WARBIRDS

DISTANT MEMORIES COME FLOODING BACK AS A FAMILIAR OUTLINE EMERGES BENEATH ME. FROM 130 FEET, I CAN ALREADY SEE THE DISTINCT WING SHAPE OF A B-17 FLYING FORTRESS, THE MIGHTY WORLD WAR II BOMBER I BUILT MODELS OF AS A CHILD.

Back then I dreamed of one day becoming a pilot, until the sea replaced air as my all-consuming interest. It’s apt that these two passions should converge here in the crystal-clear Adriatic Sea. At 235 feet, we reach the seabed, where this remarkably intact war-bird rests on the sand as if it just landed, with scant evidence of the violence of its last flight. Moments pass before I snap out of my awe-inspired stare, reminding myself that I’m here to photograph it, and time at this depth is precious. The wingspan is enormous — more than 100 feet — and I can see