In-Depth Education

At first glance, the scene looks like a photo shoot for another one of those get-’em-talking Abercrombie & Fitch catalogs: a dozen fresh-faced young men in sleek wetsuits standing harbor-side, muscles rippling, tattoos in plain sight.

Except this isn’t a photo shoot.

It’s college, the College of Oceaneering in Wilmington. And the guys in wetsuits aren’t models, they’re commercial diving students.

For the first time in its 31-year history, the college will host an open house, on Wednesday. It’s a chance for those interested in the commercial diving field to see the campus--it’s not Princeton, though there are a lot of cute guys with short haircuts--and to watch the students, most of whom are men in their 20s, many with military backgrounds, in action.

“Most people don’t know what commercial diving is,” said Jim Sparks, director of admissions and marketing. “Very few people have heard of this school.”

And most will be surprised to learn that not only do students not have to be able to scuba dive, they don’t even have to know how to swim. “They are tethered to an ‘umbilical cord,’ plus a conduit containing two-way communication wires, and an air hose,” said Sparks, “and they are tied to topside at all times.” The one or two nonswimmers that have come through the school, he said, learned to swim before graduating.

Students spend 50 weeks--and nearly $16,000 in tuition-- training for high-risk careers in the offshore oil and gas extraction trades, jobs that could require them to lay or inspect pipe on the sea floor; to wield flaming, 10,000-degree torches underwater; or to specialize in emergency medical procedures such as operating hyperbaric chambers in the event of decompression sickness.

Among the projects students must complete before graduating is working at an underwater depth of 50-55 feet constructing a 28-foot-high, 40-foot-wide pipe configuration lovingly known as “Darth Vader.” Some of its components weigh more than 1,000 pounds. After the structure is built, it’s tested for airtightness, then torn apart, its components coming to rest on the ocean floor, awaiting the next class.

Tom Mix, an instructor at the college with 33 years of diving experience, said the students who thrive possess “a can-do kind of attitude . . . someone who likes adventure, living on the edge, and the outdoors.”

And someone who doesn’t mind a nontraditional lifestyle.

“You spend a lot of time on barges and boats,” said Mix. “You don’t get to come home every night. But you have more than the usual time off.”

And for many, the pay is another incentive. Sparks said that most graduates will spend up to three years as “tenders,” earning about $35,000 a year, “and that’s with lots of overtime.” When tenders “break out” and become full-fledged divers, he said, they earn risk pay commensurate with the depths of their dives--ranging from $50,000 to $75,000 a year.

“The attention to detail that is necessary is much higher than normal,” said Mix. “Any little mistake can cost your life.”

For this reason, safety is a key component of the curriculum. Students learn hyperbaric chamber operations and participate in simulated rescues. The atmosphere is somewhat like boot camp, right down to the gruff instructors.

“I don’t want to hear any of this ‘Roger bull----,” instructor Bob Cave shouts to his Harbor Class during a frantic simulated rescue with the suspense of a scene from ER. “If you guys like doing push-ups, I’ll teach you not to say ‘Roger’ anymore.”

“I guess he doesn’t want to hear CB talk,” said Sparks.

Cave, 55, spent 35 years as a Navy diver and, at one point, held a depth record for his work in and outside of a diving bell at 1,010 feet. (“Now those guys make the money,” said Sparks of the most experienced, deepest divers. “They’ll make $500 to $1,500 a day.”)

Though great emphasis is put on averting underwater disaster, students don’t seem especially fearful.

“It’s just plain fun,” said Adam Hughes, 23, a student from Maine. “You don’t really think about it.”

Inevitably, some students don’t make it. Sparks said the dropout rate is about 30%, and most pack it in within the first five weeks.

Dedra LaSauce, a 34-year-old Florida native, is among the tough ones. Like many of the college’s students, she has a military background: 15 years in the Army. LaSauce is also one of the few female students in the program. (Fewer than 20 of the 330 are women.) She chose commercial diving for the adventure.

“I didn’t want to stay with what I knew,” said LaSauce. “That’s boring. I wanted to do something that would challenge me and that’s very physical.”

She found it, in underwater welding. “I’m more exhausted at the end of the day than I ever was. Spending three hours underwater welding while it’s cold burns up an incredible amount of energy. But time goes by fast. I love it. I’d rather cut and burn underwater than eat.”

It’s not always easy for women to function in an atmosphere that has been described as “testosterone city.”

“It might be an issue at first,” said LaSauce. They [the men] look at you like, ‘You’re coming into my world.’ You really need to prove yourself.”

When she graduates April 24, she’s off to Louisiana to work for a company called Epic Divers. Most of her classmates have jobs lined up as well. The placement rate, according to the school, is a whopping 96%. (For the degree conscious, diving students can combine their credits with 30 general education credits from another accredited institution for an associate of sciences degree in marine technology.)

Of course, most of those jobs involve 12-hour days and seven-day workweeks . . . without Starbucks or speed dials. No wonder instructor Mix, speaking about the general public, jokes, “about 98% shouldn’t go into diving.”

*

Wednesday’s open house at the College of Oceaneering, 272 S. Fries Ave., Wilmington, runs from 8 a.m. to noon and from 1-3 p.m. For reservations, which are required, call (310) 834-2501 or 800-432-DIVE. Web site: https://www.diveco.com.