I was working aboard an ocean-going research vessel. We (me and my teammates) were using deep-water side-scan sonar for mapping the seafloor and searching.

I was with three others in a work trailer on the after deck of the ship, like a large cargo container converted into a workshop. We were repairing a side-scan sonar unit and had it on a long workbench. Two of us were on each side of the bench. We had the cover off the unit and were diagnosing some electrical or electronic issue, so we had the unit powered up. There were tools and wires everywhere on the bench.

We were transiting in heavy weather, so the ship was rolling and surging through the ocean. It was very dynamic. As we worked it was natural to lean forward or back with the rolling of the ship

When we powered the unit up, one of my mates pointed to some on the inner components and said, "Watch out for those rails, they're charged to 500 volts, so be careful!" We were carefully using our electronic probes and test equipment to diagnose it. I had leaned forward and was reaching across the unit when the ship took a large roll. My forearm grazed the high-voltage rails, and I was thrown backwards against a wall.

I immediately found myself out of my body. I was above the trailer, as though it had no ceiling, and I could see myself leaning backwards, and the other three people were staring at me. There seemed to be nothing above me. Even though we were inside a trailer, I could hear and feel and sense the ocean, surging by, waves and whitecaps everywhere. I could clearly hear all the engines and machinery noise. But I wasn't breathing and there wasn't any sense of a heartbeat.

I knew without knowing that I could leave at that moment. I didn't know what it meant to leave, but I knew that it was upward somewhere. I was lighter than air—there was no sensation of weight or gravity. Even though we were ploughing through the ocean and the wind was blowing hard, there was no sense of being swept away. I just knew that I didn't have to go back if I didn't want to.

I looked closely at the faces of my friends. I looked closely at my own face, which was blank with my eyes closed. I knew they were shocked and frightened. I knew they were wondering if I was dead and about to collapse. I knew they were already thinking thoughts like, "Where's the first-aid kit?' "What are we going to do?" "How are we going to tell anyone about what just happened?"

I knew how scared they were, and when I knew that, I was filled with compassion. I didn't want them to be afraid, and I didn't want them to have to deal with a dead me. And then, I also knew there was more for me to do and more for me to love, and when I thought those thoughts, I swooped back down and into my body.

I opened my eyes, could feel the pain in my arm, could smell the burn, could once again feel myself breathing. There was a rush of breath and talk from my friends as they realized that I was awake and conscious. Everyone was talking at once. "Man, you were out of it. Where did you go?" "You just disappeared!" "You better sit down and have something to drink."

I had some water, and the coolness of it going down my throat was spectacular. There was nervous laughter and nobody seemed to know what to do next. Finally, I said, "I need to put something on my arm where it's burned," and that re-started us talking.

I sat in the trailer while the others continued working, and I was reading them some diagnostic instructions until they had it fixed and re-assembled. We secured everything and went to have a coffee and something to eat. But I had no appetite, and I realized that I couldn’t really tell them what just happened. I couldn't really tell anyone. So, I slept for several hours and went back to normal working duties.

I didn't ever tell anyone about this until years later when I was remarried, and I knew that my wife, a wonderful woman of deep Christian faith, would listen and completely understand and believe that I had been 'dead' and out-of-body, and yet came back.