Amy Carrill, Peak to Peak.     The Nederland Community Library recently acquired a wonderful new non-fiction book by James Nestor, entitled Deep: Freediving, Renegade Science, and What the Ocean Tells Us About Ourselves. It is available at the library in hardback format, as well as on the Nooks that can be checked out by any patron. (Each Nook also contains more than a hundred other titles, both non-fiction and fiction, spanning a range of genres, interests, and topics.)

Many, if not most, books about current human-ocean interaction examine the deleterious impact of the modern world on the flora and fauna residing within the ocean. Deep, however, is another kind of book entirely. It takes as its main topic the lovely and almost atavistic experience of freediving, a single person descending below the surface, down farther and farther into the blue depths. No air tank, no other technological contrivance, no barrier between that person and the vast, hushed ocean all around.

The physiological effects of freediving begin to occur immediately beneath the surface, and intensify quickly. At sixty feet “the heart beats at half its normal rate. Blood starts rushing from the extremities towards… the body’s core. The lungs shrink to a third of their usual size. The senses numb, and synapses slow. The brain enters a heavily meditative state.”

But sixty feet is just the beginning. At three hundred feet, “we are profoundly changed... The organs collapse. The heart beats at a quarter of its normal rate… Senses disappear. The brain enters a dream state.”

This may sound drastic, even terrifying. But for those people who freedive, the experience is exhilarating verging on mystical, a profound and pure peace unlike any they’ve experienced on land. And, surprisingly, despite the extreme physiological changes, freediving (responsibly) doesn’t harm the human body one whit. It would seem, as Nestor posits, that people are fully equipped, through the intricacies of evolution, to descend well beneath the surface. Many coast-dwelling cultures, going back to ancient times, for example, would freedive to obtain food and other useful items.

From the discussion about freediving, Deep then descends further, past the realms at which humans can dive safely. Each succeeding chapter describes the ocean at a greater depth, 800 feet to 2,500 feet to 10,000 feet, and so on. At each waypoint Nestor describes the creatures who live there, and how they’ve specifically adapted to survive amidst crushing pressures and utter darkness. Some of these critters seem more mythical than real, astonishing in their elegantly simple survival techniques.

Deep is one of those rare books that truly immerses a reader in another world. It captures the beauty and fathomless mystery of the ocean, which appears deceptively two-dimensional to us humans who view it from the surface. To delve far beneath the surface, come by the library and check out the book. And, if you choose a Nook, peruse the many other volumes for ones that capture your imagination.