Robert D. Ballard - Into the Deep: A Memoir From the Man Who Found Titanic

Published by National Geographic Partners, LLC

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Ballard, Robert D., author. | Drew, Christopher, 1956- author.

Title: Into the deep : A memoir from the man who found Titanic / Robert D. Ballard and Christopher Drew.

Description: Washington, D.C. : National Geographic, [2021] | Includes bibliographical references and index. | Summary: Oceanographer and marine biologist Robert D. Ballard looks back on a long and storied life that includes accomplishments ranging from discovering new life-forms to finding the wreck of the Titanic-- Provided by publisher.

Identifiers: LCCN 2020044366 (print) | LCCN 2020044367 (ebook) | ISBN 9781426220999 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781426221002 (ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: Ballard, Robert D. | Oceanographers--United States--Biography. | Marine biologists--United States--Biography.

Classification: LCC GC30.B35 A3 2021 (print) | LCC GC30.B35 (ebook) | DDC 551.46092 [B]--dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020044366

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020044367

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Interior design: Nicole Miller

21/VP-PCML/1

To Barbara

I t was one of the high points of my life. We had found the wreck of Titanic, lying more than two miles deep in the frigid North Atlantic waters, and it had set off a media frenzy. Top news anchors, late-night talk show hosts, and newspaper reporters all over the world wanted to talk to me, the man who had solved a 73-year-old mystery, the explorer who had found the most famous shipwreck in the world. And when I finally got home to my Cape Cod farmhouse, I realized that I hadnt had a chance to share the excitement with my parents.

Then the phone rang. It was my mom, calling from California. Ever since I was a rambunctious child, she had been my biggest booster. She had picked me up when I stumbled, encouraged my dreams, and taught me the discipline I needed to become an ocean scientist.

Your dad, sister, and I have been watching, she said. Youve been on all the networks, and the phone has been ringing with friends and relatives calling us. I was leaning against the kitchen counter, soaking it all in. Then her tone shifted.

But its too bad, she said. Now they are only going to remember you for that rusty old boat.

That rusty old boat. The phrase rings in my ears to this day. And you know what? She was right; mothers know best. When people hear the name Bob Ballard, they instantly think the guy who found Titanic. Discovering Titanic was an experience of a lifetime and an accomplishment Im proud of, to be sure. But theres so much more to my story.

Discovering new life-forms that rewrote our definition of life on Earth and possibly on other planets.

Finding other sunken vesselsLusitania, Bismarck, Yorktown, PT-109and answering questions that linger about their fate and those who perished with them.

Tracing ancient trade routes in the Mediterranean and the Black Sea, pulling up precious Roman, Greek, and Phoenician artifacts, and confirming hypotheses about a great flood in biblical times.

Developing robots that can roam the ocean floor 24/7, sending video back up to the surface, with views better than any we might have been able to get by diving in submersibles.

Offering you are there experiences to kids around the world through telepresence, so that even if theyve never been on a boat or seen the open water, they can explore the ocean floor and hear scientists explain what they are seeing.

There are so many stories to tell, full of adventure, risk, thrills, and danger. There also is my own journey of self-discovery, as I learned to embrace failure as the greatest teacher and to set ambitious goals that help me achieve my dreams. Why join the crowd in climbing a 10,000-foot mountain, I like to say, when no ones tackling the 30,000-foot one nearby?

Perhaps you think of me just as the guy who found that rusty old boat. But let me tell you the rest of the story.

I was still a boy, bursting with energy and wanderlust, when I first discovered the tidal pools along the Southern California coast. Every day, when high tides recede, they leave behind a stranded menagerie of sea creatures in every niche and depression, only to be washed away at the next changing of the tides. Its like a kaleidoscope, and every 12 hours brings a new cast of characters. One time, we see sea urchins or a small octopus trying not to be seen; the next, a cluster of snails and small fish. Or maybe a crab that fights to the death when you try to pick it up, or a sea anemone waving seductively in the gently moving water.

I loved beachcombingstill dowandering up and down the coast, picking up shells and the occasional glass float covered in barnacles. In grade school, I dreamed up a way to hook buried razor clams with a twisted coat hanger. I was always eager to see what was a little farther down the beach. Something magical might be just beyond the next point.

I got my first taste of the ocean, literally, when I was just two years old, and my father had taken me and my older brother, Richard, to the beach. We gazed at the sea in wonderment, Dad said, like it was the greatest thing wed ever seen, and before he could stop us, we both rushed headlong into the surf. Within seconds, waves flipped us head over heels, and I absorbed the first lesson the ocean taught me as Dad dragged us back to dry sand.

As a kid in Southern California in those days, you only went inside to eat or sleep, and I was on a tear from the moment I walked out the door. I was always a bundle of energy, and if Richard and I werent at the beach, I was out in the yard, ignoring other restrictions. The house we lived in when I was a toddler had a backyard with a six-foot fence and an old chicken coop. One day my mother got a call from a local grocer saying Id wandered into his store. She thought I was still in the backyard. I was marched home, spanked, and put back outside. Soon the grocer rang again, a little more irritated. I was back. Turns out, I had discovered a knot on the side of the chicken coop that I could use to leverage myself onto its roof and, from there, over the fence.