Every so often, an assignment comes along that really gets the creative juices flowing. When
the art director of National Geographic called and asked if I'd be interested in working on
an illustration about the confederate submarine CSS Hunley, I jumped at the chance.

By this time, I had been working with National Geographic for six years and many of the projects I had worked on involved sunken boats:
the Titanic, the USS Maine and the Arizona. These projects all presented their own challenges. But to work on the Hunley was different.
For starters, the Hunley was within reach geographically, having recently been discovered off the coast of South Carolina.
It also had a great deal of mystery. While a good deal had been written about the boat, most of the 'information' was speculative.
 
The starting point was a movie called "The Hunley" that Ted Turner had made. The Friends of the Hunley had the mock-up
of the sub used in the movie and were using it as a display traveling around the country. The display's next stop was Columbus, Georgia,
about 3 hours from where I was living, so I headed on out to see Hollywood's version of the sub.
The 'Turner' Submarine, which would turn out surprisingly enough, was quite accurate.

The 'Turner' sub was created from notes the sub's designer jotted down about 20 years after the Civil War and from what little of the sub could be seen
and surveyed by the National Park Service and NUMA. One funny note is that the guide at the Columbus exhibit told me to ignore the offset crank
as this was something done to give the actors more space inside the sub. The shaft, I was told, would go straight through the back of the sub,
much like the designer's sketches. (Guess what? We later learned that Hollywood got it right. The crank was offset and a chain and pulley system
was used so the REAL sailors could have room to crank the handles.)
My next stop was a trip to Washington, D.C., to meet with the art director and compare notes. The Hunley raising schedule was highly speculative.
It was hurricane season and they wanted to get moving before the next storm, but delays kept pushing the project back.
While I was in D.C., the news came that they'd be raising her in the next day or two.
With a moment's notice, I drove 10 hours south to try to get to the site on time.
National Geographic was well represented in the area, with the magazine, TV, and website divisions all having staff present on scene.
From the magazine team, the photographers, writer, art researcher, and I began to position ourselves for the big moment. We took a workboat out
to the site the day before the scheduled raising. Upon arriving to the lift barge site, the team was transfered from the workboat via a cargo net to the barge.
The lift barge was located about 7 miles offshore.
To get to the barge, we had to take a ride in a cargo net lifted by the barge's crane.
On the lift barge, the photographers scoped out their spots for the next day, while the art researcher and I poked around and asked questions
about the lift procedure. It was a great opportunity to see first-hand the gear they were using to haul the sub.
After an hour, we headed back to shore to get some sleep and prepare for the long day ahead of us.
The researcher and I were assigned to a Friends of the Hunley research vessel for the lift. Due to tides and vessel speed, we left port at 3:00 a.m.
The Friends of the Hunley vessel was filled with folks of all walks of life. All had played a role in the discovery of the sub or in support of
the work being done with the raising of the sub.
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Daybreak on the research vessel. At right, Don hanging out and waiting for the 'big moment.'

As the sun came up, all of Charleston came out to witness the raising of the Hunley. The assembled flotilla included sailboats, powerboats,
and even a kayak. The waters around the barge were filled as boats crowded in to get a better view.

The top of the coach roof as the countdown began.
Finally the announcement was made that the divers had secured all the cables and the lift was to begin. Horns blared from all the surrounding ships
as the sub broke surface for the first time in over 150 years.
Every type of watercraft came out to watch the lift.

With the sub out of the water and safely ensconced at the research lab, the real work on the illustration could begin.
Much of the work done to this point was purely speculative and we didn't think much of it would stand up.
Fortunately, much of the exterior work did pan out with minor variations. It was now time to dive into the innards.
Very little was known about the interior, and as the team began to remove the exterior plating, we followed their progress closely.
After the sub was excavated I made a trip to the Charleston lab and spent a day with their archeologists on the finds they had made.
I photographed, audiotaped, and wrote notes, all of which I would need to help recreate the interior of the sub.
The interior of the Hunely, left. Don standing near the propeller, right.

The sub was kept in a huge tank and usually was underwater. During the periods that the archeologists worked, the tank was drained and the sub was kept wet by spraying water. All those working on the sub wore jumpsuits to prevent the site from contamination.
Once all the data was collected (thanks to the excellent work done by the archeologists), I began to build my re-creation of the sub.
With the help of the art researcher and feedback of subject matter experts and the people at the lab, the illustration finally fell together.
While I take pride in the final product, it really was a team effort. The art directors who worked on the project improved it with every note and suggestion. The art researcher was incredibly patient as new information would come from the lab as the mud was removed inch-by-inch.

Final illustrations as seen in National Geographic