On the night of my near death experience, I was working as the Chief Engineer on the research vessel. We had just returned from a job evaluating a new remote operated submersible with the manufacture’s representative. He was a strong minded ex-marine.

We couldn't enter the small harbor of our home port because the sea was so rough that the ship would bottom out if a wave broke under the hull. The harbor entrance was shallow for our size ship. It was late at night when we stood a couple miles off shore and decided to enter the harbor after the storm broke the next day. That didn’t change the fact that the submersible representative was very anxious to get to shore so he could catch his flight from LA to home the next morning.
A couple of crew members wanted to go home as well and had decided they would meet the ship at the dock in the morning. Our research vessel cost millions of dollars per day to keep out to sea, so it was normal to send some crew home to keep cost down. Usually the deck crew takes clients and representatives into shore, but this was not a normal night. We knew the seas were rough. The captain thought that maybe the chief engineer should go along. So I was roped into this job. We figured we'd better break out the life vests just to be safe. We were trying to be cautious and could foresee someone possibly going over the side.
Being that all the members of the party going ashore were experienced divers and sub operators, used to being on the sea and in the water, we had to rummage around the boatswains locker to find the dusty old life vests stowed below. Most of us had not worn a vest in many years and these were the very old “Mae-West” style. These were the old fiber filled vests that were used in WW2.
We checked our position on the radar one last time, plotted a course to the harbor and loaded up everyone's gear. Late at night with fast moving clouds, it was dark out there and one of the crew members had wisely brought a flash light so we could be seen. Lowering the Zodiac into the ocean, the deck hand took the steering console to drive the boat and I took the bow to navigate. Normally I drove the small boats but for some reason I chose to let the deck hand drive that night because I felt I knew the harbor better. The boat had a V-4 engine and could really fly. This style of craft sat very low in the water and combined with the large swells and troths of the sea that night we could not see the lights of the harbor most of the time. When you are in a trough you can’t see the shoreline. It is only when you are on the crest of a swell can you try to find the harbor lights. We were having a hard time making out the Harbor buoys because they were bouncing around in the sea as well. Captain had left the ship’s deck lights on but we had lost sight of her as well. What we were trying to do was ride the crest of a swell to get our bearings and then move forward through the trough. It wasn't long before we lost our bearing on the harbor and had to keep adjusting our direction. We didn’t know we had been driven a mile south of the harbor by the wind and swells.
We found ourselves two miles off shore over a sand bar in a breaker zone. As a wave broke beneath us, suddenly we were falling. Everyone hung on and we were all able to stay in the boat as we fell 25 feet. We were lucky to be in one piece. I shouted over the roaring night for the deck hand to turn the boat around and head back out to sea where it was safer. The mate quickly responded, but the sky went black where the stars should have been. All I could see was a ridge of white foam that was now twenty five feet above our heads. I remember when I saw that foam I shouted to everyone "OH SHIT, THIS IS IT" and then the wave crashed down on us. It was an incredible amount of force in a split second. The wave folded the boat in half like a peanut butter sandwich. Some of the men were trapped inside. Three of the four inflatable pontoons were ruptured when the aluminum and fiberglass floor disintegrated. The motor snapped right off the transom.
I was catapulted from the bow into the ocean and the wave spun and tumbled me around as it crashed down on me. It was the most raging violent force I had ever felt attacking my body and I was separated from everyone instantly. I had lost all sense of direction as the ocean kept tossing me around like a doll. When I opened my eyes and blew some bubbles to get an idea which way was up, the sand and salt burned. It was so black I couldn't see the bubbles anyway.
I did not know which way was up. I had lost all sense of direction. My years of experience as a diver had taught me not to panic. So I knew not to swim for the surface because I could be swimming the wrong way. I could tell by the pressure in my ears that I was very deep in the water. So I waited and waited for my old May West life vest to take me to the surface. Boy was I glad we put these vests on. Now, I have to remind you, they’re no street lights two miles out to sea so it is very dark. The sea kept tossing me around and my lungs burned, longing to take a breath of air. The surface never came within my reach and as time passed the burning in my lungs lessoned but I was getting very cold.
I could tell my brain was starving for oxygen as a sort of euphoria came over me. I was trained to know what that euphoria was. In dive school, I had been forced to experience oxygen deprivation. Also, as a diver, I could hold my breath for quite a while. So I’m holding my breath and holding my breath. While I am doing that I begin to realize I might die. I started to have some regrets and some of my life’s concerns flashed before me. I remember thinking “Is my life insurance paid up?” and “Will my wife be taken care of when I am gone?” All those earthly concerns came to my mind. It’s kind of odd that you are thinking of everyday life stuff when there is a chance that death is so close to hand.
All my training came back to me as I am being tossed about. It seemed like a very long time that I was holding my breath but finally the euphoria overcame me and I tried to breathe the saltwater. I clearly remember the burning, choking and pain in my lungs. I breathed in water and went through the agony of dying. The agony melted away into darkness.
I was quite surprised by the darkness. What surprised me was the lack of noise. Remember the sea was roaring very violently and throwing me around like a rag doll; now there was an absence of that. It was like I was in a void but I couldn’t sense my body. It wasn’t an out of body experience, where I was observing my body. It was just this absolute black dark. I could see where it might be frightening for some people, but because my last experience in life was so violent, this actually felt rather calm, quiet and peaceful. On the west coast, with the currents from the North, the water is very cold. Yet, I was actually starting to feel warmth, like I was wrapped in a thick blanket. It gave me a sensation of total peace.  It didn’t feel like I was there for a long time, but I was very curious, thinking “Where am I?” I hadn’t come to the realization that I had died. I questioned if this was yet another stage in the euphoria.  The darkness was emptiness, not good or bad. It was lacking emotion. But I was comfortable. I was no longer in pain. I was totally alone.
I started to notice light and could see a brighter light off in the distance. It was slowly growing brighter. At the same time the light around me was brightening. It was as if I was surrounded by it, enveloped by it. It wasn’t clear to me if I was moving toward the brighter light in the distance or it toward me. It wasn’t a tunnel,  the light was over there and it was getting brighter and brighter. Again my curiosity was peaked. Like I said before, two miles off shore there are no lights. Beacons generally flash yet this was a steady light. As I got closer I started feeling it. I felt welcoming and love. I don’t know a better way to explain it other than as it kept getting brighter; the feelings kept getting more intense. I was being lifted up emotionally as well as moving toward it and as the Light got brighter it felt as if it was enveloping me. Taking me into it, I was becoming a part of it.
The Light was brighter than anything I had every experienced, yet I could still view it comfortably. I could see more clearly in this light than I could in life. In life, I’ve had to wear glasses since childhood but in this light, no correction was necessary. I could see more distance and detail than was possible with my physical eyes.
Now in the light, I found myself moving as if continuing to being drawn toward the brighter area in the light. I could not help myself. It seemed the natural thing to do and yet it felt familiar. A feeling of welcoming, welcome home, as well as that incredible sense of love came over me. I felt so happy and filled with joy. I was so comfortable and loved. The light continued to grow in intensity and I slowly started to realize that I didn’t have a body. I was a fragment of this light.
My physical body was gone; I was becoming light without a form. I didn’t judge this. I just accepted my change. This all seemed as if it was natural. I was just a fragment of light that was like the light around me and as the intensity of the light around me increased, the intensity of my fragment of light increased.
I was in awe of this and yet it felt so natural. It was a pretty smooth ride. As the light kept intensifying, this feeling of welcome and love kept intensifying. The love was incredibly empowering and was a part of everything.
I have been asked to describe what the light looks like. It was mostly a white light, but it had tinges of blues and gold’s. The light felt like it was constantly in motion even thought I was stationary.
Not only was I in awe of the love I was feeling, I suddenly had a greater understanding and knowledge of how everything worked. The universe made sense to me. If I pointed my thoughts in a certain direction, I would be faced with the answers. Unfortunately, I didn’t retain all that knowledge, but while I was in that light, it was all available for the asking. What was even more amazing was that I could see and think about more than one thing at a time. It was all so fast. It wasn’t like how our brain normally moves from one thought to the next. The information came from all directions instantly. I had no trouble comprehending all of that simultaneously.