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Jacques Cousteau called it “rapture of the deep.” Local divers call it “getting narked.” Others refer to it as the “Martini Effect.” Its technical name is nitrogen narcosis. Whatever you want to call it, I got it Saturday morning…big time.
Gases, when absorbed at higher than normal atmospheric pressure, have a narcotic-like effect on the human body. While some are greater than others (xenon versus neon, for instance) nearly all gases have this intoxicating effect, including oxygen. In fact, breathing pure oxygen under pressure is so dangerous that it cannot be used safely beyond 19.8 feet deep. This leads to what’s called “oxygen toxicity” and is lethal. Nitrogen, by far the most plentiful gas in our atmosphere (about 70%), though having less narcotic potential than oxygen at an identical depth, has a narcotic potential just the same. For most people its noticeable effects vary anywhere from 50 feet on, usually at around 100 feet. Personal factors such as health and fatigue as well as environmental conditions such as water temperature can have an impact on susceptibility and severity of the narcosis. And while nitrogen narcosis isn’t itself life threatening and easily reversible by ascending to a shallower depth, its impacts on concentration, psychomotor function and problem solving can prove extremely dangerous often leading to poor decision making and, in a hazardous environment, resulting in death (imagine driving a semi after finishing a six pack, the alcohol won’t kill you but the crash will. Kinda like that).
Saturday I went on a dive trip off Anacapa Island (part of the Channel Islands off the California coast) to see a torpedo bomber (commonly known as an “Avenger”) wreck. It was a WWII plane, the one George Bush Sr. flew during the war. The plane was in 120 feet of water.
I took a giant stride into the water, flashed the “ok” sign (right hand over the right shoulder touching the top of the head) and met my group at the bow (front) of the boat. Once together, we descended. Visibility was surprising clear (for the Pacific at California) that day, 60 feet, water temperature wasn’t as pleasant, 55 degrees. Past about 50 feet, the my descent sped up and at about 90 feet I felt a head change. Falling toward the bottom, this sensation increased until at about 110 it was significant (about as subtle as swinging a bat to the back of my head).
Mind you, I’ve had some experience with the possible effects of narcosis before. In Cozumel, for instance, I went down to 128 feet in 80 degree water for the Devil’s Throat and upon my ascent, realized I had been under somewhat of an influence while at the deeper depth (a slightly euphoric feeling), but nothing like this. This was different. This was 55 degree water and this was a different day on four hours of sleep (did I mention I’m a night owl so waking up at 5 am is rather difficult to do?).
Symptoms vary. I had read about them, heard about them, guessed about them and talked to people who had experienced them, but from personal experience, I had little knowledge, until Saturday. My first sensation was muddled thought, delayed reaction time and difficulty in concentration. Eventually I could hear and feel my heartbeat. My perception of time became so distorted seconds and minutes would “bend” and “warp” becoming almost indistinguishable. I grabbed my gauge and kept a close eye on the time checking it constantly. Simple math would have been difficult. Long division or multiplication? Akin to the Theory of Relativity. Finally, at 125 feet beside the plane on the ocean floor, my vision tunneled, a circle of sight in the middle surrounded by a hazy blur and I could feel nausea setting in. This was not fun. The thrill of seeing a wreck, one of my favorite types of diving, was quickly supplanted with and easily outweighed by discomfort and anxiety (another symptom of narcosis). Had it not been for the many other divers and their possible assistance in case of emergency, I would have stopped my descent. Even still, this dive, after only 8 minutes, was over.
I headed back up, slowly of course (“ascend slowly”, one of the first rules of diving along with “never hold your breath” and “equalize early and often”). I tripled the length of my three minute safety stop and even so, could still feel the lingering effects of the nitrogen. My entire dive, from start to finish lasted only 26 minutes.
These 26 minutes were all for the good. The experience was valuable. Diving can be dangerous. It’s important that I am aware of and familiar with these possible dangers. Understanding my limits and acting accordingly not only makes me a safer diver but a better diver. Going to depths unheard of for the thrill and the bravado of it like I’ve often heard about? That would make me a stupid diver and a dead diver. Frankly, I’d rather live to dive another day….like maybe next Wednesday.
