Project Quick Find

by Michael P. Wood

  This now meant that both animals would need to be trained to board the sixteen-foot Boston Whaler, enter the whaler cages, and tolerate a bumpier ride than what they were used to on the thirty-six-foot work barge. The whaler towed the Z-bird behind to use as a workboat and served as the support platform. We decided to train in the waters next to the NUC piers, which was about a thirty-minute boat transit for the animals. The water visibility there was a good ten feet, if not better, and the water depth was between twenty and thirty feet, depending on where we placed the mine target. This is where we conducted the majority of the mine search and marking training. The clearer and deeper waters did help the sea lions to locate the pinger noise, and it gave them greater visibility range to see the target and maneuver to the correct position on the mine shape. The training continued here for a few months until we were confident the animals were consistently locating and marking the mine shape in at least thirty feet of water and that they were weaned off the attached tether line. Removing the tether line is always a nervous time because the animal is able to take off if desired. Hopefully, the previous tether line conditioning would make them think they couldn’t swim away. Removing the tether line also simplified rubber boat operations because there was only need for tending one reel of line instead of the two: one reel for the animal and one reel for the grabber device.

  The next step was to take the sea lions into gradually deeper water. This was problematic because the sixteen-foot whaler was not made for going out to sea. Now we needed to coordinate schedules for use of the thirty-six-foot work barge so we could take the sea lions first out to the Zuniga Point area, which was just at the end of the San Diego Bay rock jetty where we could still have calmer waters but achieve at least sixty feet of water depth. It was around this time that we had our first catastrophe when Sinbad died. I do not remember what was the cause of death, but I do know it was not heartworms. I had become very attached to Sinbad but had to overcome that and continue the training with Papillion, who fortunately was progressing very well. My memory is a little shaky here, but I believe we were also getting Scooner trained in the mine project at this time, so we still had two mine project sea lions. The next minor catastrophe occurred due to a momentary lapse in human judgment. All this time we were emplacing the mine shape into various depths of water, I would always free dive to the bottom to make sure the target was placed correctly on the bottom. It could really confuse the animals if the target landed vertically instead of horizontally on the bottom and could invalidate a whole day of training.

  The tether line is connected to the sea lion’s body harness, and there is another tether line connected to the grabber device, requiring a total of two tether lines. Right: There is only one tether line that is connected to the grabber. The sea lion is free of any tether line.

  Up until this time, my free diving to check the target was easy in the ten to thirty feet of water, regardless of visibility, because I just followed the anchor line down. Now that we were training at Zuniga Point, where the water was colder and deeper, it meant putting on a wetsuit and donning full dive gear to go to the bottom and check the target. The first couple of times I used dive gear and a wetsuit to check the target. Then I ditched the gear but kept the wetsuit and free dived sixty feet down to check the target. Free diving worked okay to sixty feet. It was a little tiring and strenuous, but luckily all I had to do was check the target and not move it, then surface. My previous experience of spear fishing and free diving came in handy. Then a “brain fart” occurred to me. Why not ditch the wetsuit and ride an anchor down to the bottom to conserve air and energy to check the target? The second brilliant idea came to me to do this new target checking method when our QF officer-in-charge (OIC) came out to sea with us for the first time to check on the status of the mine training. I was confident in my lung and free-diving capacity, so why not do it when the OIC was there? Nothing would be different. We drove the barge to the Zuniga Point training area and dropped the weighted mine target over the side. The wind and sea conditions were calm, so it was easy for the barge to maintain station over the target. Then one of the guys lowered the barge’s thirty-five-pound Danforth anchor over the bow of the barge and held it there until I entered the water with my fins and facemask. The task was simple: ride the anchor down to sixty feet, conserve air and energy, check out the target, and swim back to the surface. Easy! Once I was ready and gripping the anchor line, they released the anchor, and down I went, clearing my ears quickly as I descended. No problems so far. The anchor hit the bottom near the target, but suddenly there was an overwhelming cold feeling in my chest, and it seemed like someone had taken a vacuum cleaner and sucked all the air out of my lungs. Suddenly, on the bottom, I realized I had zero air left in my lungs and I was craving air. Luckily, I was able to remain calm and swim back up the anchor line as my chest began to convulse for more air. There was a slight relief as I neared the surface, but I seemed to get dizzy. I reached the surface and began a loud gasp for air, and everyone on board knew there was a problem. They also saw that I was bleeding from my nose. They helped me out of the water, and my main consuming thought was how I had so brilliantly impressed the OIC with my performance. Not! They did a quick neurological check, which I cleared, but the nose bleed and coldness in my chest were major concerns. They loaded me into the support boat and drove me to the recompression chamber at Point Loma for a diving medical officer check. Apparently, I did not suffer any embolism or decompression sickness mainly because I had not been breathing on compressed air at depth. The assessment was the combination of existing chest or nasal congestion, combined with the rapid descent, had caused the bleeding and loss of air at depth. Recovery took a couple of weeks and was similar to recovering from pneumonia. I could still train naïve animal behaviors back at the base, but I was not able to go to sea for a while.

  It was fortunate that Papillion’s and Scooner’s mine training at sea continued, and eventually we demonstrated the mine shape search and marking in one hundred feet of sea water, indicating that the sea lions could very much be the marine mammal of choice for more advanced mine detection, search, marking, and recovery, if required. There was no word from the navy about whether the sea lions would get the mine recovery mission or not, so there was not any further advanced development of tactics, techniques, procedures, mine targets, or marking equipment for the sea lions. We continued the mine training to maintain the sea lion behaviors, and we continued the basic training of naïve animals.

  I had served at Project Quick Find from 1972 to 1977. I managed to get advanced to photographer’s mate first class in the process. This was not an easy task since I never worked in my rate other than my own personal interest in photography.

  My dive buddy John Busch and I display our large catch of sheepshead fish speared on the gunnery range side of San Clemente Island.

  I don my wetsuit in preparation for underwater photography of the Quick Find sea lions training at San Clemente Island.

  I assist with placing the mock ASROC target in the water from the work barge.

  While a trainer with Quick Find, I was able to work with famous underwater photographers, as seen in the far left and far right photos. In the middle photo, I am preparing my own underwater gear for filming at San Clemente Island.

  My photojournalism hero Chip Maury, who was instrumental in helping me get accepted to the military photojournalism program and Syracuse University Newhouse School of Communications.

  Throughout my time at Quick Find, I did get a chance to work with many journalists, photographers, photojournalists, and film production crews. Also timely was that the navy was looking for photographers or journalists to submit portfolios for the military photojournalism program at Syracuse University, Newhouse School of Communications. It would be a one-year program, and it would provide a certificate of completion in military photojournalism, about six credits shy of a bachelor’s degree. I knew my marine mammal training time was coming to an end, and I was very excited
about applying for this program. As with life, not all things go according to plan. My first portfolio submission was not accepted, but I was fortunate that the navy was still interested in my application, so they provided a former photojournalism graduate to help me with my next portfolio submission. I was also fortunate to have the help of a famous operator and photographer of SEALs, Chip Maury, who was then the photo editor for the Providence Journal newspaper. With their help, combined with my Project Quick Find photo story and portfolio, I was accepted into the photojournalism program at Syracuse University. How can one be so blessed to be able to go from one passion to another three times in a row, from SEAL operator, to sea lion trainer, to navy photojournalist? Coincidence, maybe, but more than likely, divine providence.

  Professor Fred Demarest, chairman of the Syracuse Photography Department, critiques photographs of military students.

  9

  DOG AND PONY SHOWS

  The “dog and pony” show was our endearing term for the many sea lion demonstrations we would have to give to visiting dignitaries, whether military, civilian, or politician. We also provided demonstrations for a multitude of print and news media, with occasional requests from film production companies. Add to that the strong interest from friends and families of each of our trainers, and it seemed as if it was a never-ending story.

  The easiest dog and pony show was for our friends and families.

  This usually meant whoever had the weekend animal watch would take the friends or family members down to the pier and show them how we cleaned the cages, isolated the animals into each of their individual pens with tubs, and gave them vitamins and the feeding regimen. While the working animals were feeding, we would usually break out Gump, the female sea lion, and put her through basic circus-like behaviors, including holding a bucket of fish in her mouth without eating the fish. The most popular was having Gump either kiss the trainer’s cheek or salute the trainer. Occasionally, we would let her loose in the water by the pier to show how the animals were free to leave if they wanted, but they always returned for their fish. This releasing demonstration would later prove to be faulty overconfidence.

  One time I did have my mom, Patricia Wood, visit Quick Find when we were still located on Pier 13. I took her down to the pens and showed her the same process I mentioned above. The one behavior she became totally enamored with was when Gump would keep giving me a kiss on the cheek. My mom was absolutely convinced that Gump “loved” me. I tried to explain to her that this was anthropomorphism, or attribution of human characteristics to an animal. “No, no, no, she loves you, I can tell!” I had to tell her to just watch how much the animals loved me after they had eaten, had a full belly, and were released out of their pens and back into the pool for socializing. I took Gump back to the pens and fed her. She was the last to eat, so when she was finished, I released all the animals from their individual pens into the common deck and pool area. I attempted to get Gump’s attention and have her kiss me or salute me. I did not try this with Fatman. Sure enough, I can only imagine that Gump thought I had been smoking dope or something. She wasn’t about to perform without a fish reward. She must have thought I was nuts. Now I was the one anthropomorphizing. Stated a little more accurately, Gump totally ignored me and would not give me the time of day. She went back into the pool.

  The original Quick Find team members gather with their sea lions on the work barge for Bill Barrada, who was doing a story about the program for Skin Diver magazine.

  I demonstrate the hand salute with my favorite sea lion, Sinbad, during one of many exhibitions for family and friends.

  My mom, Patricia Wood.

  Another family and friend demonstration involved bringing Sinbad out of the pen and onto the work barge where we had a dressing stand. I wanted to show my friends and family how this former naïve volunteer animal was progressing into a working animal. I harnessed Sinbad on the dressing stand and had him hold a grabber device. I hooked up a reel of line and let Sinbad jump off the barge into the water and come back to the stand for a fish reward, which he did without my having to pull on the tether line. Here’s where my confidence in Sinbad got me in trouble. I decided to remove the line from Sinbad’s harness and let him go into the water near the piers. I had another trainer there helping me with this demonstration. Much to my disappointment, Sinbad would not return to the barge, much less the dressing stand. I felt my face well up with embarrassment. I kept slapping on the dressing stand and showing Sinbad his fish reward. About thirty minutes later, when Sinbad still would not return to the barge, I decided to lure him with fish into the community pool. This involved putting all the other animals back into their individual pens, which they did not appreciate. Then I had to deal with difficult-to-remove staples from the top of the pool netting to drop one corner of the net into the water so I could lure Sinbad into the pool. Eureka! That idea worked, and Sinbad swam into the pool for a fish reward while still wearing his harness.

  Sometimes it seemed we should change the name to Project Quick Find Demonstration Team. On the left, I have Sinbad give me a kiss on the cheek for an audience of family and friends. On the right, I show a group of VIPs how Sinbad would mount the dressing stand and hold the D8 grabber device on his nose.

  My associate quickly pulled up and reattached the top of the pool net, and now Sinbad was at least back in the pen. It had been quite a long time, so I told all the visitors it would be best that they leave. I could not leave Sinbad in the pool wearing his harness. We were always concerned that some part of the harness would catch on the bottom of the net and the sea lion could not surface and would drown. I had to get him out of the pool. I still had some confidence in Sinbad’s responsiveness to commands. Again, I slapped the dressing stand in the pen signaling Sinbad to come out of the water and mount the stand. I tried that several times with no response from the now very stubborn Sinbad. I even put fish near the deck edge of the pool entrance, to no avail. I had two options left, one of which I really did not want to use, and that was a hoop net to lift him out of the water. The second idea was to have my associate lure Sinbad with fish in the water to the pool entrance. I would climb along the pool’s inside deck walkway and, with one hand for support and leverage on the fence, would lean over and grab the top strap of Sinbad’s harness and pull him out of the water. This, I thought, was the better of the two plans. Well, it worked exactly as I had planned. Sinbad was distracted by the fish reward, and I was able to grab his harness and pull him up and out of the water. He was not that heavy, so it was easy enough to do. Here is where the plan deviated due to some things I hadn’t thought of, such as how was I going to edge my way along the inside of the pool back to the fence opening when I had a sea lion in one hand and my other hand providing support and gripping on the fence. The other thing I did not think of was how Sinbad was going to react to this entirely new behavioral event. I’ll tell you how: he reacted just like any wild animal would react when surprised and threatened. As I was gripping one hand on the fence and one holding Sinbad, he decided to make a meal out of my wrist and forearm and began to bite the crap out of my skinny arm with his canines. I could not let Sinbad go, so I let him keep biting my arm, with blood now spurting out. I yelled to my fellow trainer to grab Sinbad from me and put him on the deck. “No way!” he yelled and left the pen area, leaving me alone with this wild animal munching on my arm. The only option I had left was to swing Sinbad back and forth in the air and try to throw him through the gate opening onto the pen deck, hoping I could get out of the cage quick enough to close the gate before he slipped back into the water. Luckily for me, that plan did work. I threw Sinbad onto the pen deck, climbed out of the inside pool fence decking, and closed the cage door in time. Now Sinbad was huffing and puffing while waddling around the deck barking. I let him settle down and once again patted the dressing stand, and Sinbad jumped right up onto the stand and let me unharness him without any further problems. I opened the pool gate, let all the other sea lions out of their
pens, and all was back to normal in the sea lion world. It was not until I left the pen and locked the pen door that I started to feel the shock and adrenalin of the situation. I did take that time to yell at my trainer associate for being a wimp and abandoning me in the cage. I never forgave or trusted him again. Yes, the situation was my fault, but he could have helped. Definitely a learning experience for me, especially after going through the thirteen stitches they had to put in my arm at the base dispensary. The stitches weren’t bad; it was the cleaning of the wound with antiseptic and the tetanus shot pain that forever placed this incident into my memory banks.

  The floating pen at San Clemente Island, with the animals swimming in the community pool.

  Tom McHugh prepares a harness at the floating pen in Coronado to let the animals out of the community pool.

  Other easier demonstrations usually occurred on QAST shots when TV and print media folks would show up to write and film about this unique sea lion missile recovery program. Gordy Sybrant usually handled these media events on a QAST shot, but if one of our officers was traveling with us, they were sure to be involved in the media presentation. Gordy just wanted to do it to make sure the media folks were getting accurate information and not exaggerating any of their stories. The officer was usually involved for the media exposure. These QAST shot demonstrations generally never involved any circus-like performance from the animals for a couple of good reasons. One was we did not want the media to think these were circus animals.