Story by Ronald Mettraux, photos courtesy of Ronald Mettraux
Sometimes great projects begin with nothing more than a dream.
In 1996, I founded the dive center Scubaqua on the Caribbean island of Sint Eustatius, often called Statia. The island had spectacular marine life and beautiful reefs but was still relatively unknown to the international diving community. I believed Statia had enormous potential as a diving destination, but it needed something special to attract divers.
One night I had a vivid dream about a shipwreck lying on the seabed near the island. At the time it was simply a dream, and like most dreams I soon forgot about it. But a few months later something extraordinary happened. I received an email from AT&T. The company had an old cable-laying ship that had reached the end of its service life. Instead of scrapping it, they were offering it for the symbolic price of one dollar to anyone interested in turning it into an artificial reef.
The ship was the Charles L. Brown.
Only then did I remember the dream.
Bringing a 100-meter cable ship to a small Caribbean island was obviously not a simple project. My first step was to speak with the harbor master of Statia, Mr. Gittens. By an incredible coincidence, he had previously been captain of a cable-laying ship himself. He immediately understood both the opportunity and the technical challenges.
Together we approached the island’s governor at the time, Eugene R. Abdul. When we explained the potential benefits for the island, he asked one simple question: “Do you really believe this will be good for Statia?”
I answered that it could be something extraordinary for the island and for diving.
His answer was equally simple: “Then let’s do it.”
At that time my wife and I were running Scubaqua. It was a small operation, but over the years we had built strong relationships with the local community. The people of Statia had welcomed us warmly, and their support helped give credibility to this ambitious project.
Soon after, we travelled to Curaçao to inspect the vessel. At the dock the Charles L. Brown was tied up next to AT&T’s new cable ship. The crew was removing equipment from the old vessel and transferring everything that could still be used to the new one, including specialized cable-laying gear and even a small submarine used for underwater operations.
Most of the technical equipment had been removed, but the ship was far from empty. In the refrigerators we still found cans of Coca-Cola and beer, as if the crew had just stepped away.
There were also two special areas on board: the captain’s quarters and the owner’s suite. The owner’s suite was impressive, with a beautiful salon, elegant furniture, tables and comfortable beds, clearly designed for visiting executives from AT&T. As a gesture of appreciation for the project, I was allowed to keep the furniture from the owner’s salon, which remained on Statia for some time after the ship was sunk.
The ship still had to make one final journey, and there was one major problem: there was no crew left to sail it.
The vessel still had its original Fiat engines dating from 1954, and no one on site knew how to start them. Thanks to Mr. Gittens and his maritime contacts, we assembled a small team to bring the ship to Statia. They were extremely motivated, even if not all were specialists on that type of vessel. Against the odds, the engines were started and the Charles L. Brown began its final voyage across the Caribbean.
The trip from Curaçao to Statia took about a week.
Once the ship arrived off Sint Eustatius, the real work began. Before it could be sunk, the vessel had to be carefully cleaned to avoid environmental damage. One of the biggest tasks was removing the 28 tons of fuel oil the ship still had in its tanks. Fortunately, we found operators willing to take it for their own vessels, and the ship was finally ready to meet its final resting place.
Engineers from the global logistics and shipping company Stolt-Nielsen, experienced in offshore operations, vessel behavior, and marine engineering, kindly helped calculate how the vessel would behave during the sinking. Their analysis showed that the ship would almost certainly not settle upright unless large amounts of ballast were added — something our small project could not afford.
In the end we accepted that the ship would probably lie on its side. Having a wreck was far more important than its exact position.
We chose a safe sandy area at about 35 meters depth, away from natural reefs.
The day the Charles L. Brown was sunk was unforgettable. Boats gathered around to watch as the great vessel slowly began to take on water. At first the change was barely noticeable, but gradually the ship sank deeper and deeper.
After about one to two hours, the Charles L. Brown finally disappeared beneath the surface.
The next day I made the first dive. Exactly as predicted, the ship had settled on its side — but it was magnificent. Within just one week, fish were already gathering around the structure. Life in the ocean wastes no time.
Statia was already famous for its healthy reefs and extraordinary marine life, but the Charles L. Brown added an entirely new dimension to diving around the island.
The sinking of the Charles L. Brown and the growth of wreck diving on Statia got quite a bit of media attention at the time. Several French diving magazines covered the story between 2003 and 2006, including Plongée Magazine, Plongeurs International, and Océans, along with a number of other international diving magazines and publications.
As for Scubaqua, the dive center is still operating on St. Eustatius today. I founded Scubaqua in 1997 and owned and managed the business until I sold it in 2006. Since then, I have had no involvement in its ownership or management. I live thousands of kilometers away in Switzerland, and from time to time, I watch videos on YouTube of divers exploring the wreck.
