NOTE: This day was every boater's nightmare. I have been diving for over 40 years and am very comfortable in the water. THIS was one of the three most dangerous days I have ever had while diving. 06/15 Position:34 01.6N 135 41.1N ( as of 6/16) COG 040M SOG - 6.6 kts Wind - 330M/12 kts (It has been as high as 18 kts today in gusts.) Seas - out of the NW at 6' to 8' It has not been a comfortable ride today with mosly beam seas. We altered course to Coos Bay (via 36N 132W) per the weather router. I long for the boring calm days when absolutely nothing happens. Unfortuately, I think that those days are behind us. Today was a day with a huge potential for disaster and we got through it with flying colors. This morning, a little after 5 AM, I woke up very badly. The door to the engine room is right next to my bed. When the engine bogged down, loaded up, and changed pitch, I was on my feet in an instant. Five seconds later, I had a pair of shorts on and hearing protectors. I was in the engine room looking at the shaft and the stuffing box confirming what I already knew: the prop was fouled and bogging the engine down. Chris was on watch and became aware of the problem while I was getting dressed. He pulled power on the engine, but didn't know what else to do. I ran up to the pilot house and put the engine in nuetral, hoping that the problem was no worse than the other day. Because the seas were much rougher and colder, I went below and got into one of my wet suits. Then I ran up to the boat deck, grabbed my fins, mask and the other Spare Air that was still full. By this time, Rick was waking up and wondering what was wrong. Because we were still in the twilight of dawn, I took a dive light down with me. As soon as I jumped in the water, my worst fears were confirmed: a huge clump of net and rope was wrapped around the prop and shaft, so much so that you could barely see the prop from the front side. I immediately swam back to the swim platform and exited the water. I told Rick and Chris that the Spare Air would not do it. I had to have complete dive gear. Chris and I ran around gathering up all of my gear and assembling it in the saloon. This took about half an hour. Carrying the tank down from the fly bridge in stiff seas with no way on was very dangerous. I knew things were not going well when the first tank I brought down had lost its 'O' ring which keeps air from leaking out of the seal between the regulator and the tank. Rick mostly watched and helped where he could. Chris and I discussed details to make this as safe as possible. I chose to go with very heavy weights, 25 pounds worth of weights, ten pounds more than normal. This proved to be both a good thing and a bad thing. With six to eight foot seas, I was worried about the boat slamming down on top of me as it pitched and rolled. More weight would allow me to sink with the boat instead of getting hit over the head with it. I got a special line cutting knife I had recently bought with a serrated edge for cutting line. We set up the man overboard tackle at the side door to help me get in the boat. With six foot pitching seas, the swim platform becomes a death trap that could kill if it came down on top of you. An hour after we stopped the boat, I went back into the water with full dive gear on. Getting under the stern of the boat, I grabbed tightly to the fouled netting and began sawing away at the lines. I quickly realized that the knife I was using was golden. No other knife would be able to penetrate the massive tangle of lines that was wound around the prop. I worked for about twenty minutes sawing away at the mass of net and rope which had stopped us dead in the water. Suddenly, my mouth filled with water. To get a little water in your mouth while diving is not unusual and there are procedures to deal with it. I pushed out away from the boat and did the first of these procedures: I blew out through the regulator to clear the water out. Immediately, my mouth filled with water again,. So I did the next procedure: I reached up to push the purge valve on my secondary stage to use tank air to clear out the regulator. Only one problem with pushing the purge valve, there was no regulator. All I was left with was the mouth piece still between my lips. About this time, my brain and my body began having a conversation: Brain: "Well this is another fine pickle you've gotten me into! This is the same situation Sandi got into when she drowned and almost died. Is it time for panic yet?" Body: "No don't worry. I've still got breath. I'll just swim up to the boat." Brain: "You mean THAT boat way up there? While you were talking, all of that weight you have on you made you SINK. The surface must be more than ten feet away now. Are you ready for the adrenaline, yet?" Body: "No, I can still make it, I'll just kick with my fins." Brain: "Well, you're not doing anything. With all that weight, you're barely maintaining ten feet, not going up. Here comes the adrenaline." Body: "Listen Brain, I don't have the energy for adrenaline. All I have to do is press the inflator valve on my bouyancy vest. Here we go!" Needless to say, after all that I was exhausted when I got back to the boat. Rick and Chris literally had to haul me back to the boat by the safety line while I tried to keep from inhaling water from the waves breaking over my head. Getting into and out of the boat in all that gear was eating up my energy as much as anything else. I collapsed in the saloon, soaking the rug, the chair and everything else. I sat there for twenty minutes trying to get my energy back and my courage up to get in the water again. I repaired the regulator and made up a line to tie the knife to my wrist, one I could get out of in case it got tangled. I feared the thought of going under the boat again, but we were disabled 800 miles from land. I jumped back in the water and started sawing on the net. In about five minutes, the line tied to the knife slipped off my hand. I pulled back from the mess and reattached in over my wrist, only to find that there was nothing on the other end! Looking down, I could see the "special" knife spiraling down to Davy Jones Locker. For a brief second, I thought about going after it. But I really wanted to say what Bill Paxton's character, Hudson, on the movie "Aliens" said, "GREAT, JUST GREAT! NOW WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?" I climbed back into the boat and collapsed in the saloon again while Rick scoured the boat looking for some other cutting tool that would work. He found a leatherman jack knife that had a serrated blade on it. Rick asked me if I though putting the boat into gear would help. I said that would be the worst thing that could happen. It would undo all of my work and wrap the loose netting even tighter. Finally, I worked my courage and energy up again to go back in the water again. I sawed away at the mass for another twenty minutes while riding a roller coaster under the boat. I began making some progress. I managed to free most of the lose mass (about half of the total) from around the prop and pushed it away in a large cloud of rope and net. The other half was wound concrete tight around the shaft in a three inch thick bulk. I sawed all the way through the mass at one point but it wouldn't bulge. I realized that I was going to have to take it apart in sections, but I had no more energy. I surfaced and Rick and Chris pulled me in and helped me into the boat. Again, I collapsed into the chair in the saloon. I had to balance what I had left inside me with safety. I told the crew that I didn't think I could get all of the line off the prop. I could get a large portion of it, but some of it was just too tightly wound around the shaft. I also told Rick to try putting the boat in gear. Most of the loose stuff was off and the tight stuff couldn't get wound any more tightly. Rick ran it in forward and reverse a few times while I rested. He said that he thought we could limp in at a lower power setting. He said, "That stuff is all around us out here. There is a huge patch of it just off the starboard side of the boat." "Yah," was all I could manage as I got up and steeled myself for another trip into the water, my FIFTH. As soon as I got below the surface, I realized that the large patch of net Rick had seen was the stuff from around our prop! If I could yell under water, I would have. I took a few minutes clearing the last remnant of net from around the shaft and then surfaced. Apparently, putting the engine in gear had broken the tangle where I had sawed through it but could not remove it. I was beat up and exhasted. I had half a dozen cuts and abrasions on my hands and only enough energy to shower and collapse in bed. The boat had been disabled for three hours and I had been in the water for five dangerous dives. The boat fared little better. The interior was trashed from rough seas and a wet diver. At least one of the crew had gotten sea sick as the boat flopped around. But we are SAFE and on our way unencumbered again. Other things today: We shut the engine down to check the oil in both the engine and the transmission. Chris got very nervous after the incident this morning until he heard the smooth rumble of the big diesel as I started it again. Also: rough seas, gray skys, getting cooler, passed a 752' freighter, and to top it all off, Susan says that there is a gale waiting for us just outside San Francisco {Piece of cake compared to today!). We have altered course for Coos Bay, Oregon. Jean - Forget flashlights! Knives are my new thing. Rick, Chris, and thankfully Phil