Skip to main content

Indigenous Aquatic Ability: The “Bends” by Mark Hatmaker


Continuing our theme of exploring warrior facility in the aquatic environment, talk must be made of the “bends,” the intense dangers of this malady, and how a simple tribal method of timing thwarts this dire condition.

First, what exactly are the “bends”?

The “bends” have also been known as diver’s disease, and caisson disease. [Caisson disease being named for the watertight structures placed at depth to allow laborers to work on the foundations of bridges, dams, and tunnels.]

These slang terms are all referring to decompression sickness [DCS from here on out.] When working at depth or altitude [DCS can afflict those flying at altitude in non-pressurized flight suits or extravehicular activity-EVA-outside of spacecraft] the human body experiences extreme changes in pressure: water or air pressure depending on the medium.

If the human returns to standard pressure too quickly, dissolved gases, in particular nitrogen, comes out of solution and can form bubbles inside the body. Depending on the location of these bubbles and their volume they can affect the body in different ways, from headaches, to joint pain, to seizures etc. These symptoms are often acute and can be deadly.

To combat DCS, decompression chambers, pressurized suits, and complex ascent charts with specific decompression times have been concocted to thwart the dangers.

We see this danger primarily in divers and airmen who have the benefit of technological assistance to artificially increase the depths or heights the body can reach. In the case of the aquatic environment, we have air tanks to allow us to go deeper or to hang out longer at depth.

In the case of skin-diving [diving without apparatus] or free-diving [the sportive aspect where depth is the measuring benchmark] DCS is seldom a problem.

Why?

Length of dive.

Even divers with extended breath holds are not submerged at depth long enough to allow nitrogen bubbling sufficient to make DCS a problem. This holds true even for divers who regularly reach 150 feet.

But…

Skin-divers can and do suffer from DCS who make repeated depth-dives even if they are all of short duration.

[Side-Bar: In surveys of indigenous diving cultures around the world, the average length of a dive is around the 2-minute mark. Many can exceed this but either skill at the task being performed, say pearl diving, or accrued wisdom seems to keep the dives around 2-minutes. Working for breath holds much beyond this point may not be necessary or, in fact wise, we’ll cover that another day.]

In the South Pacific we find the Tuamotu archipelago. The indigenous peoples here are traditional pearl-divers with extraordinary diving ability. Amongst these divers there is a condition known as taravana. Taravana translates loosely to “fall crazily.”

If a pearl diver becomes afflicted with “taravana” he or she may experience headaches, visual problems, dizziness, paralysis, and even die.

Taravana is an ever-present concern. One observer reports that on a single day out of 235 pearl divers, 47 suffered taravana symptoms, many were mild but six of these individuals were paralyzed, and two died.

At first glance, it seems that we are seeing aspects of DCS but dive times still hovered at the 2-minute mark which would suggest that we should be well under the nitrogen bubbling danger.

And yet, clearly diving, even without apparatus can be extremely dangerous.

And yet…on the nearby island of Mangareva, which is also occupied by a pearl-diving culture the condition of taravana is completely unknown.

How can this be?

A separation of a few hundred miles, similar genetic make-up, same vocation/avocation and yet one culture is tragically plagued with disability and death and the other—nothing.

Turns out that taravana is indeed a form of DCS. It is triggered not by the depth of the dive, or the duration of the dive, but by the intervals between dives.

The Tuomatu pearl-divers make between 6-14 dives per hour. The depths are as great as 150 feet, and the average dive time is 2-minutes.

They remain on the surface for an average duration that lasts between 4 and 8 minutes.

Let’s look at what the divers of Mangareva are doing. Same average number of dives in a day. Same depths reached. Same average underwater dive-duration but…Mangareva tradition dictates that they remain on the surface between dives longer.

How much longer? 2 minutes longer. They remain on the surface for at least 10-minutes between dives.

A mere 2-minute difference between the Mangareva and the Tuomatu spells the difference between high injury/high fatality rate, and zero presence of taravana.

It is now known that taravana is another form of DCS. It turns out that repeated dives to depth with short duration between is too brief a time to allow the nitrogen to be cleared from the system. Repeated dives allow the nitrogen to accumulate and trigger DCS.

Whereas, a mere 2-minute longer wait between dives and nada.

With this in mind, we can take the wisdom of the Mangareva and Navy Frogman combat breath holding tactics and dive and swim better and with more safety.
[For more on Indigenous Aquatic Ability see the articles in this blog "Ancient Hellene Frogmen & Combat Breath-Holding Tactics", "Aquatic Evasion", & "Hacking Visual Acuity the Sea-Gypsy Way."]
[For more Old School training practices subscribe to this blog, the RAW Subscription Service and our upcoming book Rough & Tumble Conditioning.]

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Apache Running by Mark Hatmaker

Of the many Native American tribes of the southwest United States and Mexico the various bands of Apache carry a reputation for fierceness, resourcefulness, and an almost superhuman stamina. The name “Apache” is perhaps a misnomer as it refers to several different tribes that are loosely and collectively referred to as Apache, which is actually a variant of a Zuni word Apachu that this pueblo tribe applied to the collective bands. Apachu in Zuni translates roughly to “enemy” which is a telling detail that shines a light on the warrior nature of these collective tribes.             Among the various Apache tribes you will find the Kiowa, Mescalero, Jicarilla, Chiricahua (or “Cherry-Cows” as early Texas settlers called them), and the Lipan. These bands sustained themselves by conducting raids on the various settled pueblo tribes, Mexican villages, and the encroaching American settlers. These American settlers were often immigrants of all nationalities with a strong contingent of

The Empirical Fighter: Rules for the Serious Combatant by Mark Hatmaker

  Part 1: Gear Idealized or World Ready? 1/A: Specificity of Fitness/Preparation If you’ve been in the training game for any length of time likely you have witnessed or been the subject of the following realization. You’ve trained HARD for the past 90 days, say, put in sprint work and have worked up to your fastest 5K. Your handy-dandy App says your VO2 Max is looking shipshape. You go to the lake, beach, local swimmin’ hole with your buddies and one says “ Race you to the other side!” You, with your newfound fleet-of-foot promotion to Captain Cardio, say, “ Hell, yeah!” You hit the river and cut that water like Buster Crabbe in “ Tarzan the Fearless ” with your overhand stroke….for the first 50 yards, then this thought hits as the lungs begin to gasp for air, “ Am a I gonna die in the middle of this river?” This experiment can be repeated across many domains of physical endeavor. ·         The man with the newfound Personal Record in the Bench Press getting smoked in

The Original Roadwork by Mark Hatmaker

  Mr. Muldoon Roadwork. That word, to the combat athlete, conjures images of pre-dawn runs, breath fogging the morning air and, to many, a drudgery that must be endured. Boxers, wrestlers, kickboxers the world over use roadwork as a wind builder, a leg conditioner, and a grit tester. The great Joe Frazier observed… “ You can map out a fight plan or a life plan, but when the action starts, it may not go the way you planned, and you're down to the reflexes you developed in training. That's where roadwork shows - the training you did in the dark of the mornin' will show when you're under the bright lights .” Roadwork has been used as a tool since man began pitting himself against others of his species in organized combat. But…today’s question . Has it always been the sweat-soaked old school gray sweat suit pounding out miles on dark roads or, was it something subtler, and, remarkably slower? And if it was, why did we transition to what, and I repeat myself,