Jacques Cousteau: The Sea King

  • Brad Matsen
Pantheon: 2009. 336 pp. $27.95 9780375424137 | ISBN: 978-0-3754-2413-7
Credit: ILLUSTRATION BY JONATHAN BURTON.

Pioneer of marine conservation Jacques-Yves Cousteau — affectionately dubbed JYC, Captain Cousteau, Captain Planet, the Sea King or simply 'the man with the red cap' — is known worldwide for his exploration of the ocean and his success in popularizing its wonders. Yet those who mistrust his fame often question whether his work was as valuable scientifically as he made out.

Cousteau's colourful life has already inspired several works in French and English, including two personal accounts by members of the crew of the RV Calypso, the legendary ship he used as an expedition vessel and research lab from 1950 until his death in 1997. The latest contribution is The Sea King by Brad Matsen, who has been writing books and documentary scripts about the sea and deep ocean for 30 years. Matsen pays only limited regard to Cousteau's scientific achievements, although he claims to go further than all previous biographies of the explorer, telling the complete story of his life and throwing new light on a complex personality. In this, at least, he largely succeeds.

The book contains many little-known details of events from Cousteau's life obtained from interviews with relatives and collaborators. Matsen accurately describes the creation of the aqualung, the first free-swimming underwater breathing equipment that Cousteau developed with the engineer Emile Gagnan in 1943, as well as his other technological contributions to underwater exploration. He describes many of the Calypso's expeditions, dwelling at some length on the people who played a prominent part in them alongside Cousteau. These include Philippe Tailliez and Frédéric Dumas, known with Cousteau as the three Mousquemers, or musketeers of the sea; his first wife and business partner Simone Melchior, also nicknamed La Bergère, or the shepherdess; his two sons; and other long-serving members of the Calypso crew.

Cousteau's story is mostly one of groundbreaking adventure, but Matsen is not afraid to delve into the dark side of his life and character, something previous biographers have been reluctant to do. There is plenty to chew on: his sometimes difficult relationships with his sons, his persistent financial problems, the fate of the Calypso (currently being refurbished in Brittany), the controversial role of his second wife Francine and the death of his son Philippe in a seaplane accident in 1979. He also chronicles the sad death from cancer of La Bergère, who was the soul of the Calypso and had a key role in many of its voyages.

One drawback of the book is that whereas Matsen covers most of the Calypso's expeditions in detail, inexplicably he devotes only two lines to Cousteau's Antarctic trip in 1972–73. According to previous accounts, the Calypso's crew considered this journey their most remarkable. It was one of the last on which Cousteau was personally present, directing operations with his wife Simone. It was also the most risky: the Calypso's wooden hull was not built for navigation in pack ice. The films that the crew shot of the Antarctic environment were seen by millions and the expedition was probably decisive in Cousteau's involvement in the Protocol on Environmental Protection to the Antarctic Treaty of 1991, which designated Antarctica as a nature reserve for 50 years.

The wide popularity of Cousteau's films and television series may have been one reason why he was sometimes accused of overplaying the scientific value of his work — a largely unfounded criticism born of jealousy and misunderstanding. True, Cousteau's expeditions usually included professional scientists, and their contributions often came second to the storytelling. Yet he made a hugely important contribution to marine science; first, by developing technologies that enabled people to make observations and carry out experiments in situ underwater; second, by the interest he aroused worldwide in the sea and the damage being done to it by humans; and third, by inspiring numerous young enthusiasts to become marine scientists and professional divers.

Matsen, like so many others, is rather seduced by Cousteau's popular image and ignores many of the scientific consequences of his work. He could have done more to highlight them. Most of Cousteau's first expeditions on the Calypso were predominantly scientific, and during the first years of his ownership she was the only French oceanographic ship, offering scientists the possibility of making direct observations down to 300 metres for the first time. Sponsored by the French National Centre of Scientific Research, his expeditions to the Mediterranean, the Red Sea and the Atlantic resulted in numerous publications, most of which are collected in the 11 volumes of the series Résultats Scientifiques des Campagnes de la Calypso, which contain important contributions to marine science. Cousteau was foremost an explorer, but his contribution to science was immense.