I ended up in the sub because I had a very simple idea: put a story together about the "Lake Union Boats Afloat" show. But the show -- even though it features some unbelievable, huge, beautiful yachts -- is, basically, like a big car lot. It's a bunch of boat dealers hoping to deal a bunch of boats.

So when I found out that one of the ships for sale was a submarine, I thought Great! A different angle! I mean...how many times do you have a chance to trot down and browse for a submarine?

All the arrangements were made...and on the appointed day, my photographer Bill Skok (rhymes with "Coke") and I met with Ellis Adams, the owner of the sub. Because it's a two-person sub, Bill and I had a two-part plan: Bill would take a ride with his camera -- a typical news photog's camera...the kind you see them toting on their shoulder -- and then I would take a ride with a little hand-held mini-cam.

I should have known there was a problem right from the start: I could barely get down the hatch. I think that was a combination problem: the small hatch, the big belly. Anyhow...once I finally got in...I did as instructed and shimmied to the front of the sub. That's where the passenger sits; Ellis -- a small guy, an experienced sub-man -- popped in after me and settled into his skipper's chair.

He was checking and double-checking stuff...talking the whole time to his partner on the dock. "Air-locks? Check! Pumps? Check! Rudder? Check!" It gave one a sense of calm...a sense of confidence.

While Ellis was going through the preliminaries, I looked around (not that there was much to look at). The first thing I noticed -- I kid you not -- was the skull and crossbones sticker over to the right. Nooo big deal. Ahem.
After Ellis debriefed us with the do's and don't's of the sub, we decided that I would go first.

Anyway. Ellis announced that he was closing the hatch...and then he proceeded to give me a few jobs. I was going to read out some numbers from the gauges in front of me. Okay...no problem. This was starting to be fun. The Jolly Roger was cute!

I noticed from a gauge that we were diving. Or, more precisely, we were sinking. Because it wasn't like a movie dive you see the submarines do. It was like a leaf just popping off a branch and slowly floating down. And we floated down so slowly...so gently...that I didn't even notice when the sub touched the bottom of Lake Union. Ellis said, "Okay, we're on the bottom," and I quickly looked from the gauge I was monitoring...out the front window...to see a cloud of muck rising and blocking the view out the front-cone glass.

Now, I should make something clear right here: I'm not claustrophobic. I don't have a thing about small, tight spaces. If somebody wanted to lock me in a trunk, fine with me. I'd take a nap. So being in that small, tight sub was nooooo problem.

However.

Once we were on the bottom, it was time, of course, to get going. Which meant blowing some of the water out of the tanks (replacing the water with air)...floating up a bit...and then taking off to sight-see around the lake. It was gonna be just like Yellow Submarine. Bright-colored fishes! Pink air bubbles! Music! Fun!

But no.

We sat for a few moments -- Ellis talking to his partner top-side, me using the mini-cam to take shots of my feet...and, shooting over my shoulder backwards, shots of Ellis...talking to his partner. Only Ellis wasn't really talking to his partner. He was TRYING to talk to him. The radio signal was bad, it was weak. "Switching to satellite phone!" Ellis announced. Good. We're gonna get going, I think. "Hello? Can you hear me? Hello?" Ellis says into the satellite phone. No. The guy standing safely on the dock couldn't really hear Ellis. The reception was lousy. So, basically, we had no communication with our friends up there.

At this point, I noticed that I was sweating a bit. I put the mini-cam down and took off my jacket. I picked up the mini-cam. I continued to shoot.

Ellis was now sort of talking to himself and flipping switches and pushing buttons...and every now and then...asking me, "Are you all right?" He was a good skipper. That Ellis. Great skipper!

I said, "So what are you trying to do?"

"I'm going to blow the water out of the tanks so we can get up off the bottom," Ellis says. "Keep your eye on that depth-gauge. Tell me when it moves."

Great! I think. We're about to get going. Ellis pushes a button. Loud noise. Sub chamber loud. Grinding/buzzing noise. Loud. Loud sub chamber.

"WHAT'S THE GAUGE READ!?" Ellis barks.

"IT'S ON ZERO!" I call back.

Ellis takes his hand off the button. Sub-chamber-silence. "Okay. That's okay. No problem. No problem. We're cool. Are you all right?" he asks.

"Yeah. But, you know, this is kinda weird," I say.

"Oh, don't worry. I can get us to the top in two seconds if we need to," he says, to reassure me. And I am reassured. However, I am also breathing sort of shallowly. I mean shallow. I mean, I'm noticing my breathing. Why am I noticing my breathing? Why am I sweating? Why are we not moving? And while we're at it...why am I in this cramped, hot, two-person submarine with the skull and crossbones laughing at me, staring me in the face?

Ellis tries to talk to his buddy top-side...they exchange a few verbs, nouns and half-words through the static...and I just sit and wait. I'm still taping things at this point...but I'm starting to cramp up a bit. I mean, I've been holding this camera out in front of me...over my shoulder...doing whatever I can to "get the story"...and I'm getting tired. But then I realize: my chest is kind of tight. I was sweating more. I was really breathing shallow. I was, I realized, getting very stressed. Now, I'm just chunky enough...and out-of-shape enough...that a tightening feeling in the chest causes a wee bit of alarm. I worked to calm myself...I took deeper breaths. We're cool, I tell myself. We're cool. EVEN THOUGH ELLIS KEEPS PUSHING THAT BUTTON, AND THAT GRINDING, HOWLING, SCREECHING NOISE RATTLES MY EARS AND FILLS THE SUB, WE'RE COOL!!!!!!!

"Are you all right?" Ellis asks again. Yes, I say. "But I do want to go to the surface pretty soon."

Ellis keeps flipping switches. More buzzing. I forget about the mini-cam. I forget about the story for KING 5. I start to try and remember what my wife looks like. What I last said to her. I believe I did the dishes last.

Ellis keeps saying soothing words. "Okay...no problem," he sort of mumbles. "Oh, that. Umm-hmm." He's not talking to me. And he's definitely not talking to his partner up top.

Are you okay, he asks.

I'M NOT OKAY, my body says.

Yeah, I croak. "But I think I want to get to the top now."

NO PROBLEM, Ellis announces. And then -- after what seems like 15 more minutes (it was probably more like 60 seconds) -- Ellis says, "Okay, keep your eyes on the depth-gauge! Call it out to me!"

"Zero!" I scream. "It's not moving!"

Buzzing. Grinding. NOISE. Sub chamber. Sweating. Wife.

"WHAT'S IT SAY NOW?!" Ellis shouts.

"NOTHING!" I shout back.

Buzzing. Grinding.

Ellis: "READING!"

The Patient: "NOTHING!"

Pause. (More grinding/buzzing.)

Patient: "WAIT! IT'S MOVING! WE'RE AT TWO!"

Buzzing. Grinding.

"SEVEN!"

"GOOD! GOOD!" Ellis says...happy, I'm sure, that his reporter/passenger is heading up.

Passenger/Reporter/Patient: "15! 22! 32!"

And suddenly, light fills the sub. We'd broken the surface! We were back! The radio crackled.

"Okay, we gotcha," said his top-side partner!

"Roger!" says Ellis.

Jolly Roger looks at me, still laughing.

I pick up the mini-cam...turn it back on...and finish shooting my part of the story. A story that I hope to never experience again!

(P.S. Thanks to Ellis. He was a good sport, a great guy, and he really was a pro. But, hey: the pump just didn't work like it was supposed to. That's the truth. And that's what caused me to swear off submarines. But not submarine sandwiches. Although those should probably come first, because that hatch sure was hard to get back out of.)