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I'm sorry for the delay in posting the details of this horror story, but
I just managed to get back from La Paz tonight. My inclination was to
wait until tomorrow to post, but I see that Ray has pretty much covered
it. So maybe it would be best if I just try to get it off my chest and
add a bit to Ray's account before trying to catch up on sleep. I'll
probably read my post in the morning and decide I should have waited
until I was fresh, but somehow I just want to get some closure on this
thing, and thinking about what I should say to the list has occupied a
lot of my spare moments in the past three days

As Ray said, it was truly a wonderful trip until the last hour of diving
turned it into my worst nightmare. My ears had just clogged up so that I
couldn't get past 15 feet without pain, so I decided to call it a trip
and waved to Toto, the panga driver. Toto said that he saw Rich dive just
as he left to come pick up Ray and I. Of course we don't know whether he
may have come up and gone back down several times after that because no
one was really looking that closely. Ray and I took our time pulling in
our floats and stowing our gear, and then while we motored the couple of
hundred yards toward Rich's float we were looking for him. By the time we
reached the float, it was obvious that he had been out of sight far
longer than any possible dive. Toto jumped in and started swimming around
looking, and I got my stuff back on and followed. While I assumed that
even the slightest of currents would have carried the float away from
Rich, I started by swimming to the float. I saw his gun hanging at the
end of the 50' float line, which seemed perfectly normal. But then I saw
that the gun had been fired, and after a few seconds realized that it
should have been floating on the surface if it didn't have the shaft in
it, so something must be holding it down. When I concentrated on looking
at the dimly visible bottom, I saw a suspicious dark spot. Rich was
wearing a black skin suit and black Esclapez fins, so I dove to get a
better look. When I got down a ways, I could clearly see him kneeling on
the bottom with his head and arms out of sight under a ledge. I can't
begin to tell you what a chilling sight that was. I considered that
broken ear drums or even another round window rupture were nothing
compared to the life of one of my best friends, but then realized that I
couldn't dive that deep in the first place and would probably just add
another body if I tried, so I surfaced and shouted for Toto.

After attempting CPR without getting a pulse, we started the hour trip
home. It was a long hour.

On the way home from the airport tonight, I stopped by and delivered Rich
and his gear to Dee. While my loss pales compares to hers, she seems to
have more strength than I do right now. I just can't get some very
horrible images out of my mind, but her faith and fortitude are truly an
inspiration.

Ray mentioned the support we received from Andrea Tomba and James Curtis,
the owners of the Cortez Club, along with Margo Davis, their office
manager and general "woman who holds it all together," but I feel
compelled to elaborate. These people not only run a wonderful dive
operation, but exemplify what being a human being is all about. Andrea
spent until 1 AM on the night of the death walking me through various
government offices getting things done. Mexican law requires that a
relative must come down to sign for release of the body, but Andrea was
able to get that requirement waived so that I could sign. He was out with
me the next night until 11 PM, as well as countless hours during the day.
These people were running a very busy and successful business, but found
the time to reach out and help me when I would have been damn near
helpless on my own. Margo provided some great ideas when I wasn't
thinking too clearly, and also provided a wonderful shoulder to cry on,
and that shoulder was needed often. They made countless expensive phone
calls to the states and wouldn't let me reimburse them. I could fill your
hard drives with examples of their warmth and generosity, but I guess I
better stop by saying that if there was a silver lining to this darkest
cloud in my life, it was that I touched by two people who restored my
faith in humanity, and I'll be forever in their debt.

Upon reading the foregoing, I realize I've written more about me than
about Rich. If there is any justification at all for being so
self-centered, it may be that I'm trying to make you consider what the
effect may be on your friends if you take unnecessary risks. He was a
great friend, and I'm hurting like hell right now. I'm sure you have
friends who would feel the same way about you. No fish is worth your
life.

We'll never know what really caused this death. It certainly wasn't the
classic shallow-water-blackout case, as he seems to have died in place
with no ascent. He doesn't seem to have been held down by a line tangle
as Toto says he was able to quickly unwrap the single wrap of line around
his hand. And while we were doing CPR, Toto's assistant pulled up the gun
and shaft with no problem. I don't mean to say that Rich was being
reckless, but I do mean to remind everyone what the consequences of
recklessness can be. Whenever I'm tempted to try to measure up to someone
else's standards of diving, my cop out is to say to myself "well shit,
but has he landed on an aircraft carrier or flown at Mach 2.1?" You may
not have done those particular things, but you have unique strengths and
abilities. Be happy with yourself, and don't try to beat someone else on
his home court.

Sorry for the cheap sermon and homespun psychology, but I just lost one
of my best friends and diving buddies, and its worse than I could have
imagined.

If anyone wants to call or email with questions, I'll do my best to
answer.

The memorial service is at 11 AM Friday at the church mentioned by Ray.
I'll post the address tomorrow.