thedrifter
03-10-08, 08:45 AM
In Guantanamo Waters, Scuba Inspires Wounded Soldiers (Update1)
By Nadja Brandt
March 10 (Bloomberg) -- Lance Corporal Josh Bleill of the U.S. Marine Corps is scuba-diving next to me in the balmy waters around Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.
He's missing both his legs, yet he glides quickly and effortlessly, propelling himself with the help of special webbed gloves, stopping to point at a giant ray on the ocean floor.
Above us on the surface are the dark forms of Viper speed boats carrying U.S. Coast Guard personnel equipped with .50- caliber machine guns. They patrol the perimeter of our dive site.
This is no Caribbean holiday. Bleill, 30, is a former lacrosse player for Purdue University who lost his legs in 2006 in Fallujah, Iraq. He's one of six unusual divers at an unlikely scuba destination.
``Nobody is allowed to dive in Guantanamo unless they are stationed here,'' says John Thompson, founder of Soldiers Undertaking Disabled Scuba.
Thompson, 42, started SUDS in February 2007 to teach wounded soldiers how to dive back into life. With the help of Harvey Naranjo, sports and activities coordinator at Washington-based Walter Reed Army Medical Center, and several of his volunteering friends, he teaches wounded soldiers diving skills in the center's aquatic-therapy pool. Guantanamo Bay is his first trip to give students the chance to complete the four open-water dives they need for scuba certification.
``The first day we saw a lobster, a turtle and a green eel,'' says Bleill, whose battle injuries also included a broken pelvis, a lacerated kidney and a broken jaw and nose.
Mobility, Freedom
``Weightlessness is cool,'' Bleill says. ``Being in the middle of nowhere with all these things around you. As an amputee you have that mobility and freedom under water that you just don't have on land.''
On the shore, a seemingly endless barbed-wire fence separates the military base from the rest of the island. The hillsides are studded with watchtowers and other strategic installations that are strictly off limits to our cameras.
Underwater, healthy coral reefs boast bright-orange elephant ear sponges, masses of brain coral and 2-foot-wide sea fans. The reefs are home to an array of colorful fish and other sea critters. The water is a saturated blue.
``We don't have any anchoring or pollution damage,'' Thompson says. ``That makes it all very pristine.''
Shane Heath, a 28-year-old Army sergeant, is zipping past me, propelled by an underwater scooter attached to the remains of his amputated arm while he keeps his balance with his one healthy leg.
``I read in magazines that there were some of the most beautiful dive sites in the world here before it was closed off,'' Heath says later. ``To be able to come down here and see some of these sites is a tremendous honor.''
Convoy of Vans
In order to reach today's dive spot at a narrow, typically closed-off beach, we have to drive our convoy of vans over rocky dirt roads that wind among ammunition bunkers, watch towers and fields of cacti. We can see the fences of one of the nearby detention camps.
``This just isn't your everyday dive spot,'' says instructor Jay Freebery.
Several dozen volunteers of Guantanamo's Joint Task Force, including marines and members of the Army, Navy and the Federal Bureau of Investigation, are here today to help the wounded soldiers. They schlep the gear and tanks and aid divers in donning their equipment.
Pat and Patrick Duffy, a father and son who run the Chatham Bay Foundation marine conservancy in Philadelphia, and Freebery have traveled here to help teach the students diving skills. Disabled Sports USA provided some of the financial support for this trip.
Feeling Graceful
More than 50 other wounded soldiers are waiting to join one of Thompson's future trips. Every two weeks, six new candidates sign up for his scuba program at Walter Reed.
``One of the great things about diving is how graceful I feel underwater,'' says Aaron Schoenfeld, 26, a lance corporal with the U.S. Marine Corps who lost one of his legs in a state- side accident in 2001. ``It's just something that's not possible on land.''
Schoenfeld notes that ``having a prosthetic leg is tough on the body. You put a lot of extra stress on joints and bones that normal people just don't have to deal with. Underwater that just goes away.''
It's easy to share the elation of a soldier who has left limbs and dead buddies on the battlefield as he glides amid sprawling coral reefs and spots a rare hawksbill turtle. Yet Guantanamo stirs other feelings during our four days here.
Cells, Detainees
Walking through Camp X-Ray, closed since 2002 and overgrown with tall grass and brush, I can view the minuscule cells reminiscent of an eerie, run-down kennel. The still operational Camp Delta and Camp IV and V are more modern and easier on the eye. They hold about 270 detainees, usually suspected of links to al-Qaeda or the Taliban, guarded and tended to by a staff of 2,000.
Nature somehow finds its way into even the most conflicted of places and in Guantanamo isn't limited to underwater. Giant iguanas, protected on the U.S. base, roam the sidewalks and front yards of many of the buildings. Banana rats, something similar to a raccoon and rather adorable despite the name, lounge in trees, and manatees roam the mangrove forests in the still waters of the bay.
During my visit, I'm allowed to roam Guantanamo with few restrictions. I run on the local track with the rest of the residents (everybody runs here). During a quick stop at the only mini mart, I'm reminded that I'm on a military base when I grab a bag of gummy bears that hangs amid tactical accessories, helmet sweatbands and rank stripes.
Diving Mecca
Media are generally restricted in Guantanamo and have to stay on the leeward side of the base near the landing strip. Being associated with the wounded soldiers' diving initiative, we are given more freedom to explore our surroundings.
The base's sole dive shop, Ocean Enterprises, run by Jessie Keenan, is bustling with customers this afternoon. While Guantanamo offers a batting cage, a go-cart track, a bowling alley and two outdoor movie theaters, the base's 45 square miles inevitably turn monotonous for the 9,000 residents, most of whom stay six months to a year. This has aided the transformation of Guantanamo into a diving mecca, a fact apparent in the red-and- white scuba stickers on many car bumpers.
``Demand for scuba on the base is huge,'' says Bill Keenan, Jessie's husband and a dive instructor who built the shop's diving boat. ``Probably 15 percent of the military rotating through here get certified.''
Close Encounter
On our last day of diving, Nick Paupore, a 32-year-old Army sergeant missing a leg, excitedly talks about his close encounter with a solitary barracuda. Paupore has been quiet and shy for most of the trip. Today, still dripping wet from his last dive, he smiles as he describes his fascination with the 2-foot-long aquatic predator.
``Every person asks me, `Does it stop you now that you have a disability?''' says Igor Macarov, who is sitting nearby. The 22-year-old Russian native lost his leg in a fire fight in Afghanistan in 2006 after joining the U.S. Army. ``What I tell them is that I can probably run better than you or do things that you haven't even done before. I don't think it's something that should stop anybody.''
To contact the reporter on this story: Nadja Brandt in Los Angeles at nbrandt@bloomberg.net
Last Updated: March 10, 2008 08:59 EDT
Ellie
By Nadja Brandt
March 10 (Bloomberg) -- Lance Corporal Josh Bleill of the U.S. Marine Corps is scuba-diving next to me in the balmy waters around Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.
He's missing both his legs, yet he glides quickly and effortlessly, propelling himself with the help of special webbed gloves, stopping to point at a giant ray on the ocean floor.
Above us on the surface are the dark forms of Viper speed boats carrying U.S. Coast Guard personnel equipped with .50- caliber machine guns. They patrol the perimeter of our dive site.
This is no Caribbean holiday. Bleill, 30, is a former lacrosse player for Purdue University who lost his legs in 2006 in Fallujah, Iraq. He's one of six unusual divers at an unlikely scuba destination.
``Nobody is allowed to dive in Guantanamo unless they are stationed here,'' says John Thompson, founder of Soldiers Undertaking Disabled Scuba.
Thompson, 42, started SUDS in February 2007 to teach wounded soldiers how to dive back into life. With the help of Harvey Naranjo, sports and activities coordinator at Washington-based Walter Reed Army Medical Center, and several of his volunteering friends, he teaches wounded soldiers diving skills in the center's aquatic-therapy pool. Guantanamo Bay is his first trip to give students the chance to complete the four open-water dives they need for scuba certification.
``The first day we saw a lobster, a turtle and a green eel,'' says Bleill, whose battle injuries also included a broken pelvis, a lacerated kidney and a broken jaw and nose.
Mobility, Freedom
``Weightlessness is cool,'' Bleill says. ``Being in the middle of nowhere with all these things around you. As an amputee you have that mobility and freedom under water that you just don't have on land.''
On the shore, a seemingly endless barbed-wire fence separates the military base from the rest of the island. The hillsides are studded with watchtowers and other strategic installations that are strictly off limits to our cameras.
Underwater, healthy coral reefs boast bright-orange elephant ear sponges, masses of brain coral and 2-foot-wide sea fans. The reefs are home to an array of colorful fish and other sea critters. The water is a saturated blue.
``We don't have any anchoring or pollution damage,'' Thompson says. ``That makes it all very pristine.''
Shane Heath, a 28-year-old Army sergeant, is zipping past me, propelled by an underwater scooter attached to the remains of his amputated arm while he keeps his balance with his one healthy leg.
``I read in magazines that there were some of the most beautiful dive sites in the world here before it was closed off,'' Heath says later. ``To be able to come down here and see some of these sites is a tremendous honor.''
Convoy of Vans
In order to reach today's dive spot at a narrow, typically closed-off beach, we have to drive our convoy of vans over rocky dirt roads that wind among ammunition bunkers, watch towers and fields of cacti. We can see the fences of one of the nearby detention camps.
``This just isn't your everyday dive spot,'' says instructor Jay Freebery.
Several dozen volunteers of Guantanamo's Joint Task Force, including marines and members of the Army, Navy and the Federal Bureau of Investigation, are here today to help the wounded soldiers. They schlep the gear and tanks and aid divers in donning their equipment.
Pat and Patrick Duffy, a father and son who run the Chatham Bay Foundation marine conservancy in Philadelphia, and Freebery have traveled here to help teach the students diving skills. Disabled Sports USA provided some of the financial support for this trip.
Feeling Graceful
More than 50 other wounded soldiers are waiting to join one of Thompson's future trips. Every two weeks, six new candidates sign up for his scuba program at Walter Reed.
``One of the great things about diving is how graceful I feel underwater,'' says Aaron Schoenfeld, 26, a lance corporal with the U.S. Marine Corps who lost one of his legs in a state- side accident in 2001. ``It's just something that's not possible on land.''
Schoenfeld notes that ``having a prosthetic leg is tough on the body. You put a lot of extra stress on joints and bones that normal people just don't have to deal with. Underwater that just goes away.''
It's easy to share the elation of a soldier who has left limbs and dead buddies on the battlefield as he glides amid sprawling coral reefs and spots a rare hawksbill turtle. Yet Guantanamo stirs other feelings during our four days here.
Cells, Detainees
Walking through Camp X-Ray, closed since 2002 and overgrown with tall grass and brush, I can view the minuscule cells reminiscent of an eerie, run-down kennel. The still operational Camp Delta and Camp IV and V are more modern and easier on the eye. They hold about 270 detainees, usually suspected of links to al-Qaeda or the Taliban, guarded and tended to by a staff of 2,000.
Nature somehow finds its way into even the most conflicted of places and in Guantanamo isn't limited to underwater. Giant iguanas, protected on the U.S. base, roam the sidewalks and front yards of many of the buildings. Banana rats, something similar to a raccoon and rather adorable despite the name, lounge in trees, and manatees roam the mangrove forests in the still waters of the bay.
During my visit, I'm allowed to roam Guantanamo with few restrictions. I run on the local track with the rest of the residents (everybody runs here). During a quick stop at the only mini mart, I'm reminded that I'm on a military base when I grab a bag of gummy bears that hangs amid tactical accessories, helmet sweatbands and rank stripes.
Diving Mecca
Media are generally restricted in Guantanamo and have to stay on the leeward side of the base near the landing strip. Being associated with the wounded soldiers' diving initiative, we are given more freedom to explore our surroundings.
The base's sole dive shop, Ocean Enterprises, run by Jessie Keenan, is bustling with customers this afternoon. While Guantanamo offers a batting cage, a go-cart track, a bowling alley and two outdoor movie theaters, the base's 45 square miles inevitably turn monotonous for the 9,000 residents, most of whom stay six months to a year. This has aided the transformation of Guantanamo into a diving mecca, a fact apparent in the red-and- white scuba stickers on many car bumpers.
``Demand for scuba on the base is huge,'' says Bill Keenan, Jessie's husband and a dive instructor who built the shop's diving boat. ``Probably 15 percent of the military rotating through here get certified.''
Close Encounter
On our last day of diving, Nick Paupore, a 32-year-old Army sergeant missing a leg, excitedly talks about his close encounter with a solitary barracuda. Paupore has been quiet and shy for most of the trip. Today, still dripping wet from his last dive, he smiles as he describes his fascination with the 2-foot-long aquatic predator.
``Every person asks me, `Does it stop you now that you have a disability?''' says Igor Macarov, who is sitting nearby. The 22-year-old Russian native lost his leg in a fire fight in Afghanistan in 2006 after joining the U.S. Army. ``What I tell them is that I can probably run better than you or do things that you haven't even done before. I don't think it's something that should stop anybody.''
To contact the reporter on this story: Nadja Brandt in Los Angeles at nbrandt@bloomberg.net
Last Updated: March 10, 2008 08:59 EDT
Ellie