In April, we reported that a New Zealand diver lost
sight of his charter boat and drifted three days in 68ºF
water before he was rescued. Robert Hewitt, 38, a former
NZ Navy diver, explained how he survived his 30km drift
up and back through Cook Strait in a conversation with
Dave Moray, editor of Dive New Zealand Magazine. This is a
synopsis of the conversation.
“At the end of my first dive,” said Hewitt, “I indicated
  my position by holding my fluro-green catch bag above
  my head and was picked up. I didn’t have a safety sausage.
  I have never dived with one.”
However, surfacing from his second dive, Hewitt saw
  his charter boat Shock Wave (from the Manawatu Dive
  Centre) in the distance. He lifted his catch bag and blew
  the whistle on his BCD. “I was down current and down
  wind in a half meter swell so it was difficult for the guys
  to see or hear me. The waves were getting higher so I
  ditched my weight belt.  
  
    | I decided to dump my regulator and cylinder, but as soon as I’d let it go something inside of
 me said ‘get it, get it!’ but it was too late.”
 | 
“I was thinking ‘okay, I’ve still got the BC and the regulator
  and the bright orange cylinder, an excellent visual
  aid. It’s got 70 bar (1015 psi) in it that could be useful.
  The inflated BC gave me support when lying on my back.
I decided to keep these items.”
When a search plane appeared, “I held up my catch
  bag open wide in the hope they would see the fluro-green
  color. I also grabbed my knife and tried to reflect light
  into the pilot’s eyes.” After the aircraft’s second pass, “I
  rolled over on my stomach so that the orange cylinder was
more visible.” However, the pilot never spotted him.
As the current swept him north, Hewitt decided not to
  try to swim to land, “though it was killing me not to swim.
  The first thing about sea survival is don’t expel any more
  energy than necessary. To swim, I would need to ditch my
  BC, regulator and cylinder, which I was reluctant to do.”
  Instead, he lay on his back to conserve energy. “I was still
  getting pushed out and it took some strong thinking to
  convince myself that this was the correct plan.”
 Hewitt recalled his Navy training, which had included
  spending the night at sea in a life raft. “The course was
  about conserving energy, keeping yourself in the huddle
  position (on back, lift knees up, put arms underneath the
  armpits and go with the current). I knew my body’s heat
  exit points: head, crotch, feet and underneath the armpits.”
  Dr. Simon Mitchell, a columnist for Dive New Zealand  points out that shipwreck survivor stories include tales
  of others who simply became exhausted and essentially
  allowed themselves to drown.
 Once he accepted that he would be drifting through
  the night, Hewitt recalled, “I yelled to my loved
  ones and that gave me a mental picture of them.
  It gave me hope.” He prayed to God and to the
  Maori gods of the sea for comfort. “It seemed
  that everything was all right. Whatever pathway
  I would take, whether I would survive or die,
  everything would be all right. That was the defining
  point right there, because I was happy within
  myself.”  
During the night Hewitt realized that he sapped energy
  when he moved his legs. “The only thing I could do
  was lie on my back, cross my feet, keep my mask on and
  nod off to sleep – power napping! I’d wake up because
  my mouth would be open and water would slam into my
  mouth and wake me. Those power naps got me through
  the night. When I saw the sun come up Monday morning
  it was a joyous moment because I had conquered my
  worst fear. I’d got through the night and was still alive.”  
On the second day, he began eating the crayfish and sea urchins he had taken during his dive. “During scattered
showers I lay on my back and opened my mouth
to catch what water I could. I had to take my mask off,
turn it upside down and hold it up to grab whatever
water I could, then tip it into my mouth. I started squirting/
purging the regulator into my mouth from a distance
because I knew that there was moisture in the air. I had
learnt this from the Navy.”
 As the day warmed up, Hewitt said, “I could feel myself
  dehydrating quickly. My body was starting to go into
  shock because of the heat and energy I’d lost. I knew I
  had to cool off and keep active so I took off my diving
  hood and my gloves and put them in the BC pocket. I
  then took off my BC, then my jacket. I lay on the BC
  trying to hide my face from the baking sun. I decided
  to dump my regulator and cylinder that had only about
  seven bar (100 psi) left. I filled the BC as much as I could
  and then dumped the rest. As soon as I’d let it go something
  inside of me said ‘get it, get it!’ but it was too late.”  
When he awoke on the second day, Hewitt knew, “I
  had to keep my toes and fingers moving because if they
  stop moving the body would shut down the extremities
  and look after the main core. These were the little things
  I learned on the parade ground when standing still for
  long periods. It stops you from fainting!”  
When immersed in water, normal physiology works
  against you, says Mitchell. The cold (which constricts
  blood vessels in the limbs) and the loss of a gravity effect (which normally causes blood to pool in the legs) meant
that most of the blood volume is ‘squeezed’ into the
central circulation. One way the body regulates its water
balance is by sensing a stretch of central blood vessels and
the heart chambers. With blood shifting into the central
circulation, these stretch reflexes become activated, telling
the brain that the body has an excess of fluid in the
blood vessels. Subsequently, the brain provides less stimulus
to the kidneys to conserve water and they produce
more urine (why one always wants to pee during a dive).
So, an immersed diver dehydrates faster than someone
who simply does not have access to drinking water.
Beginning to hallucinate, Hewitt took off his hood and
  gloves “to feel the cold water – trying to stay with reality.”
  The straps of his Apollo Bio-Fins dug into his Achilles
  tendons. “I couldn’t handle it anymore. As soon as I
  chucked them away I knew I needed them so I swam after
  them and put them back on. I didn’t put the straps on…
  and they came off my feet – lost.” (After he was rescued,
  he needed skin grafts to repair the damage.)  
Feeling delirious and disorientated is consistent with
  a core body temperature drop to 32C – 33C (down from
  the normal 37C). A further loss of two or three degrees
  would have resulted in unconsciousness and drowning.
  This would have happened quickly because Mr. Hewitt
  removed his wetsuit top in his confused state.  
Because of his Navy training, he did not make the
  error of drinking sea water, which contains salt at a high concentration. The body actively defends how much salt
it carries, so the kidneys excrete excess salt. However,
kidneys are not good at concentrating salt in the urine, so
to excrete seawater salt, the body adds water from its own
body reserves to produce urine dilute enough for our kidneys
to handle. By drinking sea water we lose more water
than we gain!
Because an immersion victim becomes progressively
  dehydrated, he can develop catastrophically low blood
  pressure and cardiac arrest if pulled from the water by his shoulders in the upright position. The sudden gravity
causes blood to redistribute to the legs suddenly. Luckily,
Hewitt was rescued by old buddies, professional naval colleagues,
who understood this and kept him horizontal.
Hewitt says three things helped him survive: his love
  for his family and fiancé, his respect for the sea, and his
  Navy training “and the core values the Navy teaches.” His
  advice to others who might find themselves adrift: “Have
  confidence in yourself, your ability and don’t panic. Stop,
  take a breath and assess every situation as it comes.”