Darren Adams and John Lashmar are a little crazy - just ask them and the chances are they will readily admit as much.
In the course of their careers, the two Augusta locals have stared death and physical harm in the face while tangling with sharks, the unpredictability of the weather and equipment failure.
Just days after colleague Greg Pickering was attacked by a great white shark east of Esperance, Mr Adams and Mr Lashmar this week gave The Weekend West a rare insight into the extraordinary world of professional abalone diving in WA.
Small and confined to the State's wild southern extremes, it is a little-known and generally misunderstood industry in which a small group of individuals have a stranglehold over its lucrative bounty.
There are just 14 licences between Augusta and the South Australian border controlling a 200-tonne harvest of green and brown-lip abalone worth about $10 million a year.
One unshelled abalone is about $25.
Although the rights to commercially catch the molluscs are often farmed out as leases, those lucky enough to own and operate the licences are among WA's wealthier fishermen.
Certainly they rarely leave the profession willingly - just one licence is believed to have sold in the past 12 years and it fetched millions.
At the heart of the industry's success is strong demand from a swelling Chinese middle class, particularly for wild abalone stock from Australia.
Yet despite its relative sustainability - the south coast abalone fishery is carefully regulated by authorities and the fishermen - operators lament it is sometimes subject to perceptions of cowboy-like recklessness.
Perhaps part of the explanation lies in the risks the divers face and their incredible stories of survival.
Mr Lashmar, as a 35-year veteran of the profession and WA's oldest abalone diver, is testament to that.
When he entered the industry it was not uncommon to have to "free ascend" - swimming to the surface for survival after a diver's air hose fails.
Mr Adams, was once trapped in an underwater cave for 40 minutes because of pounding swell and lost his best friend David Weir to a great white shark off Hopetoun.
The 1995 attack, which left the deckhand aboard Mr Weir's boat scarred for life, happened just minutes after Mr Adams had finished a dive nearby.
Separately, Mr Adams' older brother Brad was forced to swim 2km in fading light through shark-infested waters when his 4.2m boat, laden with 400kg of abalone, sank like a stone in rough seas off Windy Harbour.
Even when Brad and his deckhand made it to shore, they had to scale Windy Harbour's razor-sharp cliffs to reach safety about four hours after capsizing.
Asked whether the occupational hazards worried them, Mr Adams and Mr Lashmar conceded the spectre of shark attack increasingly weighed on their minds after Mr Pickering's encounter and a spate of recent fatalities.
Mr Adams said he had always been philosophical and accepted the risks of being an abalone diver, even when Mr Weir was killed, but feared great white numbers were rising to dangerous levels.
"I only have 10 years left (as a diver)," he said. "Do I train my kids up to go work in the abalone industry or do they go fly-in, fly-out and make more money?
"A guy driving a dump truck makes more money than a diver, but I couldn't do it because I've got a much better office underwater than anybody else.
"You've just got to cross your fingers and enjoy work and not think too much about scary monsters biting you on the arse."
Mr Lashmar agreed, saying that ever since growing up on Kangaroo Island in South Australia and going diving to explore for shipwrecks, he has been addicted to the thrills of the industry, particularly the interactions with sea life.
According to the 61-year-old - who is due to retire next year but acknowledges he will find it hard to walk away - the financial benefits have been merely a lucky coincidence.
"It's a love of the sea - of going to sea, of being out there, a love of being in the water," Mr Lashmar said.
"It's not really a labour."I love coming home and going around the (Augusta) lighthouse at sunset - you can't beat something like that after a day's work."