what is more certain at this point is that this sensational court case has drawn attention to the fact that scientific diving has self-regulated without incident for the pastthree decades. It could be viewed that the case was an unnecessary eventuality born out of a plot of revenge by a disaffected actor; but, it could also be viewed as a necessary evil that may just have ensured that this community of divers continues to keep each other safe.
- The Secretary of Labor vs. Houston Aquarium Inc.
- Oral Arguments: The Court Recordings
- American Academy of Underwater Scientists
- OSHA Commercial Diving Operations (CDO): 1910 Subpart T App B – Guidelines for scientific diving
- OSHA EXEMPTION, AAUS, AND SCIENTIFIC DIVING
- Health & Safety Executive (HSE): Scientific and archaeological diving projects. Diving at Work regulations 1997. Approved Code of Practice and guidance
- European Scientific Diving Panel (ESDP): The European Scientific Diving Panel (ESDP) acts as an operational platform to advance underwater scientific excellence and to promote and implement a practical support framework for scientific diving related activities.
- University of California Santa Barbara: Dive Safety Manual Standards For Scientific Diving
- Scripps Institution of Oceanography University of California, San Diego: Manual for Diving Safety
Avidly exploring the underwater world since she was twelve, Victoria Brown has been a professional diver for sixteen years and is now based back in the UK following many years touring the snowiest peaks and deepest green seas. From safety diving on media projects to creating content for the coolest brands in the diving industry, she has diving written all over her.
Twenty-five Years in the Pursuit of Excellence – The Evolution and Future of GUE
Founder and president Jarrod Jablonski describes his more than a quarter of a century long quest to promote excellence in technical diving.
by Jarrod Jablonski. Images courtesy of J. Jablonski and GUE unless noted.
The most difficult challenges we confront in our lives are the most formative and are instrumental in shaping the person we become. When I founded Global Underwater Explorers (GUE), the younger version of myself could not have foreseen all the challenges I would face, but equally true is that he would not have known the joy, the cherished relationships, the sense of purpose, the rich adventures, the humbling expressions of appreciation from those impacted, or the satisfaction of seeing the organization evolve and reshape our industry. Many kindred souls and extraordinary events have shaped these last 25 years, and an annotated chronology of GUE is included in this issue of InDEPTH. This timeline, however, will fail to capture the heart behind the creation of GUE, it will miss the passionate determination currently directing GUE, or the committed dedication ready to guide the next 25 years.
I don’t remember a time that I was not in, around, and under the water. Having learned to swim before I could walk, my mother helped infuse a deep connection to the aquatic world. I was scuba certified in South Florida with my father, and promptly took all our gear to North Florida where I became a dive instructor at the University of Florida. It was then that I began my infatuation with cave diving. I was in the perfect place for it, and my insatiable curiosity was multiplied while exploring new environments. I found myself with a strong desire to visit unique and hard-to-reach places, be they far inside a cave or deep within the ocean.
My enthusiasm for learning was pressed into service as an educator, and I became enamored with sharing these special environments. Along with this desire to share the beauty and uniqueness of underwater caves was a focused wish to assist people in acquiring the skills I could see they needed to support their personal diving goals. It could be said that these early experiences were the seeds that would germinate, grow, mature, and bloom into the organizing principles for GUE.
The Pre-GUE Years
Before jumping into the formational days of GUE, allow me to help you visualize the environment that was the incubator for the idea that became GUE’s reality. By the mid-1990s, I was deeply involved in a variety of exploration activities and had been striving to refine my own teaching capacity alongside this growing obsession for exploratory diving. While teaching my open water students, I was in the habit of practicing to refine my own trim and buoyancy, noticing that the students quickly progressed and were mostly able to copy my position in the water. Rather than jump immediately into the skills that were prescribed, I started to take more time to refine their comfort and general competency. This subtle shift made a world of difference in the training outcomes, creating impressive divers with only slightly more time and a shift in focus. In fact, the local dive boats would often stare in disbelief when told these divers were freshly certified, saying they looked better than most open water instructors!
By this point in my career, I could see the problems I was confronting were more systemic and less individualistic. In retrospect, it seemed obvious that key principles had been missing in both my recreational and technical education, not to mention the instructor training I received. The lack of basic skill refinement seemed to occur at all levels of training, from the beginner to the advanced diver. Core skills like buoyancy or in-water control were mainly left for divers to figure out on their own and almost nobody had a meaningful emphasis on efficient movement in the water. It was nearly unheard of to fail people in scuba diving, and even delaying certification for people with weak skills was very unusual. This remains all too common to this day, but I believe GUE has shifted the focus in important ways, encouraging people to think of certification more as a process and less as a right granted to them because they paid for training.
The weakness in skill refinement during dive training was further amplified by little-to-no training in how to handle problems when they developed while diving, as they always do. In those days, even technical/cave training had very little in the way of realistic training in problem resolution. The rare practice of failures was deeply disconnected from reality. For example, there was almost no realistic scenario training for things like a failed regulator or light. What little practice there was wasn’t integrated into the actual dive and seemed largely useless in preparing for real problems. I began testing some of my students with mock equipment failures, and I was shocked at how poorly even the best students performed. They were able to quickly develop the needed skills, but seeing how badly most handled their first attempts left me troubled about the response of most certified divers should they experience problems while diving, as they inevitably would.
Meanwhile, I was surrounded by a continual progression of diving fatalities, and most appeared entirely preventable. The loss of dear friends and close associates had a deep impact on my view of dive training and especially on the procedures being emphasized at that time within the community. The industry, in those early days, was wholly focused on deep air and solo diving. However, alarmingly lacking were clear bottle marking or gas switching protocols. It seemed to me to be no coincidence that diver after diver lost their lives simply because they breathed the wrong bottle at depth. Many others died mysteriously during solo dives or while deep diving with air.
One of the more impactful fatalities was Bob McGuire, who was a drill sergeant, friend, and occasional dive buddy. He was normally very careful and focused. One day a small problem with one regulator caused him to switch regulators before getting in the water. He was using a system that used color-coded regulators to identify the gas breathed. When switching the broken regulator, he either did not remember or did not have an appropriately colored regulator. This small mistake cost him his life. I clearly remember turning that one around in my head quite a bit. Something that trivial should not result in the loss of a life.
Also disturbing was the double fatality of good friends, Chris and Chrissy Rouse, who lost their lives while diving a German U-boat in 70 m/230 ft of water off the coast of New Jersey. I remember, as if the conversation with Chris were yesterday, asking him not to use air and even offering to support the cost as a counter to his argument about the cost of helium. And the tragedies continued: The loss of one of my closest friends Sherwood Schille, the death of my friend Steve Berman who lived next to me and with whom I had dived hundreds of times, the shock of losing pioneering explorer Sheck Exley, the regular stream of tech divers, and the half dozen body recoveries I made over only a couple years, which not only saddened me greatly, but also made me angry. Clearly, a radically different approach was needed.
Learning to Explore
Meanwhile, my own exploration activities were expanding rapidly. Our teams were seeking every opportunity to grow their capability while reducing unnecessary risk. To that end, we ceased deep air diving and instituted a series of common protocols with standardized equipment configurations, both of which showed great promise in expanding safety, efficiency, and comfort. We got a lot of things wrong and experienced enough near misses to keep us sharp and in search of continual improvement.
But we looked carefully at every aspect of our diving, seeking ways to advance safety, efficiency, and all-around competency while focusing plenty of attention into the uncommon practice of large-scale, team diving, utilizing setup dives, safety divers, and inwater support. We developed diver propulsion vehicle (DPV) towing techniques, which is something that had not been done previously. We mostly ignored and then rewrote CNS oxygen toxicity calculations, developed novel strategies for calculating decompression time, and created and refined standard procedures for everything from bottle switching to equipment configurations. Many of these developments arose from simple necessity. There were no available decompression programs and no decompression tables available for the dives we were doing. Commonly used calculations designed to reduce the risk of oxygen toxicity were useless to our teams, because even our more casual dives were 10, 20, or even 30 times the allowable limit. The industry today takes most of this for granted, but in the early days of technical diving, we had very few tools, save a deep motivation to go where no one had gone before.
Many of these adventures included friends in the Woodville Karst Plain Project (WKPP), where I refined policies within the team and most directly with longtime dive buddy George Irvine. This “Doing it Right” (DIR) approach sought to create a more expansive system than Hogarthian diving, which itself had been born in the early years of the WKPP and was named after William Hogarth Main, a friend and frequent dive buddy of the time. By this point, I had been writing about and expanding upon Hogarthian diving for many years. More and more of the ideas we wanted to develop were not Bill Main’s priorities and lumping them into his namesake became impractical, especially given all the debate within the community over what was and was not Hogarthian.
A similar move from DIR occurred some years later when GUE stepped away from the circular debates that sought to explain DIR and embraced a GUE configuration with standard protocols, something entirely within our scope to define.
These accumulating events reached critical mass in 1998. I had experienced strong resistance to any form of standardization, even having been asked to join a special meeting of the board of directors (BOD) for a prominent cave diving agency. Their intention was to discourage me from using any form of standard configuration, claiming that students should be allowed to do whatever they “felt’ was best. It was disconcerting for me, as a young instructor, to be challenged by pioneers in the sport; nevertheless, I couldn’t agree with the edict that someone who was doing something for the first time should be tasked with determining how it should be done.
This sort of discussion was common, but the final straw occurred when I was approached by the head of a technical diving agency, an organization for which I had taught for many years. I was informed that he considered it a violation of standards not to teach air to a depth of at least 57 m/190 ft. This same individual told me that I had to stop using MOD bottle markings and fall in line with the other practices endorsed by his agency. Push had finally come to shove, and I set out to legitimize the training methods and dive protocols that had been incubating in my mind and refined with our teams over the previous decade. Years of trial and many errors while operating in dynamic and challenging environments were helping us to identify what practices were most successful in support of excellence, safety, and enjoyment.
Forming GUE as a non-profit company was intended to neutralize the profit motivations that appeared to plague other agencies. We hoped to remove the incentive to train—and certify—the greatest number of divers as quickly as possible because it seemed at odds with ensuring comfortable and capable divers. The absence of a profit motive complemented the aspirational plans that longtime friend Todd Kincaid and I had dreamed of. We imagined a global organization that would facilitate the efforts of underwater explorers while supporting scientific research and conservation initiatives.
I hoped to create an agency that placed most of the revenue in the hands of fully engaged and enthusiastic instructors, allowing them the chance to earn a good living and become professionals who might stay within the industry over many years. Of course, that required forgoing the personal benefit of ownership and reduced the revenue available to the agency, braking its growth and complicating expansion plans. This not only slowed growth but provided huge challenges in developing a proper support network while creating the agency I envisioned. There were years of stressful days and nights because of the need to forgo compensation and the deep dependance upon generous volunteers who had to fit GUE into their busy lives. If it were not for these individuals and our loyal members, we would likely never have been successful. Volunteer support and GUE membership have been and remain critical to the growing success of our agency. If you are now or have ever been a volunteer or GUE member, your contribution is a significant part of our success, and we thank you.
The challenges of the early years gave way to steady progress—always slower than desired, with ups and downs, but progress, nonetheless. Some challenges were not obvious at the outset. For example, many regions around the world were very poorly developed in technical diving. Agencies intent on growth seemed to ignore that problem, choosing whoever was available, and regardless of their experience in the discipline, they would soon be teaching.
This decision to promote people with limited experience became especially problematic when it came to Instructor Trainers. People with almost no experience in something like trimix diving were qualifying trimix instructors. Watching this play out in agency after agency, and on continent after continent, was a troubling affair. Conversely, it took many years for GUE to develop and train people of appropriate experience, especially when looking to critical roles, including high-level tech and instructor trainers. At the same time, GUE’s efforts shaped the industry in no small fashion as agencies began to model their programs after GUE’s training protocols. Initially, having insisted that nobody would take something like Fundamentals, every agency followed suit in developing their own version of these programs, usually taught by divers that had followed GUE training.
This evolving trend wasn’t without complexity but was largely a positive outcome. Agencies soon focused on fundamental skills, incorporated some form of problem-resolution training, adhered to GUE bottle and gas switching protocols, reduced insistence on deep air, and started talking more about developing skilled divers, among other changes. This evolution was significant when compared to the days of arguing about why a person could not learn to use trimix until they were good while diving deep on air.
To be sure, a good share of these changes was more about maintaining business relevance than making substantive improvements. The changes themselves were often more style than substance, lacking objective performance standards and the appropriate retraining of instructors. Despite these weaknesses, they remain positive developments. Talking about something is an important first step and, in all cases, it makes room for strong instructors in any given agency to practice what is being preached. In fact, these evolving trends have allowed GUE to now push further in the effort to create skilled and experienced divers, enhancing our ability to run progressively more elaborate projects with increasingly more sophisticated outcomes.
The Future of GUE
The coming decades of GUE’s future appear very bright. Slow but steady growth has now placed the organization in a position to make wise investments, ensuring a vibrant and integrated approach. Meanwhile, evolving technology and a broad global base place GUE in a unique and formidable position. Key structural and personnel adjustments complement a growing range of virtual tools, enabling our diverse communities and representatives to collaborate and advance projects in a way that, prior to now, was not possible. Strong local communities can be easily connected with coordinated global missions; these activities include ever-more- sophisticated underwater initiatives as well as structural changes within the GUE ecosystem. One such forward-thinking project leverages AI-enabled, adaptive learning platforms to enhance both the quality and efficiency of GUE education. Most agencies, including GUE, have been using some form of online training for years, but GUE is taking big steps to reinvent the quality and efficiency of this form of training. This is not to replace, but rather to extend and augment inwater and in-person learning outcomes. Related tools further improve the fluidity, allowing GUE to seamlessly connect previously distant communities, enabling technology, training, and passion to notably expand our ability to realize our broad, global mission.
Meanwhile, GUE and its range of global communities are utilizing evolving technologies to significantly expand the quality and scope of their project initiatives. Comparing the impressive capability of current GUE communities with those of our early years shows a radical and important shift, allowing results equal or even well beyond those possible when compared even with well-funded commercial projects. Coupled with GUE training and procedural support, these ongoing augmentations place our communities at the forefront of underwater research and conservation. This situation will only expand and be further enriched with the use of evolving technology and closely linked communities. Recent and planned expansions to our training programs present a host of important tools that will continue being refined in the years to come. Efforts to expand and improve upon the support provided to GUE projects with technology, people, and resources are now coming online and will undoubtedly be an important part of our evolving future.
The coming decades will undoubtedly present challenges. But I have no doubt that together we will not only overcome those obstacles but we will continue to thrive. I believe that GUE’s trajectory remains overwhelmingly positive, for we are an organization that is continually evolving—driven by a spirit of adventure, encouraged by your heartwarming stories, and inspired by the satisfaction of overcoming complex problems. Twenty-five years ago, when I took the path less traveled, the vision I had for GUE was admittedly ambitious. The reality, however, has exceeded anything I could have imagined. I know that GUE will never reach a point when it is complete but that it will be an exciting lifelong journey, one that, for me, will define a life well lived. I look forward our mutual ongoing “Quest for Excellence.”
Jarrod is an avid explorer, researcher, author, and instructor who teaches and dives in oceans and caves around the world. Trained as a geologist, Jarrod is the founder and president of GUE and CEO of Halcyon and Extreme Exposure while remaining active in conservation, exploration, and filming projects worldwide. His explorations regularly place him in the most remote locations in the world, including numerous world record cave dives with total immersions near 30 hours. Jarrod is also an author with dozens of publications, including three books.
A Few GUE Fundamentals
Similar to military, commercial and public safety divers, Global Underwater Explorers (GUE) is a standards-based diving community, with specific protocols, standard operating procedures (SOPs) and tools. Here are selected InDEPTH stories on some of the key aspects of GUE diving, including a four-part series on the history and development of GUE decompression procedures by founder and president Jarod Jablonski.
GUE Instructor Examiner Guy Shockey explains the thought and details that goes into GUE’s most popular course, Fundamentals, aka “Fundies,” which has been taken by numerous industry luminaries. Why all the fanfare? Shockey characterizes the magic as “simple things done precisely!
Instructor evaluator Rich Walker attempts to answer the question, “why is Fundamentals GUE’s most popular diving course?” Along the way, he clarifies some of the myths and misconceptions about GUE training. Hint: there is no Kool-Aid.
As you’d expect, Global Underwater Explorers (GUE) has a standardized approach to prepare your equipment for the dive, and its own pre-dive checklist: the GUE EDGE. Here explorer and filmmaker Dimitris Fifis preps you to take the plunge, GUE-style.
Instructor trainer Guy Shockey discusses the purpose, value, and yes, flexibility of standard operating procedures, or SOPs, in diving. Sound like an oxymoron? Shockey explains how SOPs can help offload some of our internal processing and situational awareness, so we can focus on the important part of the dive—having FUN!
Like the military and commercial diving communities before them, Global Underwater Explorers (GUE) uses standardized breathing mixtures for various depth ranges and for decompression. Here British wrecker and instructor evaluator Rich Walker gets lyrical and presents the reasoning behind standard mixes and their advantages, compared with a “best mix” approach. Don’t worry, you won’t need your hymnal, though Walker may have you singing some blues.
Is it a secret algorithm developed by the WKPP to get you out of the water faster sans DCI, or an unsubstantiated decompression speculation promoted by Kool-Aid swilling quacks and charlatans? British tech instructor/instructor evaluator Rich Walker divulges the arcane mysteries behind GUE’s ratio decompression protocols in this first of a two part series.
Global Underwater Explorers is known for taking its own holistic approach to gear configuration. Here GUE board member and Instructor Trainer Richard Lundgren explains the reasoning behind its unique closed-circuit rebreather configuration. It’s all about the gas!
Though they were late to the party, Global Underwater Explorers (GUE) is leaning forward on rebreathers, and members are following suit. So what’s to become of their open circuit-based TECH 2 course? InDepth’s Ashley Stewart has the deets.
Diving projects, or expeditions—think Bill Stone’s Wakulla Springs 1987 project, or the original explorations of the Woodville Karst Plain’s Project (WKPP)—helped give birth to technical diving, and today continue as an important focal point and organizing principle for communities like Global Underwater Explorers (GUE). The organization this year unveiled a new Project Diver program, intended to elevate “community-led project dives to an entirely new level of sophistication.” Here, authors Guy Shockey and Francesco Cameli discuss the power of projects and take us behind the scenes of the new program
Decompression, Deep Stops and the Pursuit of Precision in a Complex World In this first of a four-part series, Global Underwater Explorers’ (GUE) founder and president Jarrod Jablonski explores the historical development of GUE decompression protocols, with a focus on technical diving and the evolving trends in decompression research.