Swimming with sea lions in 'the last frontier'

Underwater with God's creatures. Watch out for the
battering cod

By Elizabeth Wasserman

Dr Mark Frobb's got a great life � a successful pain management practice, a happy family and a beautiful home on the coast of British Columbia. So why would the 54-year-old physician want to head out into the northern Pacific Ocean in mid-winter in a small boat and plunge 38 metres down into 4� waters? Dr Frobb is a scuba enthusiast with a hundred dives under his belt and a passion for the oversized wildlife of the Pacific Northwest.

Three years ago, Dr Frobb was preparing for a trip to Bali to meet up with his two daughters, Frances Ann and Roslyn, who were travelling. They suggested that he get his diving certification in Vancouver before heading for Indonesia, so they could share in one of the great thrills the region had to offer. Dad followed their advice, and arrived ready for his first, life-changing deepsea adventure. "It was amazing," he reminisces, "I can still remember being down at 80 feet and the water was 90 degrees. I was surrounded by all of these wonderful fish and coloured coral, and then I came across a giant leatherback turtle, just sitting there chilling in the breeze." Since that day, he hasn't been able to keep his head above water for more than a month at a time. One of his five kids shares this passion for the deep: another daughter, Rachel, is a marine biologist. The rest of the Frobb clan consists of wife Donna, an artist, and two more kids, Renee and Thomas.

INTO THE DEEP - AND COLD
Apart from a couple of trips to Malaysia and Mexico, Dr Frobb has mostly kept his hobby to colder waters. At least once a month, he and a regular group of six to 10 people, most of them in their 50s, head out to sea from the shores of BC. They spend up to five days on their skiff, anchoring in different areas and doing several dives a day. "It's pretty much 'eat, sleep and dive," he sums up.

A popular spot for researchers, including Jacques Cousteau, the low-temperature, nutrient-rich waters of the northwestern Pacific are home to an abundance of extra-large sea life. A desire to be in the company of these creatures lures Dr Frobb back into his dry suit time and time again. One of his favourite destinations is Norris Rock where male sea lions from Alaska and California come by the thousands in February and March to feast on herring and lay about on the rocks. "They're bored," he says, "so as soon as a diver comes by they'll come down into the water." They weigh in at around 500kg, but, according to Dr Frobb, "they move through the water as graceful as a dancer." They're curious, but not dangerous, he says. "They'll gnaw on you, and if you push on them they'll push back. But you're not a food source, and if you just stay quiet and don't interact with them, they won't bother you."

He's found this to be true of most of his well-fed sea companions: they are fairly non-threatening as long as they are treated with a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Giant Pacific octopi, grimacing wolf eels and heavyweight sea lions have all cooperatively posed for Dr Frobb's camera. He's captured killer whales as well, though not in close-ups. "The key is to show respect for the nature around you," he advises. "If you start messing with a large octopus and it grabs onto you, you're not going to get away." One possible exception to this rule, he admits, is the ling cod. The 50 to 60-pound fish get testy during nesting season, when they will charge any hapless being that comes near their unborn young. Dr Frobb has been lucky so far, but knows of a few divers who have suffered the painful embarrassment of being battered by cod. "They can definitely bruise you," he says.

TOTALLY GEAR
By far the greatest danger to the diver is his own inexperience or foolishness. In the hostile environment of the ocean's depths, the diver has to remain in a constant state of hyperawareness, always keeping a long checklist of safety concerns in mind. Buoyancy control is a particularly tricky issue in the dry suits that are worn in cold temperatures. And equipment failure is a risk in any clime. When it comes to equipment, Dr Frobb is a firm believer in redundancy: he carries two sets of regulators and air tanks on every dive. At greater depths, where longer decompression stops become necessary, risks increase. Since he's in it for the nature, rather than the adrenaline rush, he doesn't delve beyond the recreational diving limit of 38 m and limits his dives to 45 minutes.

Ever the man of science, Dr Frobb regularly attends local meetings of the Hyperbaric Society to keep abreast of dive-related developments and medical issues. He's done some research of his own, and recently completed an article on cold water immersion for Alert Diver magazine. Dr Frobb also combines his professional and recreational expertise as a medical examiner for the Workman's Compensation Board of British Columbia, conducting regular examinations of commercial divers that are required in order for them to maintain their certification.

Scientific interest aside, Dr Frobb maintains that the sport appeals above all to his sense of wonder and the thrill of interacting with nature in its purest form. "There's not a lot of the world left that hasn't been completely walked over by someone," he points out. "But when you're diving, you can easily be covering an area that you know no man has been to before you. It's the last frontier."