An amazing story that had me on the edge of my seat at times. Cave diving is fascinating but it's something I could never do. I'm glad we have brave souls that can venture into the depths for us (and science) so we can continue learning about our world

DNFing for totally me-not-you reasons. See, here's the thing, this book is really interesting and when I actually sit down to read it, I'm fully immersed. But here we are half a year or more out from when I got this ARC, and I'm not even halfway yet...so i think I need to let this one go.

This is a brilliant memoir, completely immersive experience in cave diving and life beneath the ground and the pressures, patience, dangers, successes and failures of such a life. Very well-written. A very good balance was achieved in disclosing personal details while maintaining the focus on diving profession. All the best to the author and others like her in their future endeavors.

Thanks to the publisher for the ARC.

Heinerth's Into the Planet was such a fascinating read. As someone who is too scare to attempt scuba diving, this book was an adventure. I could feel my own stress levels rising just reading about Heinerth's close calls and warnings about running out of air and becoming trapped. WOW! I will certainly be purchasing this for my library. I know my patrons will love it.

Imagine a grueling, weeks long ship journey from New Zealand through the Roaring Forties, Furious Fifties, and Screaming Sixties, being tossed around like a cork in your bunk as the ship is buffeted by rogue waves and storms on your way to Antarctica. The ship lists dangerously, colleagues are seasick, and you have to cocoon yourself in your bunk just to avoid being thrown from it. Now imagine that this isn't even the most dangerous part of your mission: you still have to dive in the frigid antarctic waters looking for underwater caves in an iceberg.

Jill Heinerth has lived through this, and a myriad other life threatening situations in her career as a cave diver. Into the Planet is her memoir of that career, from her decision to leave her desk job through the many dives and expeditions she's been a member of. Heinerth's writing is at its best when she's recalling her dives, which are full of sensory details and danger. Admittedly, my interest flagged a bit during the segments in between, especially those involved with the more "mundane" aspects of life, such as running a dive store or her prior career in advertising. It's obvious she lives for adventure and not the mundane, and this comes through loud and clear in her writing.

Heinerth's career choice is a brave one, not only for the risk of death in any given dive, but also given the male dominated nature of diving. She details many troubling instances of sexism and judgment she's handled throughout her diving career, and her evolving ability to handle those situations.

While I found it hard to connect with her extremely adventurous nature (a trait she attributes to the "7R Gene", ostensibly a wanderlust gene, albeit one I've never heard of. I'll take her word for it), I admired her perseverance in a field where she's seen so many friends and colleagues perish. This is a worthy memoir for the vicarious thrills, especially for those like myself who will most likely never cave dive.

**I was given a copy of this book by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. My thanks to Harper Collins.**

This was a great book. It's often hard to relate to "thrill seekers" but the author did a great job of explaining why she continues to pursue this passion. I never thought much about cave diving but the writing was so superb that it made it accessible. I liked the parallel progression of her career and the sport of cave diving. The writing style was quite immersive

INTO THE PLANET is a beautiful memoir about the life and experiences of a prominent cave diver and photographer. The author, Jill Heinerth, used to be a successful graphic designer, owner of her own PR and marketing firm. Growing up in Canada, she always loved the outdoors, swimming, hiking, and exploring. But by the time she had settled into her job, working long and stressful weeks, she decided to quit that life, move to the Cayman Islands, and become a full time diver and explorer. It didn’t happen overnight, obviously. She worked at a dive shop in the Caymans - even taking an extra gig as a hotel chef - and used all her spare time and cash to dive. Slowly but surely, she gained experience, explored new caves, and got the irreversible bug to commit to one of the world’s most dangerous hobbies.

If you, like me, don’t really know what cave dicing is, you should do a quick YouTube search. About 20% into the book, I realized that I should probably have a more concrete frame of reference for this hobby to better and more fully understand Heinerth’s stories - both the technical aspects and how dangerous it really is. I sunk into a black hole of YouTube cave diving videos and came away with a new, profound sense of both admiration and confusion for what Heinerth does. As she says, cave divers explore the “veins of planet earth.” They go deep into groundwater, freshwater, and ocean caves, burrowing into tunnels in the hopes of connecting one cave with another or opening up into a never before seen room.

On one hand, it seems like an intriguing, beautiful, and unique activity. Heinerth says of one cave she discovered under a livestock watering hole in the Caymans that more people have been to the moon than had been to that cave. She attempts to describe the often indescribably beautiful scenes found 100+ feet underwater: the crystal clear water, the pristine geological formations and artifacts, the unique undersea ecosystems. She asserts that there is no better high for a diver than discovering a new cave, uncovering a new passageway, or setting a new record.

On the other hand, even reading Heinerth’s descriptions of the truly terrifying, sometimes near-death experiences her dives put her through was scary enough. Heinerth describes the seemingly endless set of situations that can - and have - killed divers. Here are just a few I can name after finishing the book:
* Decompression sickness (“the bends”)
* Oxygen sickness (turns out you can’t breathe too much oxygen at depth)
* Equipment malfunction (any of the number of things that keep a diver safe - a tear in a suit causing it to flood and give you hypothermia, a puncture in a tank, malfunction of pressure gauge, a broken guide line)
* Getting stuck or lost in a narrow passageway (seriously, I mean narrow - imagine laying flat on your belly with walls above and below you, giving you no more than a few inches of room on either side, needing to wriggle forward in the hopes of finding something worthwhile at the end)
* Running out of oxygen
* A cave passage closing in on you
* Low or no visibility because of all the silt being kicked up
* Staying at depth for too long and getting hypothermia
* And this is just once underwater - many of these worthwhile caves, especially in Mexico, make you brave treacherous roads and mountains in remote jungles where help is hours away.
It really makes you wonder why people subject themselves to this kind of intense danger. I admit that I can’t sympathize with the thrill seeking urge that Heinerth possesses (the 7R gene, she says) - I don’t have a bone in my body that would entice me to explore a cave 300 feet underwater. Heinerth discusses the reality that many, many of her friends have died on dives. She has had to revive them or go on missions to rescue their bodies. But to her, the risk is all worth it to discover something new, to map uncharted territory, and to make scientific advances.

Heinerth writes with honesty and clarity, putting you right into the story with her. When she recalls her journey to Antarctica, you feel like you’re with the team on the roiling seas aboard Braveheart, being tossed like a football in the waves. You feel like you’re in the freezing water of an iceberg with Heinerth and her husband, barely surviving many close calls of strong currents, cave entrances closing in front of them, and oxygen almost running out. She is very much in her stride when she tells these stories. Sometimes, especially at the beginning of the book, Heinerth’s writing sounds a bit like a college application essay. She tries a little bit too hard to identify those keystone moments in her life that made her change course - wise words from a friend, a scary experience, or a dream. It’s definitely a little cheesy.

It was fascinating to read this book about a life so different from mine and the ins and outs (literally) of what it takes to be a pioneering female cave diver.

"I will take you on an uncomfortable rendezvous with fear. You will feel cold and claustrophobic when you read this book. But I challenge you to recognize the humanity in that sensation of terror you're experiencing. I encourage you to accept that you are an explorer like me."

Before reading Into the Planet, I knew very little about cave diving. As an avid Nat Geo reader, I have seen some incredible photos taken in remote caves, but I had absolutely no idea of the technique, training, and skill that lies behind those photos until I read this book. Jill Heinerth's story had me hooked from the very beginning. The prologue opens with a harrowing scene set in the middle of an iceberg and then transitions back to her earlier years in the first chapter. The story touches on her introduction to cave diving, follows her major diving expeditions, and highlights some of her best diving stories. Throughout the book, Heinerth also weaves a subtle reminder of the importance of water and its protection and conservation.

This book is my favorite non-fiction read of the year so far! I absolutely loved it. Heinerth's prose is beautiful. She artfully transported me to the underwater caves as she retold her diving experiences, which are fascinating, exhilarating, and even terrifying at times. The pacing worked well. There weren't too many flashbacks and I never felt lost. I also appreciated her explanations of the technical side of diving. It wasn't complicated, but it was enough that I understood what was going on and why certain things happened. If I had any criticism at all, it might be that the last part of the book doesn't seem as cohesive as the rest of the book, but it was no less captivating than any other part.

Heinerth will no doubt inspire a new generation of cave divers with her memoir, but for me, it confirmed that I am definitely too claustrophobic to take up cave diving. Nonetheless, I still loved the opportunity to journey along with Heinerth and explore some of the deepest parts of the earth through her eyes. I will definitely re-visit this book again in the future!

A huge thanks to Jill Heinerth, HarperCollins Publishers, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review this lovely book!