Underwater Photography

My obsession with underwater stroke analysis tools probably started when I first qualified for the State Championship swim meet in high school. The meet was held at the University of Kansas Natatorium, which had an underwater window in the side of the pool. I thought it was incredibly cool that you could go downstairs under the bleachers and watch people swimming by. I tried to figure out what the fast guys were doing that made them fast...but was never able to master the techniques myself.

But it planted the seed in my mind. When I started coaching several years later, I always wished for a good way to analyze strokes from an underwater view. Oh sure, I could just hold my breath and watch from the bottom of the lane...and I still find that a valuable tool...but I couldn't show what I saw to anyone else. What I needed was underwater videography.

More about that in a moment. First, I'll share my other KU window story from the high school State Meet.

For the 400 yard freestyle, I was in an outside lane, very close to that window I mentioned. (Yes, I know -- the 400 was replaced by the 500 a LONG time ago. But yeah, I really am that old. Someday I'll tell you about swimming our home meets in a 20-yard pool...where the 100 race took 5 lengths to complete, and the IMers swam a 160 instead of a 200. Those were primitive times, indeed.) When the gun went off and I did my patented bellybuster racing dive, I instantly realized that I had not tied my Speedo drawstring to the proper tightness level. Oops.

I could see vague human shapes behind the glass, and knew that people were watching the race through the underwater window. I should've been 100% focused on my race effort, but instead found myself wondering whether anyone was laughing at my not-completely-secured sagging swimsuit.

I did not hit my goal time, and did not come anywhere close to making it into the finals. There are those who would argue that my lack of talent and speed are to blame, but I know that my slow performance was totally caused by the presence of that silly submerged window.

The irony is that the very same venue became the site of my modesty-free participation in the fad known as "Streaking" just a little over one year later. That's an interesting story, too -- involving a small moment of fame accompanied by a critique of my running form -- but it will have to wait for another time.

The topic of today's post is underwater videography, remember?

As everyone knows, I partnered with cinematic genius Doug Smith to make Super 8 movies that featured members of the Wichita Swim Club displaying their acting and martial arts skills. The first purchase I made with my summer job money was a Canon Super 8 movie camera, which I also used to shoot hours and hours of really bad swim meet footage. I even shot movies of water skiing in what was that era's precursor to today's "action cam."

Super 8 was a noticeable improvement over Regular 8mm movies, but the quality was still pretty rotten, and the price of film and processing tended to suppress unbridled creativity. I cannot tell you how excited I was when videotape recorders finally dropped into my price range. I bought the Canon outfit shown here for about three grand. At 2 hours per VHS tape, the price of media was no longer an issue.

What was a consideration, though, was the bulkiness of the setup. It was NOT a camcorder; you needed both the heavy camera and the big brick of a recorder unit to take movies. But now that I had the thing, I wanted to figure out a way to take underwater video with it.

My first attempt (and oh how I wish I had a photo of it) was a homemade Plexiglas periscope. I am sorry to say that I don't remember who actually fabricated the thing, but I designed it with a camera-mount platform at the top and a couple of mirrors inside a rectangular tube that could be submerged while keeping the camera and recorder deck dry. It was an excellent design except for one minor flaw...I had failed to consider the Archimedes principle.

The dang thing floated. Actually, that's too mild of a description -- the submerged part of the tube pushed upward with about 30 pounds of force. To counteract this, I filled all available space below the mirror with a sand bag, but it was still a major muscular effort to handle the thing long enough to shoot any usable swimming video. Plus, the stresses from the camera, the sand, and the waves in the water caused the Plexiglas joints to give out after just a few uses.

The Mark II took a different approach, and I built this one myself. It was merely a topless Plexiglas box that was large enough to hold the tape deck and the camera, along with enough lead weights to make it buoyancy neutral. I glued extra supports on each of the seams, and it held together through repeated uses. But even though I weighted it so I wouldn't have to push it down like the Mark I, it was still a chore to manhandle the thing to fight the waves of a passing swimmer. And transporting it (and all the lead weights) was enough to make me ponder designs for the Mark III.

Fortunately, advances in camera technology came to my aid. I was able to buy a JVC VHS-C camcorder that was smaller and lighter than the Canon camera alone. I enlisted the help of Jeff Alleman, an engineer who worked at NREL, and together we designed a sealable PVC unit that could hold the entire camera and allow you to take it as deep underwater as you wanted. Of course, it was also heavy, because we had to duct-tape enough lead weights around it to counteract the buoyancy. It's the contraption on the right in this photo:



The other two cameras pictured here are what I've used since the VHS-C format went out of style. The center unit is the Oregon Scientific ATC5K Helmet Cam, which works great, but suffers from a low-resolution picture and a postage-stamp viewscreen. The Pentax camera on the left is the one that leaked when I forgot to get the battery compartment door fully closed. It's OK, but still isn't as robust and high-quality as I'd like.

When I was shopping for the Pentax, I considered the GoPro Hero, but opted for the less expensive offering. I have now become convinced that the GoPro would've been worth the extra expense. I'll probably end up getting one of those at some point. But the good news is that multi-unit recording rigs, bulky homemade housings, and underwater windows are no longer necessary. There are many good options available for a swim coach these days. I just need to make more money so I can keep trying to upgrade my equipment.

Anyway, I suppose you'd want to see some sample underwater video after that long, drawn-out, and pointless stroll down cinememory lane. But not today, my friends. Instead, I shall subject you to more photos from my climbing trip. Feel free to marvel at my impressive mountaineering talents, and have a great day!