Colleagues, students, family and friends write their memoriums of Gregg Stanton
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- By Ann Stanton with help from Frank Stanton
- By Kirk Campainha
- By Frank Stanton
- By Bill Quinn
- By Robert Rosenau
- By Rob Werner
- By Chris Peters with help from
Dr. William “Doc” Herrnkind - By Chris Peters
- By Joerg Hess
- By Trey Hutt
- By Justin Heath
- By Travis Kersting
- By Christopher Brown
- By Gabriel “Lu” Diaz
- By Cypress Rudloe
- By Suzanne Capener
- By Caet S
- By Howard Packer
- By Jorge Olaves
By Ann Stanton with help from Frank Stanton
Gregg Ramsey Stanton was born in Needham, Massachusetts on August 29, 1947. He was the second of four boys (Laird W., Gregg R., Frank G. and Keith N. Stanton) born to Ruth (Jorl) Guttersen Stanton and Frank Goodnow Stanton, an Air Force officer.
Gregg grew up living around the world from Greenland to Spain to Ohio to Thailand to Hawai‘i. He met his wife Ann (nee Rosenau) in Honolulu while in high school and married her on the beach on the Big Island three years later. After earning bachelor’s degrees the couple traveled around the U.S., finally settling in Florida. Gregg worked for Aquatic Sciences in Boca Raton, Florida and then the Harbor Branch Foundation in Ft. Pierce, Florida, before completing his master’s degree in biology at Florida State University in 1979.
In 1982 Gregg and Ann had a son, Eric Mcnally Stanton. Having a son meant it was time to build a house. Gregg, however, could not build a typical house, he had to build an underground house with a swimming pool on one side and underwater windows looking into the living room. In 1988, they had a daughter, Nicole Elaine Stanton. Ann worked in Tallahassee and raised the kids while Gregg was off on projects or teaching classes. The family did manage to go off to Alaska with him on a car camping trip one summer and out on their sailboat, the Olapa, where the kids learned to dive using surface-supplied gear.
Scuba diving has been central to Gregg’s life since he began diving while in Hawai‘i in 1963. He learned to teach diving while a member of the Pearl Divers Club and was certified by the National Association of Underwater Instructors (NAUI) in 1965. In 1974 he attended the Scientist-In-The-Sea Program (SITS), a collaborative program with the U.S. Navy to teach new scientists advanced diving skills, including saturation diving. Gregg went on to organize and run Scientist-In-The-Sea programs in 1976 and 2000.
In 1975 he turned his association with Florida State University into a Diving Coordinator position, and later into a Research Diving Officer position. The FSU Academic Diving Program became one of the most successful university programs in the country. He personally brought to fruition projects in the Antarctic, Palau, Banff (Canada) and many other locations, pushing the boundaries of scientific diving through affiliations with the International Association of Nitrox and Technical Divers (IANTD) and the American Academy of Underwater Scientists (AAUS). In 2014 AAUS honored Gregg with the Conrad Limbaugh Memorial Award for Scientific Diving Leadership for his role in dive safety and education. In 2000 he moved his diving program to the Panama City campus of Florida State University, where he expanded his scope to teaching underwater crime scene investigation techniques.
Gregg retired from FSU in 2004 and immediately began building a program of technical and cave diving that became the Wakulla Diving Center. Students came from all over the world to learn rebreather systems and cave diving from Gregg. He wrote a popular column for the local newspaper called Underwater Wakulla for 12 years.
In 2019 Hawai‘i called again and Gregg and Ann moved to Hawai‘i Island for a busy second retirement, resurrecting an avocado orchard and building a new technical dive facility. The Covid pandemic and other health issues intervened. He was cared for at home by his wife of 56 years until his gentle death on July 11, 2024.
Gregg is survived by his wife Ann, son Eric, daughter Nicole (Zac) and two brothers, Frank (Evelyn) and Keith.
Comments on his life and condolences to the family can be made online at the Ballard Family Mortuary’s website, www.ballardfamilymortuaries.com, Obituaries, Find your loved one, Tribute Book.
The family thanks all of Gregg’s friends, former students, colleagues and well-wishers in advance for their kind thoughts and memories of this remarkable man.
By Kirk Campainha
I met Greg when he ventured back to Hawaii. From the day I met Greg his eagerness to pass on his knowledge as an educator was incredible. Greg’s phone was always open to share his thoughts and vast knowledge of Technical Diving. Greg and his wife graciously opened their home to me and invited me in as if we had been friends for 30 years. I only knew Greg for the last five years but in those years he has made a positive impact on my life. I look forward to the day we meet again.
By Frank Stanton
All my love to you Ann, Eric, Nikki and Zac in this time of reflection.
Thank you Gregg for being the big brother every kid should have. You were a catalyst in my and many other’s lives. I was led into SCUBA diving by being your surface (snorkel) dive buddy in the days before pressure gauges and tank reserves were common. You were my instructor for every diving certification I ever got. I was always welcomed into your, and Ann’s, home as you guided me through automobile overhauls, and the restoration of my first boat. The opportunities you made available led to my first oceanographic cruise, my first exposure to scientific diving, my first “real” job at a marine lab and my first dive instruction job as your assistant . The flyer you sent me advertising a research program in Hawaii led to the rest of my life here in Hawaii. There are many others that have similarly benefited by your catalytic function of providing friendship, education and opportunity. Your attitude of “I have no idea of how to do this but let’s figure a way” led many into adventures that pushed the limits of diving science.
Your care of our parents and eldest brother at the end of their lives speaks to your character as a family member. Remodeling your home and moving your dive business to accommodate our parents was just the start of a long commitment to their care. You were there when others of us could not be present.
Mahalo for a life well lived and shared.
Frank (Skipper)
By Bill Quinn
Florida 2006 – The first time I went out for Rebreather and Cave Training. Was welcomed into the unique underground house. Learnt so much thank you Gregg.
By Robert Rosenau
April and I give condolences to Ann and her family. Words are just words at times like this; so, Ann please give yourself a hug from us. Two short stories to share.
Years ago, when a threatening hurricane had changed course and headed directly toward Tallahassee, and Ann and Gregg’s home, I received a call from Gregg. He explained that he was traveling alone, by car, out west, and that their home had lost power, and communications, and inquired whether I could check on Ann’s wellbeing. (You might know they lived in the only underground house in Florida with an elevation of about 20 feet above sea level.) Not desiring to make the hour drive into weather, instead I called the Wakulla County Sheriff’s office, and they ensured me they would conduct a check and let me know. About two hours later I heard back from the Sheriff that Ann was well, and so relayed to Gregg. Later I found out from Ann, that she had repaired the generator and that during the storm, firemen had “beaten on the windows” and informed that they heard Ann had a house fire and wanted to know if she was okay. Gregg was always traveling somewhere, but deeply loved his family.
Another time, while April and I were traveling on the coast we decided to visit their Dive Shop, just to see. This was after Ann and Gregg had moved to Hawaii. Well…we went in, poked around a bit, and finally spoke with someone there. We asked about the owners and were told they now live in California. We were in the car leaving, when Gregg knocked on our window. Surprise! He had literally just arrived to check on the status of the shop, found no one in charge and had immediately gone to work doing “shop stuff.” Two non-purchasing diving customers came in looking for a cave to dive as apparently gulf diving wasn’t happening. Listening for ~20 minutes we overheard Gregg giving them detailed advice on how to get to the cave and how to avoid many of the dangers associated with the cave they were interested in. Gregg cared about people and loved training others.
Bob & April Rosenau
By Rob Werner
Gregg and I collaborated on several research projects when he was at FSU. He was a wonderful colleague and friend. I will miss him greatly.
Thank you, Gregg.
By Chris Peters with help from
Dr. William “Doc” Herrnkind
Florida State University’s first and longest tenured Diving Safety Officer, Gregg R. Stanton trained in the Scientist in the Sea Program (SITS) under the tutelage of the U.S. Navy Captain George F. Bond, M.D., the father of saturation diving. Gregg performed numerous advanced subsea projects including manned undersea habitats. Subsequently, Gregg organized a SITS program at the FSU Coastal Marine Lab. Gregg was well known in the scientific diving community for his development of new technologies. He oversaw numerous international diving operations, and incorporated and trained a team in deep cave diving to capture rare primitive crustaceans. In the period the FSUCML had no coastal research vessel, Gregg was instrumental in acquiring the R/V Seminole, a 47-foot diesel-powered vessel that served FSU for decades of scientific diving. Through the 1980s and 1990s, Gregg supervised training, equipment and safety while enabling thousands of FSU faculty, staff, and students to explore the underwater world. In 2014, he was awarded the prestigious Conrad Limbaugh Prize by the American Academy of Underwater Sciences for his contributions to diving science.
In commemoration of the coming 50-year anniversary of the Florida State University’s Academic Diving Program (ADP), we celebrate the life and outstanding service of Gregg R. Stanton while working as FSU’s first Diving Safety Officer. Without Gregg, there would be no ADP.
By Chris Peters
I met Gregg in 2016, just a few days after moving to Tallahassee from Hawaii to take the position as FSU’s new Diving Safety Officer. He arrived at the Marine Lab overflowing with experience and confidence – two things he soon learned I was lacking. Fortunately, being the generous person he was, he was eager to share. I still remember the advice he gave with a bright smile, on how to approach my new position – “You are the scientific diving coordinator. You should be a facilitator.” Over the next few years, he guest lectured for the scientific diving course, proudly sharing with students the wonderful stories of his expeditions to K-Tower, Palau, and Antarctica.
Gregg’s contributions to diving science extend far beyond FSU, but it’s here that I feel his impact. 25 years of ambition and a willingness to go where others had not gone before. I can only imagine how many wonderful stories he had and shared with the thousands of other divers he impacted along his way.
As it turned out, Gregg and I would trade places in more ways than one, as he would soon move to the Hamakua Coast on the Big Island of Hawaii, just a short drive from where I’d lived. Aloha Gregg, and Mahalo.
By Joerg Hess
I met Gregg in spring 1999 in cave country, Florida. I was undergoing cave diver training. Gregg was being evaluated as cave instructor, alongside two other candidates. These were two separate events, but both my instructor, and Gregg’s instructor-trainer put us together.
If you ever have the pleasure of being trained in cave diving, it is a very humbling experience, never mind having five instructors criticize every move you make or don’t make. While all other instructors focused entirely on the technical aspects, Gregg was the only one to provide encouragement, and look at me as a person. We started chatting, and, after diver graduation, he invited me for a weekend stay at his place, where we spent hours talking about dive-related matters, technology, and future endeavors. Apparently this was quite normal for him, and his wife Ann was ever-so-kind to welcome the new guest as if I had been a longtime friend. It was not until a year or so later that I realized that he was a professor for scientific diving, having established the first academic diving program before I was born. Gregg was humble that way, just a kind person. What followed was, by all accounts, an incredible journey. I was fortunate enough to be able to take months off from my studies at home, and helped Gregg build a new program at the FSU campus in Panama City, the Advanced Science Diving Program (ASDP). He introduced me to many people who had been instrumental in writing diving history. I managed to spend a year at the ASDP with Gregg, while also performing my master’s equivalent thesis in collaboration with the Navy Experimental Diving Unit (NEDU), a diver’s dream, again made possible and initiated by Gregg! He was a facilitator, and yet never sought the limelight himself. For a while, he was lovingly referred to as Papa Smurf brought about most certainly by his beard, but also his caring attitude towards his students.
His sheer determination and focus was inspiring, and I had the incredible opportunity, alongside other professors, to build a new program, Underwater Crime Scene Investigation (UCSI), a world’s first. Not only was he instrumental in starting up the program, he facilitated the team’s evolution in astonishing ways. As a small example for his bone-headed determination, the team discussed the need for a decompression chamber on site and the next week, we had one standing behind our office. Who does that?
Gregg taught me to look at the bigger picture, and look for options, not obstacles. It’s an attitude that has actually saved my life on more than one occasion. Diving is not without its risks, a fact Gregg was painfully aware of. We shared many a hot-tub session dreaming about new things to try out. Some of the projects we did together I still find incredible as they redefined what is possible. It is in the nature of such endeavors that conflict is inevitable. Gregg and I butted heads on many occasions, but again, his kindness and patience aided turning such a crisis into progress, as our different viewpoint allowed us to expand our horizons most of the time. Gregg himself often used the expression we stand on the shoulders of those who came before us, in acknowledgement of other people’s achievements. In his case, I count myself incredibly lucky to not only have stood on his shoulders, figuratively speaking, but to have had the opportunity to walk alongside, and under the protective wing of, a true giant.
It is not surprising that many of his former proteges have moved on to become industry leaders. With a smile, and tears in my eyes I say goodbye to a friend and brother-in-spirit who has touched many lives.
I intend to carry on part of his legacy, at least in a rather small way.
Farewell to Gregg.
By Trey Hutt
I first met Gregg Stanton about 25 years ago in a classroom at FSU. What struck me at first was, of all things, his voice. He had a measured tone that just drew me in, both calm and calming, like a professorial Mr. Rogers. He was charmingly rumpled, which I came to learn was his natural state. In truth, I was somehow captivated, but I didn’t quite know what to make of the man. I mean, who runs around with a full beard but no mustache? I had absolutely no idea the impact that he would have on my life. When I heard the news of his passing, it wasn’t really surprising considering his condition, but it was still a shock, as if that makes any sense.
Our time together during the days at FSU and afterward at Wakulla Diving Center were joyous; it’s the only word that seems to fit. Lots of diving, of course, but plenty of other times that were almost invariably some kind of adventure, whether large or small. I dubbed him “Papa Smurf,” a moniker that rang true among our little band of misfits, and he seemed genuinely pleased to wear it. You know how it was, he took everything in good humor.
As I look back and try to describe Gregg’s impact, the words seem small, inadequate to the task. I have tremendous affection for him, and I respect him like no one else, save my own father. I recall once, early in our friendship, telling Gregg that had I met him a decade earlier that my life would likely have taken a very different direction. Gregg, as one would expect, simply replied with a grin, something to the effect that I could change paths any time I’d like, it just took some effort. As it turned out, the path I stayed on is pretty great, and enhanced greatly by having Gregg walk part of it with me.
I’m pretty sure that Gregg’s hospitality knew no bounds, which must’ve driven Ann a little nuts. He was so giving of his time and energy, his knowledge and experience, his patience and wisdom. He was happy to share his dive gear, his boat, his sandwich, or even his home. He is the only person I have met that seemed utterly without ego, despite being a world-class instructor and a legend in the diving community. I was always awed by his humility and curiosity. He imparted knowledge in everything that he did.
As he taught me things about diving and became my friend, what took me so long to realize was that the sneaky son of a gun was teaching me so much more. He was like that, you know, quietly subversive. He taught me direct, simple lessons that went well beyond the pool or boat deck: Don’t panic. Use the “Three OS Rule.” Plan well and be prepared. Meet people where they are. Be patient. There are no problems, only challenges. He was an absolute master in letting you learn from your mistakes without embarrassment. His simple truths have made me a better businessman, a better teacher, a better speaker. Certainly a better Dad. Very few days pass that I do not put to practical use a lesson taught me by such a brilliant man. As a mentor, he is absolutely without peer.
When I heard the sad news, it had been quite a while since I’d seen Gregg. Florida to Hawaii isn’t a quick commute. While I have missed him since he left, I was so glad to know that he was back where he was happiest. Not too many people can pull that off. It made me wonder if I should have told him all this, but I’ve decided probably not. It always seemed that Gregg had a funny thing about praise… not in giving it, but receiving it. I think that he knew – most of it, anyway. Like all who knew him, I can’t repay all his kindness, all his lessons, all the debt that I owe such fine man. I figure that he’d want us all to pay it forward, anyway, and I believe that will prove to be the real legacy of Gregg Stanton.
Ann, Nicole, and Eric, thank you for sharing him with all of us.
Remembering Gregg Stanton.
By Justin Heath
I first met Gregg Stanton during my cavern diving class back in 2010-2011. I thought I was going on a trip to florida to get my cavern cert, drive back to Texas and that would be it. Boy was I wrong.
The minute we walked in to Wakulla Dive Center my classmates and I were greeted with Gregg’s ear-to-ear grin with his unforgettable beard. You could tell the excitement in his voice as we toured the shop as he discussed each rebreather unit and his vision for the dive shop as a whole.
I quickly learned that Wakulla dive center and Gregg were not your typical dive shop. He would lend out equipment and help at no extra charge. At first, I thought this was a nice gesture to get more business. I quickly learned this was just Gregg’s personality. He wanted his students and friends to succed more than he cared about profit.
He always made everyone feel like family. After a long day of diving and training, most instructors would wave good bye to his students and say see ya tomorrow! Not Gregg. He would literally stay after class with his students, eat dinner with them, then go back to the shop to work more. Sometimes getting home at midnight or later. Again, showing how much he cared about other people. He couldn’t live with going home knowing that someone was in need of help.
I worked for Gregg at the dive shop for three years during summer break when I was off of school. I can say with certainty, my life would not be the same without his dedication and mentorship. I went on to meet people and gain skills in the dive industry that I still use today in my professional career.
Gregg caring about me and my time with him is unforgettable; however, the bigger picture is he did this for hundreds of people throughout his career. To think of all the mentorship and life’s he changed at FSU and Wakulla dive shop is mind blowing. He left a legacy that will never be forgotten. RIP Gregg.
By Travis Kersting
On January 1st, 2009 I lost my job, due to a shifting economy, via text message just before I planned to leave for work in the morning. I had been working as a welder and metal fabricator in a small Northern Minnesota town with a population of just 2565 people. By this point in my life I had already become obsessed with the activity of SCUBA diving, with nearly a decade of experience. I’d gone so far as joining a public safety dive team, manufacturing & servicing some of my own equipment, and blending trimix breathing gases at home but without proper training.
With a lack of potential employment locally I opted to go back to school and by the fall of 2009 I was enrolled in a technical program with the express purpose of trying to make myself more attractive to a scuba manufacturer. More specifically I wanted to design, build, and test rebreathers though I had never used one before. An ideal goal would be to find a manufacturer in or around Cave Country (High Springs) Florida where I could fulfill that interest more easily as well.
As a broke student it was irresponsible of me to take off for some scuba convention but when the opportunity came up to attend the Ghost Ship Festival in Milwaukee Wisconsin and test dive multiple rebreathers I couldn’t say “No”. In March of 2010 I met Gregg Stanton, Richie Kohler, and a handful of others for a try-dive event which cost just $75. Following the event I stopped at a booth where I spent more time talking to Gregg, learning he was opening a new dive business in Wakulla County Florida. He couldn’t leave out the fact that he drove up for that event in a Jetta propelled by home-made biodiesel, a 17hr or 1100mile one way trip. He gave me a business card with an email, an AOL email which was outdated even then, and asked me to send a resume when I finished school in 2011.
In February 2011 I drove to Wakulla Diving Center from Cohasset Minnesota, stopping only for fuel and one short nap. Why? Because Gregg invited me to come see his facility, stay at his house, and interview/intern for two weeks. Today this seems absurd but I was sort of chasing a dream and as well as warmer weather.
For the entirety of my visit I barely saw Gregg, not even in passing. He had double booked himself a rebreather course plus my visit so I spent the time with his daughter, business partner Joerg, and a funny little guy from the Isle of Mann (he needs his own article). It was the last night of my stay and Gregg had finished his rebreather course so he invited me to a proper one-on-one interview in, of all places, his hot tub. When I showed up he was in the nude, something I wasn’t accustomed to but which was normal for him and his family. Have you ever been offered a job making almost no money from a nude man in a hot tub? Oh, the things we do when chasing dreams. Obviously, he offered me a deal I couldn’t pass up; I’d never have to shovel snow again and I wouldn’t be homeless.
I made the drive back to Florida. This time with a 24ft moving truck and towing my Kia Optima, to start work on May 10th of 2011. I didn’t have a home or an apartment, instead unloading everything I owned in the back of Wakulla Diving Center and living at Gregg’s house. See, he couldn’t afford to pay me much. Deep Horizons had happened right after I had first met him and the business took a real hit. I didn’t care, Gregg’s forever optimistic persona and generosity of housing/meals/etc meant I had at least made it to Florida and was one step closer to my goal. He promised to increase my pay as I built skills and the business rebounded.
Gregg Stanton wasn’t a businessman, he was an academic. A fact he was proud of and one he repeated to anyone who stopped in to see the dive center. He had retired as a professor from FSU well before I met him and then he attempted to make his home fill station, and business as an independent SCUBA instructor, into a proper brick-and-mortar store with Wakulla Diving Center.
Long road trips because of Gregg became the norm, not the exception. We drove round trip to Las Vegas for DEMA twice, south and central Florida many times, up the east coast to Pennsylvania and later to DC twice. We didn’t listen to music, we discussed business and dreamt up new plots to make his hobby-store work. He didn’t have conventional business experience so he would come up with unconventional business ideas. This meant that he afforded me more and more responsibility and freedom to try new things and see what happened. The goal was to pay the bills, build a community, and do interesting things. Gregg wasn’t motivated by profits and regularly reinvested into the business without ever taking a paycheck for himself.
Because of Gregg I met and made friends with countless SCUBA icons, owners of equipment manufacturing companies, and cave explorers. As example, every year at DEMA, we did what I’d call our “Pyle Stop” and we’d visit Dr. Richard Pyle for 5 minutes and move on. Richard is an ichthyologist in Hawaii who was an active rebreather test diver doing 400-500ft science dives. I could name-drop dozens of (famous in the world of scuba) people that Gregg just knew and he was never afraid to approach any of them to discuss some wild new idea he had.
I left Wakulla Diving Center on March 30, 2019 after giving him six months notice of my intent to depart. Though to this day I don’t think he believed I was quitting because he only showed up to take over on the last day of my employment. Instead, he was living out in Hawaii since 2017, attempting to start another business there at something like 68yrs old. Who does that? Gregg would tell people he didn’t want to retire because when you retire you die. A fact I think his wife Ann never shared the same sentiment about. Wakulla Diving Center was closed and the building turned over to it’s new owner at the end of June, just 2 weeks or so before he passed. I guess he was on to something about retiring.
I can say literally that I wouldn’t have the job (working at a rebreather manufacturer), girlfriend, or friends I have today without Gregg Stanton. We were often at odds, people would say we acted like a married couple, and we really did drive each other nuts, but at the end of the day we always worked things out. He was honest with me and I was with him. He gave me more responsibility than I ever wanted and more generosity than I probably deserved. I worked hard for his business and his dream because Gregg was an optimist who adamantly believed he could make his dreams a reality even when I or others couldn’t see it. The shop had his heart in it, and without him and his continuing love and dedication for it, it couldn’t survive the same way. But I am grateful for the time I had with him and the things we accomplished together.
By Christopher Brown
My admiration and respect for Gregg are impossible to express. He never failed to greet you with a big grin wrapped in a beard! How many divers did he nurture? I’d sooner ask how many hours he spent on deco. How many careers in diving did he kick-start? You might as well try to count the hairs in that beard! His memory and his work — his role modeling, his teaching, his depth of experience, and his knowledge are being carried on everywhere around the world. What a legacy! Missing you, Gregg!
By Gabriel “Lu” Diaz
Gregg loved the ocean, and he shared that with anyone and everyone that would lend an ear for a few minutes. I’m honored to have been taught by him and will carry with me for the rest of my life. Thank you Gregg for all the talks and lessons!
By Cypress Rudloe
Gregg really was an amazing person who helped a lot of people, including me. He’s the one who helped me get my captain’s license and taught me how to scuba dive. He was a true man of the sea. Just wanted to tell you how much meant to me. He was by far one of my favorite people in Wakulla.
By Suzanne Capener
Losing Gregg is a hit to us as we always enjoyed his company and his expertise.
I was a cave diver and student of Gregg’s. He was absolutely amazing all around. He came recommended as the best in the industry for rebreather training and it turned out to be so true. I also knew him through the diving community, hanging out with him and others at DEMA.
Gregg was just an all around great person. He had a great impact to both my life and my diving experience. I can say that I am alive today because of his training. I also witnessed all the mentoring of others he had done.
By Caet S
So very sad to learn of Gregg’s passing. I only met Gregg and Ann once, when they graciously hosted me in their daughter’s bedroom for a week while I completed my OW course with Gregg. The course itself was stressful, but my time up in Cave Country was magical… the clear water of the springs, the crickets chirping on their property late at night, the watermelon in the pool, the horseshoe crab during my 2nd check-out dives, the armadillo crossing the road… but most importantly Gregg’s unending patience throughout the course. Truly the most knowledgeable, experienced, and humble diver I’ve encountered thus far. My sincerest condolences to all his loved ones.
By Howard Packer
Gregg took time away from his diving business to be my friend and to dive with me just for fun.
By Jorge Olaves
My condolence to the family and close friends. My prayers are we all of you. I was one of Greg’s student.
