We were now ready for the first diver to go over the side and attach the down-haul cable of the rescue bell to the ring in the center of the forward torpedo room hatch on the submarine. This steel cable would be used by the bell to pull itself down into position directly over the torpedo room escape hatch. Boatswain's Mate Martin Sibitsky had been picked for the crucial dive and was dressed and resting on the fantail. He was a six-foot-four giant, thirty years old, and a first class diver in every sense of the word -- a regular member of the crew of the FALCON.
Earlier in the morning, Sibitzky and the other divers had been over on the deck of the sister ship, the SCULPIN, studying all the fittings and location of the various parts of the superstructure. He wasn't worried about this; he wasn't worried about the 240 foot depth; he wasn't worried about any part of the dive except where did that line attached to the buoy lead to? Was it really on the submarine or was it attached to some old hulk? No one could be sure until he put his feet down on the object holding the drag anchor. Everyone was speculating on the same thing. As we all knew, even though the anchors were attached to the submarine, the sub was 310 feet long and we had to have the downhaul cable attached to the forward torpedo room hatch. Manipulating his own air hose and telephone cable on the deck of a submarine at 240 feet is a difficult problem for a diver. How close would he come to the forward torpedo room hatch even if he landed on the submarine? As Lieutenant Commander Momsen said, "To expect Ski to land by the proper hatch is like drawing to an inside straight.” Sibitsky went down at 1014 and everyone literally held his breath, and listened to the telephone box loudspeaker to get the first word from him. When he reported, "On the submarine" a great sigh of relief went up, but when a moment later he said, "Six feet from the forward torpedo room hatch" we knew that we had filled that inside straight. It was nothing short of a miracle to all of us.
The next move was to send the downhaul wire to him so that he could attach it to the ring in the center of the escape hatch. While he was waiting for the wire to slide down his shot line he looked around the escape hatch to make certain that nothing was lying on the steel circular ring onto which the rubber gasket on the bottom of the rescue bell had to fit. It was a good thing he did for there directly across the platelike surface of the ring was part of the broken telephone cable that had once been attached to the forward telephone buoy. It would have fouled the seat of the rescue chamber and we would have had a serious time, with hours lost in getting it clear. It was quite a haul for him to pull it clear. No one who has not been in a diving suit at sea or even under pressure in a diving tank at great depth has any idea how hard it is to do the simplest task. Not only is one very weak and awkward but one's mind functions so slowly that it is hard for the people topside, or outside the diving tank, to believe what they see. Slow motion, or no motion at all, is usually the order of the day unless tremendous will power is exerted toward getting the job done. No wonder that when the downhaul cable came sliding down his line and the shackle hit his hand he lost it as he cut the marline which held it fast the FALCON rose with a heavy swell and out of his hand flew the shackle. It sailed out of sight and he groped in bewilderment but of course couldn't reach it, The decision as to what to do was taken out of his hands by Momsen's order to pull the wire up and send it down again. This was accomplished in short order, and on the second try Sibitzky reported that he was shackling the downhaul wire to the swivel in the center of the hatch. In a couple of minutes more he reported that he was ready to come up. It was 1039 when he left the tender; it was now 1104. The job had taken 25 minutes including the time of descent and the sending of the downhaul wire to him twice.