JILL HEINERTH - Explorer, Presenter, Author of “Into The Planet: My Life as a Cave Diver”

Jill Heinerth is a Canadian cave diver, underwater explorer, writer, photographer, and filmmaker. She is a veteran of over thirty years of filming, photography, and exploration on projects in submerged caves around the world. She has made TV series, consulted on movies, written several books and is a frequent corporate keynote speaker. Jill is the first Explorer in Residence for the Royal Canadian Geographical Society, recipient of Canada’s prestigious Polar Medal and is a Fellow of the International Scuba Divers Hall of Fame. In recognition of her lifetime achievement, Jill was awarded the Sir Christopher Ondaatje Medal for Exploration from the RCGS and the William Beebe Award from the Explorers Club.

THE CREATIVE PROCESS’ ONE PLANET PODCAST

You have this deep connection to the earth. We often distance ourselves from the planet and the consequences of our actions, but you have established this connection and strong intuition about the earth.

JILL HEINERTH

It's such a privilege swimming through these places. And I almost feel like I'm getting a secret peak into the body of the planet and that's a very precious and almost a sacred kind of collaboration where I get to experience this, I get to see this, but if I'm going to take these insanely challenging risks I need to make it worthwhile and share what I've seen so that other people have the benefit of understanding, a better conception of our connected planet. Both in the short term and in the long term scale as well. The sense of time can be warped by what's going on in my brain, so I do have this dance between left brain and right brain. Left brain pragmatic, right brain creative.

So if I'm managing a complicated life support device while I'm shooting stills or video underwater, there's a dual thing going on. The creative side of my brain loses all track of time, just as anyone that would ever sit down to paint or draw or even play on the computer. Time is just gone. But that left side of the brain has to keep track of time and constantly be monitoring my life support status. So there's a very present sense of time and forcing my brain back into keeping track of that, but these places that I swim through are timeless in the sense that many caves that I'm swimming through are like museums of natural history that inform us about things that happened in very ancient times on planet earth. So I'm swimming through this temporal portal to have a peek at ancient history.

Into The Planet: My Life as a Cave Diver

If I die, it will be in the most glorious place that nobody has ever seen. I can no longer feel the fingers in my left hand. The glacial Antarctic water to see through a tiny puncture in my formerly waterproof glove. If this water were one-tenth of a degree colder, the ocean will become solid. Finding the knife-edged freeze is depleting my strength, my blood vessels throbbing in a futile attempt to deliver warmth to my extremities. The archway of ice above our heads is furrowed like the surface of a golf ball, carved by the hand of the sea. Iridescent blue, Wedgewood, azure, cerulean, cobalt, and pastel robin’s egg meld with chalk and silvery alabaster. The ice is vibrant, right, and at the same time ghostly. The beauty contradicts the danger. We are the first people to cave dive inside an iceberg. And we may not live to tell the story.

ONE PLANET PODCAST

So you talked about working with other people and needing to get a certain shot or bring back data. Have you found that there's ever a disconnect between being yourself in these places, seeing these things, and other people who are just looking at the information that you bring back?

JILL HEINERTH

It's interesting because I'm an artist, a citizen scientist. I think of myself primarily as an artist, where many scientists that I work with are very pure applied scientists. And so when you are working for an academic institution, there's a very strict sort of chain of events, and protocols for observation, research, and writing for a peer review publication takes a long time. And at each step of the way that peer applied scientist needs to be quite specific and careful with their language. So they're not saying anything that can't be immediately and fully defended otherwise they might harm their reputation. Where an artist is really encouraged to sort of paint and imagine and just throw crazy ideas out there and brainstorm. So we might say things that are like, "Oh my gosh, did you see that skull? It's got silver teeth on it. Gee, I wonder if they were hiding their valuables inside this skull? Or whether that was a decorative application or whatever?" So we could throw out these crazy ideas, and the scientist is constantly going, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Let's wait. We need to get evidence, research... And so we kind of temper each other in that yin-yang sort of way. But I would propose the planet doesn't have time for some of that traditional science anymore, and we need to put a little bit more effort into involving artists and citizen scientists in contributing to that data stream and the idea stream that can be synthesized into solving some of the planet's greatest issues right now, like water issues and climate change.

ONE PLANET PODCAST

It’s challenging telling stories to the very youngest children and those who are not yet readers. Tell us about your book The Aquanaut.

JILL HEINERTH

I wrote a book called The Aquanaut for kids. I realized that our best hope for humanity is to ignite the imagination of kids. There were lots of things I was afraid of when I was a little kid. I was afraid of the dark. I was afraid to go down the basement stairs, and yet now I live most of my entire career in the dark, in places that would make people feel terrified and claustrophobic. So a lot of those young life experiences that I had I actually turned into my superpowers. And I want to encourage children to know that anything they dream of that they can make it come true with hard work and dedication. I talk all the time to groups, big and small, and I still get asked by people, "Do you believe in climate change?" And I'm like, it's not a question of belief. It's science. It's happening. And although I might feel frustrated, I try to never communicate that frustration. I recognize that for whatever reason, someone just doesn't have the knowledge. So maybe it hasn't been taught at school. Maybe they've become subjected to the very strong voices of a political entity that has steered them away from believing in climate change. And so I try to take people at wherever they are and try to just very carefully and without judgment share what I've seen and my experiences and try to gently guide them towards better information sources because we can't just be polarized. We can't just call each other names when we don't understand. We have to help people to understand, put out a hand, and, hopefully, bring them onto our side, onto a better understanding of the science of what's occurring.

This interview was conducted by Mia Funk and Ellen Efstathiou with the participation of collaborating universities and students. Associate Interviews Producer on this podcast was Ellen Efstathiou.

Mia Funk is an artist, interviewer and founder of The Creative Process & One Planet Podcast (Conversations about Climate Change & Environmental Solutions).