The Zodiac

The Secret to Our Success

By Derek Levault

September 23rd, 2022

For marine debris operations, the FC 580 Futura Commando Zodiac is the transportation, the principal tool, home away from home, secret sauce, and mascot. It is the definitive backbone through which run the nerves of the organism that is PMDP; peripheral rubbing strakes, inflatable keel, and lateral stabilizers conveying the team to success.

Although equipped with many features, a stem to stern list and description doesn’t impart the essence, the fundamental nature, the real truth of the Zodiac. To describe a Zodiac merely by its features would be to characterize a supermodel by her outfit. Sure, there’s a blind-stitched hem and some glimmering sequins, but what about the grace, the sass, the drop-dead beauty as she walks down the runway. It would be to highlight the eagle’s rump plumage and neglect to mention that it soars in majesty. But indeed, there are abundant amenities, capabilities, and overflowing useful capacity.

You want seats, you got ‘em. Although technically non-existent, they are in practice both plentiful and highly fungible- a sponson in the morning, a pile of net in the afternoon, a tail cone from which to dangle your feet in the gurgling tropic sea as the boat slogs back in the evening, burdened with a payload of precious, unwanted cargo. Find a seat you will, but you don’t so much ride IN a Zodiac as you ride WITH it. A hand on the lifeline, feet planted, and a butt ready to lift off should the bottom of the wave fall out is the proper technique. Polarized sunglasses are generally a good idea, but on the occasion of a stiff headwind, a dive mask is an even better one.

That’s not to say that a Zodiac is without its comforts. Never has water tasted more glorious than when droughted from a Gatorade cooler ensconced under a colorful bow tarp. Like a camel at the oasis, perhaps even a holy roller at a revival, the Marine Debris Technician finds new meaning to life perched on a sizzling sponson, a peanut butter jelly sandwich in one hand, a frosty pint of H2O in the other, ready to haul in a trawl net, make peace with the creator, and head toward the light.

But perhaps his skin is toasting- there’s sunscreen in the console storage bin. Maybe her eyes require a shady respite- sunglasses rack by the helm. Pouches, platforms, bags of canvas, net, and neoprene put all the necessities and then some at the Marine Debris Technician’s fingertips.

The Zodiac is a rocket ship to Planet Earth- the real one, where you will get slapped in the face by a wave, chewed at the ankle by coral, frozen, scorched, half drowned, and totally desiccated. I hope you get the privilege to try it.

Meet the Author

Derek LeVault