We don’t see much diving fiction, besides maybe a few scenes from Clive Cussler novels. In The Sea on Fire, author Howard Cunnell wisely foregoes the diving-as-action approach and presents the emotion and sensation of diving that we feel through the main character, Kim. As a diver and someone who writes about diving, I was intrigued when I heard of this novel and how it would capture these feelings in words.

Kim is a man who needs to decide what he wants out of life. In his youth, Kim worked as a dive guide through many exotic locales with his buddy Garland. Now, married with kids, he yearns for those days. He works at a dead-end construction job in England, biding his time until he gets a call from Garland that they have a job, and off he goes, much to the chagrin of his wife. The latest call is a turning point for Kim. On the home front, his wife is fed up with him up-and-leaving at a moment’s notice; Kim needs to decide whether he wants to be a father and a husband or if he wants to live life on the road.

Kim is one of those characters that drives a reader nuts. He consistently makes poor decisions (how does his wife keep getting pregnant? Contraceptive, people!) which are infuriating. Despite these flaws, Kim is an excellent diver, which we are regularly shown. Cunnell presents diving as an emotional metaphor for the way Kim feels about his life. Diving is his escape. From poverty, tyrants, responsibility, and yes, even his wife. His description of diving is spot on, from the feeling when you first hit the water, to the excitement of sighting sharks. For me, this is the strongest aspect of the book.

Most of the plot revolves around Kim’s latest job, where he meets a larger-than-life character named Teddy King, and his muse Jody. Both capture Kim’s imagination. Kim enjoys his time partying and diving, but soon finds that he can’t keep his worlds separate, both physically and emotionally. King is one of those “stranger than fiction” characters you can’t believe could possibly exist, yet probably does.

Kim’s friend Garland Rain is an interesting character as well. You can find pieces of him in many old-school divers, particularly technical divers. For these people, decisions are black-and-white with no moral gray areas. Garland serves as the model man that Kim thinks he should be, although their relationship remains strained by Kim’s increasing stupidity.

In many ways The Sea on Fire is a book about Kim hammering out his personal philosophy, trying to merge competing ideas of loyalty to his wife and kids, who he loves dearly, and his passion for adventure and life on the road—with the vices that accompany it. As these worlds collide he must sort through his emotional baggage to discover who he really is. The Sea on Fire is not an action novel. There is much navel-gazing and musing in Kim’s head throughout. The plot itself is secondary to these concerns.

My main complaint is that the book tries to cover a lot of ground. Kim clearly has many issues to work through, including a dark secret from his past and his admiration for Garland, but one novel felt like not much time to work through all of them. With so many threads opened, though, it was hard to feel a sense of resolution for all of them. Maybe that’s just life.

Most people reading this are scuba divers. If you are interested in the philosophical side of diving, and diving as a way of life, then you may be interested in reading The Sea on Fire. The plot moves along, straying between different genres, but in my opinion, is secondary to to Kim’s struggle, which is verbalized via internal thoughts rather than through action. If this review seems scattered it’s probably because this novel is hard to pin down.

If you are a voracious reader, you could do worse then to add it on your reading list, although I wouldn’t recommend it for casual readers. If the diving aspects are your sole interest, despite the strong descriptions of diving, they are few and far between, so creative nonfiction like Deep Descent, may be a better place to go.

We’ve all heard by now that only 3% of the earth’s oceans have been explored. What treasures lay undiscovered in the remaining 97%? For recreational divers, this trove of wrecks and artifacts will remain outside the boundaries of our skills and training, but for many, the lure of the deep is too much to resist. Deep Descent is the story of those who succumb to this temptation—whether for the promise of unmolested china or the glory of being in an elite group of divers. In particular, the focus is on one such prize: the Andrea Doria.

The SS Andrea Doria is an Italian ocean liner that sank in the North Atlantic in 1956 after colliding with the MS Stockholm. Her topmost point rests at 160 ft, with the bottom at well over 240 ft, making diving an impossibility for the limits of scuba at the time. However, it didn’t take long before a brave few were diving the wreck, often referred to as “The Mount Everest of scuba diving.”

Deep Descent recounts their tales, beginning with the first divers shortly after her sinking all the way up to the early 2000’s. These dives were not without their setbacks, however. The book’s pages are mostly filled with the stories of divers who met their fate diving the Doria. To date, 15 divers have died on the Doria, with the most recent occurring in 2008. Dives continue to the present day, although the increasingly delapidated condition of the wreck makes uncovering artifacts a thing of the past.

The history of the Doria is an interesting one. In retrospect, the stories are frustrating as we watch otherwise capable divers behaving stupidly in the face of 3rd class dinner sets. For many of the stories, divers are still using air, which requires penetrating a dangerous wreck under the heavy influence of nitrogen narcosis. Even with the development of trimix, fatalities have continued at a steady pace, implying there are hidden dangers beyond the depth of the wreck.

I’d recommend this book for anyone interested in technical diving. If for no other reason, it serves as a reminder to respect the ocean and the unknown. The most successful divers encountered in Deep Descent are those with the sense enough to know when not to dive. It is easy to become a bit foolhardy after a lot of training and some successful dives, but this book is a useful reminder to always exercise caution, even for a recreational diver like myself.

Unfortunately, Deep Descent has its faults. For one, it tends to overreach in places. The book’s title and cover tell us what the book is about, yet the author often wanders. For example, one boat, The Seeker, is a common charter out to the famed wreck. After the original owner passes away, the book takes us through a sidetrack about the status of the boat and its new owners. Interesting to some? Maybe, but some judicious editing would’ve made for a snappier read.

Another shortcoming is the lack of a central narrative through the book. We go from story to story, which are often told in a matter-of-fact, history book style that is sometimes cumbersome. The author tries hard to avoid making anyone out to be a villain. While I respect this stance, it makes it harder to get sucked in to any story.

The author, Kevin McMurray, is a tec diver who has dove the Andrea Doria several times. He is at his best when he switches to a first-person description of his dives. My favorite chapter is probably his description of diving the Doria for the first time.

For those interested in wreck diving, technical diving, or the Andrea Doria, Deep Descent is a recommended read. The casual recreational diver may not find the contents as interesting.

I’m going back to Bonaire in a few weeks to complete my PADI divemaster training. Along with all my gear, one thing I’ll be taking is the book Bonaire Shore Diving Made Easy (BSDME).

BSDME is a small book describing 75 dive sites in Bonaire. Officially, there are 63 dive sites in Bonaire (not counting Klein), so the book more than adequately covers most diving spots. In particular, it shares the easiest entry and exit points. This can be a huge time saver for shore dives, where rocks and waves make entry and exit challenging.

BSDME also gives a brief description of the dive site, including slopes and formations that are helpful for planning dives. Sometimes it will indicate what type of marine life to expect on a particular site, and where to look for it. There are no pictures in BSDME, if that’s what you are expecting. This page on the book’s website gives a sample for the Andrea II dive site. Expect 75 of those, nothing more, nothing less.

73, actually. As of 2009, the Town Pier and Salt Pier sites were closed to the public after structural damage from Hurricane Omar. The 5th edition of BSDME still has these sites listed, so they may be removed from future editions.

Most dive shops in Bonaire have a copy of this book lying around for customer perusal. However, I recommend picking up your own copy to keep with you. It’s fairly inexpensive, and is a handy reference for dive planning the night before, and especially while at dive sites when on-the-fly adjustments are required.