Yves Omer, the oceanaut

On September 17, 1965, the divers of the Cousteau team began a unique experience in the world: to live a month at 100 meters deep, off the coast of St Jean Cap Ferrat, with the steel sphere of Précontinent 3 as their only refuge. Yves Omer was on the trip. He tells Francis Leguen for scuba-people, the scuba diving magazine.

My Cousteau years

A house under the sea ... In apnea, I have just crossed the airlock, a hundred meters deep. Immersed in dark and icy water, with the mission of connecting the umbilicals to the boosters.

But hardly out, I feel myself grabbed towards the surface by a terrible grip: I am much too light! And in danger of death if I do not manage to stop my uncontrolled ascent: if I burst the surface like a ball, without decompression, I'm screwed!

Miraculously, I cling to the superstructures of our habitat and manage to unwind with the strength of my arms until I cross the airlock again and regain the relative safety of the steel sphere which serves as our refuge in the depths of Saint Jean Cap Ferrat.

And I understand what happened. We breathe a mixture of helium and oxygen. And we are saturated with helium, our lungs, our neoprene clothes: real balloons ready to fly to the surface. We're going to need twice as many pellets.

And learn to resist the cold: because of the pressure that reigns here, our suits have become thick like cigarette paper! And expand on the way up… One day, we lost a glove and the guys from the surface told us that they had recovered 5-legged pants!

At the time, we discovered. We knew nothing and we were constantly experimenting… It was in the fall of 65 that the Précontinent 3 experiment began. Five men (André Laban, Philippe Cousteau, Christian Bonnici, Raymond Coll, Jacques Rollet) and myself we had to share for a month a spherical steel house submerged 100 m deep. We were inhaling a 98% heliox mixture to saturation and going down to work daily at - 120 m on a dummy wellhead.

Yes, we were real pioneers. In a still unknown hyperbaric environment. Philippe Cousteau spoke of mastering fear. But I was the youngest and I was not afraid, I had confidence. In Bébert, in Cousteau. Trust in this whole chain of sailors, divers, secretaries, technicians who had brought us there.

And then we had been over-trained. To go down in apnea to 40m and more, breathing from time to time on relay bottles ... Or to cross long distances breathing under upturned basins!

And when I think back to the low means we had at the time (we tinkered with everything) it's a miracle that we didn't have any problems!

The difference was obvious with the Anglo-Saxon world as I saw when we were invited to the launch of the US Navy Sealab 3 experiment on San Clemente Island in California. I came with my Arriflex camera to film the oceanauts. With my red cap, among dozens of standing photographers, journalists in a pool. Officers with caps, boat three times the size of the Calypso, huge crowd… While at 185 m, the habitat was leaking and losing helium!

And a little anxious officials who kept asking me, knowing that we had no waterproofing problem on Précontinent 3:

- How did you make the watertight hull passages?

- To manganese paste, I invariably replied, even if they never seemed convinced.

4 divers went down to try to repair the leak but nothing helped: the media were stamping their feet. On the second attempt, it is the tragedy: one of the divers does not come back! We will know later that he had forgotten the purifying cartridge of his recycler ...

A guy from the Navy ...

I just turned 74. Originally from Brive la Gaillarde, I found myself in Toulon in the sixties with a strong desire to travel. At that time, in the midst of the Algerian war, there weren't many alternatives. This is how I found myself hired for 3 years in the French Navy. I was not 20 years old. I did a bit of everything: the Captain's driver, on-board groceries and even research on submarine sonar. It was the beginning of electronics, with huge equipment, cables and big lamps… In short, I was bored.

One day, I said to my superiors:

- I want to be a submariner.

- You just have to pass the physical and mental exams!

Physical side no problem but I soon found myself in front of a psychologist with a battery of tests to solve ... And after a while, the guy said to me:

Anyway, the submariners are all idiots! You don't have a future in there. Go study!

So I left, my periscope between my legs ... But after 28 months of service, I was still at the same point. Certainly, I had learned a lot of things, became a Doctor here and there ... And then, I remember, it was in the open sea, in winter, someone said:

- Do at least a diver!

Tilt: I wanted to become a diver! But I had 7 months to shoot before I was twenty… I was then sent to Sainte Anne, in Toulon. To pass psychotechnical tests. And I fell back on the same shrink who questioned me about my motivations! With more or less the same answer: Get out! ...

But this time, I didn't want to leave one fin in front, one fin behind and I apostrophized the recruiting officer:

- You tell me that diving has no future but if I told you that I want to do that for the money?

- So there, I sign immediately!

Understand who can, but it was the start of a wonderful adventure. The discovery of diving. From the third dimension of space. The French Navy trained people magnificently. At Saint Mandrier, they were all “boosted”, except me. But the physical training was very thorough. We also received a solid intellectual training. Time passed between studies, calculations, training, handling tools, welding, cutting… As we do today at the INPP but for 15 bricks… Today, young people pay for everything. I was paid for everything! I came out second in my class.

And I was back on the boat with a new degree. Diver. And also the on-board grocer. Not many opportunities to dive on board so, on land, we would occasionally go diving in Vespa. Always with this question that tormented me: what was I going to be able to do with my life?

At the time, Cousteau was starting to make people talk about him with the Précontinent 2 experiment which took place in the Red Sea. My father who listened to it on the radio said to me:

- Are you a sailor? Are you a diver? Contact him!

Calypso

So I wrote to Cousteau, without too much hope, to offer him my services. On January 12, 1964, I was demobilized. And shortly after, I received a summons from Falco giving me an appointment in Marseille, quai de la grande bigue! It was there that I discovered Calypso. The workshops were in an indescribable mess but there was an incredible life and creativity. In total contrast with the Navy. And I cried out, sincere:

- Oh how lucky you are!

At the office, Falco then introduced me to Cousteau with these words:

- Commander: here is a future diver!

It was worth a diploma. And yet, I had no doubt that there must be a mass of candidates… And the training with Falco began. Completely different from that of the Navy. Like: we went down to 40m with a number of 4 digits to remember. Basically, I was asked to add my date of birth and multiply by another number. And, narcosis or not, the result had to be better! We also did long trips underwater, with three divers, and then Falco would ask us to come back to anchor. My training as a sailor then served me well. Sailor-diver. And at that time, there were still no O-rings, polypropylene, duct tape: we were doing everything with hemp and coconut floss!

It was ten years of happiness. The cruises, from 1964, Précontinent 3 in 1965. And what a school of life! Both at Cousteau and in the Navy, I have never felt such freedom to think, to act, regardless of religions and political inclinations.

At the time, we thought collective. But the personalities were not afraid to assert themselves. Cousteau was a man, a chef, a real one. He relied on people's personalities. In civilian life, there remained the sailor who had learned to command at the naval school as an officer. He enforced a hierarchy of functioning and not a hierarchy of position, taking men as they were. We never had any authority issues with him.

You will tell Omer that he is an underwater cameraman!

One day, Philippe Cousteau said to me:
- I'm going to Monaco to see my father. Come with me ? We'll drive the Morgan!
Philippe liked vintage convertibles but, frankly, I didn't feel very comfortable. I considered myself to be a “basic employee” in this structure. I had a problem with "the rich". And I behaved a bit like the peasants of my youth. Arrived in Monaco, I found myself in a “function” building, elevator, 20 cm thick carpet… To discover Cousteau and “the shepherdess”, hilarious, jumping on a “modern” bed with electric lift … So, I said to myself: what the hell am I doing here?
- Dad, you understand, Yves has to become a cameraman!
- Ok, ok, why not? You have to see Alinat.

But I felt that the Pasha had nothing to do with it at the time and that he was especially in a hurry to return to heckle with Simone, like a kid. I was flabbergasted. Without immediately understanding the incredible chance he was offering me.

After a detour via Paris, head for the Monaco museum, driving the Morgan. It was there that I met Jean Alinat, an extraordinary type, the eminence grise of Cousteau. Manly handshake and immediately he unfolded his eagle arms and made the decisions.

It was decided that I would take a correspondence film course and that the rest, well, I would learn it by doing it. A spectacular promotion which earned me some jealousy on the part of "colleagues" Parisian filmmakers ...

But I had learned to record what I saw underwater, to transmit an emotion. I found myself in South Africa on my first shoot featuring the “sea fleas”, our two submersibles. And, to be honest, I wasn't very proud. A single watchword: Omer, film!

Cousteau had left by plane with the films to have them developed and viewed in Los Angeles. From the middle of the Atlantic, we communicated thanks to Saint Lys Radio. And we were all listening around the station, like on Radio London during the war, waiting for the Pasha's verdict.

So I heard the Commander's voice, distorted by the transmission:
- By the way, you will tell Omer that he is an underwater cameraman!

Run over by a whale

The shootings took place around the world. I was part of the “new wave” with Philippe Cousteau. Flying teams, light, with maximum autonomy and efficiency. In Guadalupe, Mexico, we had already commissioned two teams. Then, to complete the film, I was sent alone with the equipment and full responsibility, for several months.

Rigorous check-list, disembarkation, installation of the camp then the Calypso sets sail and disappears in the distance. It was then that I realized that I had forgotten the underwater camera! It wasn't until 8 days later that a camera was finally sent to me and I was able to start diving ...

Mission completed, one evening, at the helm of Calypso, Philippe pat me on the back:

- You know, Yves, luckily we sent you there: your images are the only ones left. Those of the others were damaged in the lab ...

In 1968, while the revolution was brewing in Paris, I was in a tent, in the Panama Canal, in the middle of elephant seals. With a compressor and boxes of red wine. Enough to stay a month, with daily shore dives. The time to get to know the local fishermen: lobsters against red wine ... I have always looked for the relationship with animals but concerning elephant seals, I had no information: I discovered everything by myself, the approach, behavior. And, over time, I saw things that made me feel better that they are very close to us. Much more than you think. But scientists accuse me of anthropomorphism!

I learned a lot from these “wild beasts”. Once, I was following with the palm a troop of young males in broadside. One of them, belly bouncing towards the surface, was playing quietly. He turned around and we exchanged a long look that I considered accomplice. I found him a little further, beyond a creek, but this time with the fin resting on the shoulder of a young female. And then, I attended a ballet between the surface and the bottom, movements of any beauty. Then, the female withdrew, abandoning the male to his huge cock. She went back to the beach while the male joined his friends, sheepish. And those looks, those of my youth when it was in principle forbidden to see girls ...

In 69 we are in San Diego, received like royalty. The objective is to film a gray whale and the team has been looking for it for months… One day, we were told of a whale that had been harpooned with 1000 m of steel cable and buoys to slow it down. We decide to go. Bébert is piloting the Zodiac and I am sitting on the sausage with my camera. I wait. After 4 hours of pursuit, we are almost at the side of the whale.

- Jumped up ! shouts Bébert

But this is the time that the whale chooses to jump too. A formidable leap in the foam which ends across the Zodiac. Huge shock. We're sinking! The gas tank is flattened and I find myself underwater, my knee stuck between the Zodiac and the whale! Ropes everywhere. So the Zod is propelled like a plug on the surface and I find myself freed ...

Hyperoxia in Corsica

Yes, several times we did not go far. As on the shoot with the coral trader Recco, in Corsica. I am the official cameraman.

It is planned to descend to 110 m to follow the evolutions of the corailleur which plunges it with compressed air to collect the red gold.

When he is on the ground, Recco limps and his walk is lame because of the multiple decompression accidents he has suffered… He has concocted a table for himself. You have to see him with his rusty rifle, climb aboard his Zodiac where he finds his sailor, Nadine, a nice brunette attentive to everything that is happening. Places are coveted, hence the rifle ...

We are going to dive with heliox, with safe decompression tables. Our turret will come and collect us at -40m so that we can decompress in relative comfort on the bridge, watched by teams around us. Moreover, in case of doubt about the procedure to follow, a call to the Monaco Museum and the experts will confirm us or not in our procedures.

The night before, I told the corailleur what I wanted to do with him and how I would like him to position himself in front of the camera. Before diving, the weather rises and the 3 divers, that we are, are warned that it will not be possible to put the turret in the water. We will make our bearings in the water. And we will have to switch to oxygen at a depth much greater than the standard to eliminate the helium as quickly as possible ...

Harnessed from our tribouteilles we jump into the water with nets full of stones to accelerate the descent. We must join the corailleur and arrive together on the bottom. No question of hanging around during the descent. We do it in 1 minute, we have 10 for the job, otherwise the corailleur may run out of air and so will we. And that can take us to interminable levels.

Basically everything is going well. The corailleur is marvelously positioned so that I record his actions and thus give as many shots as possible to the editors over there in the USA to allow them to create the film. The water on the descent is murky and, at the bottom, greenish with bluish distances, but very dark. The water is loaded with particles and I have to be careful with the camera / light angle. But everything is going well, the coral harvest is not bad and I feel that I have boxed what it takes.

The ascent takes place at the required speed. -40m, no turret. The corailleur makes his ascent according to his own rules. We arrive at our oxy bearings before he arrives at his swing where he spends an endless time evacuating all the invisible and painless bubbles that invade him.

The limit for the use of pure oxygen in free water is -7m. When we get to the landing, we are much lower than this limit. We get rid of our sorting and take the oxy breathing nozzle. We also put on a bottle of air to alternate pure oxy and air to avoid syncope.

One of the three of us had the habit, for fun, of releasing his mouthpiece, extending his arm and looking at us with a clenched grin. This is what it does, again, but it freezes abnormally for a long time and begins to sink! We rush. He is paralyzed, stiff as a lace-up. We catch it. And the surveillance is not there! Fortunately Nadine saw everything and sounded the alarm. General panic. Bring his unconscious friend to the surface ... Fortunately, when we emerge, help is there.

Quick descent, quick oxygen ... Breathing regains its calm and my acolyte gives me signs inviting me to respect the procedure while I, above all, seek to get rid of as much helium as possible. Damn ! My colleague has just released his breathing nozzle and the safety line. It starts to sink too and air comes out of its mouth. I rush, pick it up and go back up. But my stages are not finished and I do not know very well where I am. I end them with emotion and the fear of falling into syncope. I am alone and the surface seems far away. The corailleur below saw nothing and I watch him read his book, sitting on his swing, waiting for time to pass before climbing a little higher.

I'm fed up, I'm going back up. At scale: nobody! I climb alone, with my equipment. Effervescence on board. It was then that cameraman Renoir rushed to film me. A little tense, I remember telling him:

- You break with your camera or you go overboard!

It seems I was livid. Nadine, on her zodiac, was crying ... Disconcerted, groggy but safe, I then headed for the showers to finish my decompression stops.

I spent thirty years of my life in the service of the sea, ten of them with Commander Cousteau… An exceptional life!

An Emy Award will be presented to him in Hollywood for the film on the Blue Holes of the Bahamas, with Deloire and Goupil and another distinction for the documentary on the salmon. Yves declares himself very happy to have been rewarded even if he is not fooled by “honors”.

“But it's true that you had to be able to shoot without a viewfinder, to tell a story, to shoot the tie-ins… In Hollywood, the editor only took my images… What is certain is that everything what we have shown in the films we have experienced. Without bluff. In the French Navy, we had an ethic… ”

After the Cousteau period, Yves Omer (who is still looking for what to do with his life while always having done) worked in Italy for the industrial navy. Then he became an instructor at the INPP (National Institute of Professional Diving) in Marseille. But this is another story…

“My interest in life was to see life. And I saw her. I saw the extraordinary… ”

Interview by Francis Le Guen