Jacques Cousteau: The Man Who Taught Us How to Fly

By Daniel Barrett

Today, the name Jacques Cousteau exists in the realm of legend. For decades, the images he brought to TV screens all over the world of an environment so alien yet so close fascinated viewers unaccustomed to such exotic sights. The man himself was slight but fearless, his announcement of the approach of an ominous, deadly creature being as mundane as the coming of the pizza man. Most of all, Cousteau inspired and made possible the exploration of the sea by a host of amateur adventurers. It was by his example that so many dared to dive, explore, and dream.

You might say he never intended to do any of it.

Although the young Cousteau always had a fascination with the sea and photography, by the time he graduated from high school he had sights set on the sky. The once troubled teen had managed to graduate from the French Naval Academy in Brest . He was on the fast track to becoming a naval pilot. But one night, amidst the hairpin turns of the Vosges Mountains , the lights on Cousteau's speeding sports car failed. Although he quickly applied the breaks, he wasn't fast enough. The car flew off the side of the mountain.

Many might say Cousteau was lucky. He managed to escape the wreck with only two broken arms and partial paralysis on one side. Cousteau may not have thought so, however. The injuries affectively ended his career as a pilot. The advice of the doctors that his one arm be amputated met with stern disapproval from Cousteau. It is this resolve to which today we owe the modern sport of scuba diving.

Cousteau needed to recuperate, and a friend suggested the best exercise to strengthen his arms would be swimming. The rest, you might say, is history. From his initial swims for rehabilitation off the coast of Toulon , France , Cousteau became anxious to see it all. Through the help of various acquaintances, he soon began using goggles and even a crude oxygen rebreather, any device that would help him improve his sight and extend his time underwater.

Cousteau, however, knew what he needed: a device that would allow him to breathe compressed air underwater. With the help of engineer Emile Gagnan, whom he met through his father-in-law, Cousteau developed what we all know today as the Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus or SCUBA.

The story of Cousteau is a very poignant one for all of us at Diveheart. Modern sport diving can, in a very real sense, be said to have come from a physically handicapped diver. It has its origins in the use of the water as therapy and gave a man, who thought his career was over, a new focus for his life. A man who once wanted to fly above the ground, found himself flying beneath it.

More importantly, Cousteau's passion and drive is a powerful illustration of what one can do in the face of adversity. Cousteau was unwilling to accept his limitations, unwilling to accept what even the experts told him (i.e., an amputated arm) would be his future. In the process of his rehabilitation, he changed the lives of thousands of people that would come after him.

So are the hundreds of physically impaired divers that Diveheart takes into the water each year also refusing to accept their limitations. Each of them is, in a very real sense, another Cousteau, willing to do whatever it takes to experience all of the world he or she can. And, like Cousteau, our divers have a legacy. Their legacy is the inspiration they provide to all the Diveheart volunteers and supporters. Like Cousteau taught us to appreciate the beauty and wonder of the sea, Diveheart divers teach us to appreciate the beauty and wonder of the human spirit as it dares to fly and dream.