Building Trust Underwater
What dive team operations taught me about leadership in any high-stakes field
When you're underwater, communication is severely limited.
You can't have a long conversation. You can't ask clarifying questions in real time. You can't pull someone aside to talk through a concern. The bubble of air on your back is finite, the conditions are dynamic, and the only communication tools you have are hand signals, a dive slate and whatever you established before you got in the water.
I spent a chunk of my career on dive operations. And what I learned about leadership in those environments has shaped everything I now teach about building trust in any team — in any field.
Why Field Operations Are a Trust Crucible
Most people think of trust as something built slowly over time through small interactions — coffee conversations, casual check-ins, the gradual accumulation of reliability. That's true. But in field operations, you need something different. You need trust that holds up when communication breaks down. Trust that survives stress, fatigue, surprise. Trust that allows people to make split-second decisions on each other's behalf and know those decisions will be honored.
You don't build that kind of trust during an emergency. You build it before the field — in the briefings, the debriefings, the conversations on the surface, the slow accumulation of shared experience.
And here's what I want every leader to understand: the same dynamic plays out in any high-stakes field environment. Marine science. Environmental fieldwork in remote areas. Chemistry operations with hazardous materials. Earth science in difficult terrain. Wildlife biology in dangerous habitats. The science changes. The principles don't.
What My Dive Team Did Right
My dive team built trust over time, working together repeatedly. None of it was magic. It was practice.
We talked openly above water.
About what worked and what didn't. About how we each preferred to communicate. About what we were each good at and what we struggled with. About what we needed from each other. These weren't formal sessions. They were ongoing conversations that built up a shared understanding nobody had to invent in the moment.
We briefed thoroughly before every operation.
Roles. Sequence. Contingencies. What we'd do if X happened. Who would call adaptations and how they'd signal them. We didn't just talk about Plan A. We talked about Plans B and C and what we'd do if something we didn't plan for showed up. By the time we got in the water, nothing was a surprise — including how to respond to surprises.
We listened to each other's feedback.
Not just senior to junior. Not just experienced to new. Everyone's observations mattered. The newest diver might catch something the most experienced diver missed because they were paying attention to things experience teaches you to stop seeing. Active listening above water was part of what kept us safe below it.
We debriefed after.
What went well, what didn't, what we'd do differently. No blame. Just honest assessment. The debrief was where the next operation got better, where small frictions got named before they became big ones, where the trust kept accumulating.
We built trust through experience together.
Repetition mattered. The same divers working together over and over learned each other's habits, signals, and instincts. The team became more than its members because of the time invested.
We challenged each other.
Building a team means each teammate has a role. Those roles can change over time and when experienced members of the team challenge newer members to take on larger, more challenging roles, it shows you trust them. They are then able to gain more experience and your team becomes well-rounded, more diverse, and can take on even larger operations.
Why Trust Mattered Most When We Couldn't Communicate
Once we got underwater, all of that preparation became the foundation we operated on.
If something went wrong — a free-flowing regulator, an unexpected current, an entanglement — we couldn't pause and discuss. We had to act. And acting required trusting that everyone else was acting too, in ways consistent with what we'd agreed on, with awareness of what the others were doing, with judgment we'd come to rely on.
That trust kept us safe. Not luck. Not technology. Not even technical skill, ultimately. The trust that came from doing the work before the work.
What This Means for Non-Marine Science
I want to be clear: this isn't a marine science lesson. The principles transfer directly to any field operation where:
• Communication will be limited (remote locations, harsh conditions, equipment noise)
• Real safety risks exist
• Time-sensitive decisions have to be made by individuals on the ground
• People are relying on each other for safety, not just productivity
• Equipment must function reliably and people must respond to it correctly
Think about the environmental scientist sampling in a remote watershed. The chemistry technician handling hazardous reagents. The wildlife biologist working in dangerous habitats. The geologist on a difficult slope. The field epidemiologist in a disease outbreak. The astronomer at a high-altitude observatory.
Every one of those situations involves the same fundamental dynamic: a team that has to operate when communication is constrained, where safety matters, where individual judgment depends on shared preparation.
The leadership work is the same. Brief thoroughly. Listen to feedback. Establish clear expectations. Debrief honestly. Build trust through repeated work together.
What If You're New to Leading Field Operations?
If you've just been put in charge of a team that operates in any high-stakes environment, here's what I'd focus on first:
Don't skip the briefing because the team is experienced.
Experienced people sometimes assume they don't need detailed briefings. But the briefing isn't just about communicating information. It's about reaffirming shared understanding, surfacing any new wrinkles, and giving everyone a chance to raise concerns before they matter. Even with people who've worked together for years, the briefing is where trust gets refreshed.
Cover contingencies, not just the plan.
The plan rarely survives contact with reality. Field conditions change. The thing you didn't plan for happens. Briefing only on Plan A means nobody knows what to do when the situation shifts. Walk through what could go wrong, who decides if it does, and how they'll signal the change.
Make space for the quietest voice.
The most experienced people on your team usually feel comfortable speaking up. The newest ones often don't. But the newest people sometimes see things the rest of you have stopped seeing. Build briefings and debriefings where everyone is expected to contribute, not just the senior voices.
Honor the debrief.
When the operation is over, people are tired. There's a pull to skip the debrief, to just get home, to clean up tomorrow. Don't skip it. The debrief is where the lessons live. It's where trust either grows or atrophies. Even a short, focused conversation about what worked and what didn't pays off in every future operation.
Recognize trust takes time.
You can't shortcut this. A brand-new team operating together for the first time will not have the trust of a team that has worked together for years. That's not a failure. That's reality. Plan for the longer version of trust-building, accept that early operations will involve more friction, and invest the time the work requires.
The Real Lesson
I spent years thinking the dive team trust I experienced was specific to marine work. Eventually I realized it was specific to a kind of work — work where the consequences of poor communication are immediate and serious, where you depend on others when you can't talk to them, where the only thing keeping the operation safe is what you established before you started.
That kind of work exists everywhere in science. And the leadership it requires looks the same regardless of the discipline.
If you're leading any team where the field matters — where safety is real, where conditions are dynamic, where your people will have to make decisions you can't make for them — the work to build trust starts long before you put on a wetsuit, lace up the boots, or grab the sample kit. It starts in the conversations you have today.
