Читать книгу Under Pressure. Living Life and Avoiding Death on a Nuclear Submarine онлайн

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Slowly I started to rise, but this time I was really struggling to breathe out – the natural bodily response is of course to hold your breath. I got halfway up and a second instructor who’d been hiding in another diving bell came out to meet me and jabbed his outstretched hand into my rib cage to make sure I was exhaling. I clocked the depth gauges as I ascended, and I realised how deep this actually was. I had to regulate the blow, as I felt I was running out of capacity, but eventually I breached the surface, relieved I’d made it through unscathed.

The final part of these two days of hell was an ascent from 100 feet, with a simulated evacuation from a replica submarine escape tower. This involved climbing into a tiny compartment beneath the 100-foot tower in a hooded pressure suit. I clambered in, having only half-listened to the instructor, overcome by an adrenaline rush and heart palpitations. I couldn’t yet vote, I was about the age at which I could learn to drive, yet it felt like I was putting my life in completely unnecessary danger, as if I’d sleepwalked into this nightmare in the hands of total strangers. The tower closed shut behind me and I was stuck in a minuscule space that was about to be flooded. I guessed that they were checking for signs of claustrophobia and stress, and I saw there was an implement for me to start banging on the pipes with if I couldn’t hack it. Pleasant thought.