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Men of Deep Plunge into Their Work with Gusto |
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The Edmonton
Journal March 16 1997 For three years they've been northern Alberta's true men of the deep, scouring river and lake floors for sights few would care to view when warm and dry. The 18 volunteer scuba divers in the Northern Alberta Aquatic Rescue Society work in watery obscurity -- often below thick crusts of ice. But their reputation for recovering bodies, saving lives and obtaining crucial criminal evidence is rapidly growing. "I can't tell you how badly these guys were needed," says Cpl. Bob Teather, founder of the RCMP dive team in B.C., who helped train the Edmonton-based unit. "When there's a drowning, most families need what the psychologists call closure. They want their loved one back for burial or cremation, and these fellows afford them a lot of peace." More important, Teather says, they give police an outside chance at nabbing criminals who dump evidence -- bodies, weapons, clothing or even vehicles -- into the water. "More and more, water is being used to cover up crimes," he says. "Sadly, in the majority of homicides where the body is found in the water, the killer gets away with it." Formed in 1994 to perform basic rescue and recovery, the society is made up exclusively of recreational divers who've taken special training to do their jobs. They've since expanded their training repertoire, transforming themselves from dilettantes who took tropical diving tours to valuable rescources for police and rescue crews. The group was recruiting this weekend at Divescapes '97, a trade show and exhibition at the Edmonton Inn. But prospective members be warned -- the job is more about guts than glory. While most dive crews trained to take pictures, shoot video and recover evidence make good money from the Mounties or fire departments, the society is one of just a few in North America operating on a non-profit basis. They buy special equipment with the proceeds of foundation grants or bingo nights, and are constantly seeking government funding. They supply their own diving gear, and the $600 for their special training comes out of pocket. "But you have to understand these guys are not in it for the money," says member Dennis Campbell, also a city firefighter. "We thought this might be a way to give something back to the community." Worse, their trademark skill is ice rescue and recovery -- a bone-chilling and downright dangerous business, even with neoprene suits. They were the divers who grimly braved roaring, chilly waters in the Mill Creek ravine in March 1995 to look for Hisaya Okumiya, 11, who fell in and was swept under the ice. "You're tied in, but if that line ever snapped, there's a good chance you'd never find your way back to the surface," says Campbell of ice recovery work. "And when you come out of the water at 30-below, it's instant freeze time." Other jobs are simply bizarre. In January 1996 they were called to a farm near Whitecourt to recover the carcasses of about 30 cows that had fallen through the ice of Shiningbank Lake. "We tied them to a front end loader and just pulled 'em out," recalls member Philip McKerry. "What else could we do?" The group is receiving increasing recognition from the Edmonton Police and Emergency Response Services, says president Cliff Bergunde. A year ago, they recovered a weapon from the North Saskatchewan to be used as evidence in an upcoming murder trial. They can't provide much more detail without risking the case, but they're clearly proud. Such work demands police training in crime-scene photography and investigation that can be used in court. In a sense, the divers become the eyes of the police and investigators. "There's not a lot of us around," says Bergunde, "and we have to know what we're doing."
Copyright © 1998-2000
Northern Alberta Aquatic Rescue Society |
