Ed Cooper suiting up for a therapeutic oxygen dive, October 1998

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With great sadness I relay news of the death of Captain Ed Cooper. Ed died Wednesday, January 29 after a long illness. It is a tribute to the kind of man that Ed was that most people reading this page probably knew him personally. Within hours, I received three phone calls from people wanting to make sure I was aware of our loss. That sense of community is another tribute to the effect Ed had on those around him.

For those who did not know Ed first-hand, and for the sake of my own need to express my sadness, here are some thoughts. Captain Ed Cooper was first and foremost a diver. He served divers as a dive boat skipper of great competence, whose charges rarely returned to the dock without a big, stupid grin on their faces. Even if diving was terrible, people still had a good time being around Ed. Ed could tell jokes to a hostile crowd and have them giggling in minutes. Ed could get away with amazing things. Ed turned strangers and enemies into friends. He had a way of making everyone feel loved, accepted, and valued. What greater definition of being human is there?

Ed poured endless energy into work for the benefit of divers. Ed was, I'm told, the driving force behind the Northern California Scuba Retailers Association, which participated in several shows held at the Monterey Conference Center. He volunteered as the Diver Rep to the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary Advisory Council from the day the Sanctuary came into existence. When illness forced him to reduce his workload, he became the alternate, a position he held until just a few months ago. Ed was one of the originators of the idea of having a no-take area in the water in front of Cannery Row. The Ed Ricketts Park proposal became a "Marine Reserve" proposal and Ed became a central figure in The Friends of the Edward F. Ricketts Marine Reserve. "Tireless" seems too weak an adjective to describe Ed's work in this area. His passion inspired literally hundreds of people to join in that effort. I regret that Ed did not live to see his dream of a no-take area for recreation and marine life recovery realized. I am one of many who promised him to see it through.

"Inspirational" applies to the way Ed dealt with his illness, too. A couple times I dived with him, as he breathed pure oxygen to fight his cancer. Ed's therapeutic dives had to last 75 minutes; I was shivering after 45, and a relief safety-diver took over. But while we were "buddied up" Ed spent the time entertaining me by writing jokes on a slate, two words at a time. Ed's underwater laughter at his own punch line once looked enough like a convulsion that I began to think he was` succumbing to oxygen toxicity, a great danger when breathing pure 02 at depth. Ed was fine, of course. Back on the surface, when I told him about my moment of fear, he laughed all the harder. Years later, his body distorted with cancer and racked with pain, Ed was still cracking jokes, thinking about Ricketts Reserve, and making plans to be on the ocean that buoyed up his body and his spirits. The last time I saw him, Ed said he was disappointed that nobody had thrown a big party at his house lately. He allowed as how he couldn't do much to help organize or clean up, but cancer was no reason to stop having fun. The man simply did not know how to quit, or be a negative influence. I once told him his fight to live with cancer had inspired a lot of people (including me). His reply was that he was "just doing what I had to do. I didn't see any other choice." Ed was more alive while dying than a lot of people are when well.

Captain Ed's life was so full that I know I'm leaving out reams of important facts. I can't pretend to describe the "real" Ed Cooper, just the one I was privileged to call a friend. He maintained more relationships and acquaintances than perhaps anyone I know, and I'm sure each of those people would write a different impression. But we've all lost someone irreplaceable. A world without Ed Cooper in it is a smaller place. Ed drew up his plans and his dreams in great big circles; his lines of friendship extended to the perimeter of vast and overlapping circles. For all of us who knew him, our circle is smaller today.

As his phone machine always wished to me, "Happy and Safe Diving" to you, Ed Cooper. You're in a different ocean now. You left a lasting imprint on the one that was your back yard, and many, many of us who visit it.

The best ways I can think of to carry on Ed's work would be to do something for the diving community as a whole, or to help establish Ricketts Reserve. Information about The Friends of the Edward F. Ricketts Marine Reserve, is online at www.rickettsreserve.org
Mail can be sent to:
The Friends of the Edward F. Ricketts Marine Reserve
PO Box 3254
Monterey, CA 93940