Humboldt Squid and Other Good Things

The Humboldt Squid (Dosidicus gigas), also known as Jumbo Squid, Jumbo Flying Squid, or Diablo Rojo (Red Devil), is a large, aggressive predatory squid found in the waters of the Humboldt Current in the Eastern Pacific Ocean. They are most commonly found at depths of 200-700 meters (600 to 2300 feet), from Tierra del Fuego to California. Recent findings suggest the range of this species is spreading north into the waters of Oregon, Washington, British Columbia and Alaska ~ Wikpedia

We got the best of the days this weekend for our New Years Dive. We held our breath and watched the weather reports and waited...... Morning arrived as did my ride. Time is a relative thing ....we weren’t late. That is a good thing. 9AM is a civilized time to set sail.

The parking lot at the Belmar Marina is in the midst of repair and refurbishing. Unfortunately some precious parking spaces have been lost to the beautification and improvement process. Take note for next year.

My first Jersey boat dive of this year was on the Stingray, so it is apropos that my last one should be. There were seven of us and the good Captain this morning, Mark and myself, Steve (SteveR), Ernie (theRookman), Bob (PIR8), Jeff, and Sean (Martini), ready for whatever was in store for us. There was some frost this morning, and the skies were a bit gray but the heater was roaring and the Scuba Gods smiled on us with near flat seas and occasional wide troughed roller. We were headed for the Northeast Sailor. This site was on my list of places to revisit since my dive there earlier in the season was cut short. These are all good things.

This wreck lies in 75 feet of water and is the remains of an unknown wooden sailing ship. The absence of towing bits is an indicator that this was probably not a schooner barge. Low lying wreckage remains along with a huge anchor pile and some machinery and boilers. Ernie had predicted 42F water with 15-20 foot viz. I contemplated the calm water and incoming tides as I geared up. My last dive of the year, I was hoping not to be disappointed. I rolled in and came up in a bit of current, swimming like crazy for the line at the back of the boat. Mark followed and we headed on down. There were chunks of particulate in the gray green water as we went down but light was filtering through and as the strobe on the chain came into view I smiled.

Mark tied off a reel and we set out to look about. There were a few issues with the reel and he wrestled with it as I looked about. I had my reel but he was determined and so we continued. We followed some ribs out and looked about and then poked around the chain pile looking in the dents and holes. While filled with swimmy guys, they were all rather small, some barely worth poking. I grabbed an occasional tail or two for fun as we moved along looking about. Steve passed by us with his spear gun in tow just as I spied a nice sized fish tucked into a hole in the chain. I looked up, ready to signal Steve with my light, but he was too far passed, so....................I poked it.

As we continued to look about the reel was still behaving badly and so we turned around to head on up. There was still the occasional starfish lying about, some rather large, and lots of shells and Ernie was wrong. While we had the 15-20 foot visibility, the water temperature was 44 F not 42F. That is a good thing.

On the surface there was no one to greet me at the ladder.....it was a wee bit cold topside and everyone was taking advantage of the heater and I managed a respectable climb up on my own before Ernie came out to help. My first time up this ladder this year I did not fair so well. It wasn’t pretty. As I end the year, I am getting better. And that too is a good thing. We snacked and traded stories on the surface interval. There were many lobster on this wreck but they were all small or females with eggs. The wreck is known for its deep holes and several large sets of claws were tucked waaay back. Unfortunately Bobs suit leaked, he looked like he jumped overboard without it and he was sitting the next dive out.

We headed for our next site, a new one for me, the Spring Lake Wreck, an unidentfied turtled schooner barge named for its proximity to the town of Spring Lake. A buoy had been left on the site from earlier in the year and Ernie went down the line to check things out as we got ready. Just before we were ready to splash in he appeared on the ladder ranting and raving and carrying on. Apparently there was quite the current on the bottom....and the visibility was only 5 feet......and it was cold.....and there were no fish....and the chain moved....and he had a hard time......and there were sharp bars crisscrossing the interior of the wreck..... There were some fish but that was the only redeeming quality of this wreck.... it was the worst dive of his life. Jeesh Ernie...tell us how you really feel.

The seas were picking up and we could see the promised foul weather coming in as we rolled over the side, with Jeff joining us Since Bob was remaining on top. The current was considerably stronger here as Ernie had mentioned and as I swam against it for the line I was having my doubts about making it. I could see me spending my projected 30 minute dive time kicking my heart out and swimming in place. We descended we had to watch for fish hooks caught on the line and unceremoniously arrived on the bottom. Not running a reel, we ran along the side of the wreck looking about and checking the wildlife hiding inside. The metal hull of this barge was slowly disintegrating and left many pieces having rusted and fallen to the sand below and the current was fairly strong so we stayed low to the sand as we moved about. As we swam along I suddenly spotted it. At first it looked odd and I couldn’t imagine what it was, it looked like long tentacles hanging below the ragged edge of the wreck, As we swam it moved down the line of the wreckage and Mark pointed so I knew he saw it too. Before I could move he stuck out his hand and grabbed for it. That’s my boy! I taught him well. We continued along peeking about but never encountered it again. We swam about and I poked at the occasional fish just inside the barge, and rescued two sinkers caught in the debris, and picked up my final shell for the year. While the water temp was just one degree colder we felt it and headed on up.

Our stop on the line was chilly but I took the time to consider the past year of diving and all that I saw and did, even on this last dive of the year. As we arrived on deck we quickly broke down our gear and headed into the warmth of the cabin.

I was telling Ernie about the tentacles we saw . I think it was a squid, maybe a Humboldt Squid, really, it could be. But I saw Mark shake his head. I guess he didn’t think it was a Humboldt, probably thought it was just a regular old Longfin Jersey Squid. Doesn’t matter.....it surely wasn’t just some algae, so it will forever remain in my mind as the giant squid on the Spring Lake Wreck.....this is a good thing....really.

We arrived back at the docks, safe and sound. Not the best of conditions. Not picture perfect dives. Jersey dives, typical Jersey dives....you know....the ones we all know and love. And that is a good thing.

New Jersey Museum of Maritime History

In anticipation of the Nor’easter a comin’...... we decided to visit the New Jersey Museum of Maritime History in Beach Haven, and I am very glad we did.
We spent a good part of the early afternoon browsing through the two floors of exhibits.

At the museums front entrance lies a huge anchor and chain, the possible weight of which we wondered out loud about as we climbed the steps to the front door. Upon entering the museum, you are immediately met by floor to ceiling exhibits covering all the walls and in cases and on tables everywhere you look.

I believe it is a 13 lb lobster that you immediately spy as you enter, and as much as I would love to claim victory over one of these monsters, I will admit, especially since things look measurably larger under water, I might.....just might now...not poke one of these. Awww ..... who am I kidding, I would probably be sorry, but I would do it.

To the right of the entrance is an antique Navy diving suit. The forerunner of today’s dry suits. There are lead weights covering the toes to keep you from having floaty feet. I have enough trouble climbing a boat ladder without lead weights on my feet that could kick a hole right through the boat. And just past that is a lighted display of hand painted slides of maritime themed pictures. They are absolutely intriguing.

As you walk down the hallway, it is lined with pictures and little comments on myriads of New Jersey wrecks hung in alphabetical order. To see these and be able to say, “Hey I dove on that one!“ makes your time here fly by.

From there you enter a large room with floor to ceiling pictures and antique postcards of local towns and follow their development into what they are today. I could not imagine trying to swim in some of the costumes displayed here.

In another room are more pictures of maritime rescues and local coastguard stations and storm devastation. While we were there a video was playing showing the local coastline being devastated by storms from the late twenties to the one in the sixties when “the ocean and the bay met” . There was some awesome footage on this video showing the power of these storms that have pounded our coastline with enough force that one time it beached a Navy battleship.

There is a huge display on the Morrow Castle catastrophe that brings a very personal side to the story to your mind and replaces the fact that you just knew that she burned and sank. From the beginning where they show you the poster advertising 10 and 20 day cruises for $200.00 and bills showing charges to rooms for 12 beers at a cost of $1.20, you look to see what other little treasures are among the hundreds of items spread before you. And then the story progresses to pictures of the fire and rescues. Showing the actual victims being pulled onto the beach while people try to revive them. Of children who have lost their entire family sitting with blank stares waiting for someone to claim them. It is a very powerful exhibit.

You then wind your way upstairs where you are greeted by a library of maritime reference books, a lending library and computer data base. There are several areas to sit and browse with tables and chairs, desks and a conversations pit of comfy stuffed furniture.

As you walk along up here you still have to remember to look up as things are everywhere. There are so many portholes on display that you find it hard to believe there are any left in the ocean. If you have never been lucky enough to find your own, you come away with a respect for how heavy these are and how thick the glass in them is
There is a display on the Andrea Doria and on this visit a video documentary on the sinking was playing. There are personal items and china and several cases of artifacts as your read your way along the display. Attached to the walls and ceiling are lights and bells and pieces of various ships, many of which are on loan from divers and local people through out the state.

There are display cases with recovered artifacts from dozens of wrecks and displays of antique navigational tools and even a cannon. Antique logs of shipwrecks and letters and articles and personal pictures that bring the history to life. Just a never ending display.

In one small alcove is display of the submarine S-5 which was visited by a group of local divers this summer. Center of the display is the recovered coffee urn from the mess room of the sub. I could not imagine swimming out of that sub dragging this piece behind me.

There is another room dedicated to local wildlife and displays of different shells and several areas where you can see they are still a work in progress. The building has been lovingly restored and the huge amounts of natural light make walking through a pleasure. The displays are varied from sea life to local history and covering rescues and diving. Admittance is free and donations are accepted. I am positive you can revisit this place several times and still find something new or something you missed every time. I know I will be back.

http://www.museumofnjmh.com/photographs.html The pictures are from the website, visit it to see more and visit the museum to see it all.

The Locomotives and the Macedonia

I could never stay long enough on the shore. The tang of the untainted, fresh and free sea air. Was like a cool, quieting thought, and the shells and pebbles and the seaweed with tiny living creatures attached to it never lost their fascination for me. ~Helen Keller

My friends and family think I am crazy.....it doesn’t help when they ask where I am going...and I say diving....but its winter, what are you going to see?...choo choo trains.... Sometimes diving is hard to explain.

Sometime in the 1850’s, two small locomotives fell into the Atlantic Ocean and landed side by side, about 7 feet apart, upright, in 85 feet of water. They remain upright instead of sinking into the sand because there is a stone ledge not far below the sand forming a solid platform beneath these engines. And there is a Federal Court Order of Protection on these trains and no artifacts may be taken nor is any damaging of the trains allowed. You tie into a sand spike between the two instead of onto their wreckage and diving this with two members of the New Jersey Historical Society gives you some additional insight into the site and the plans to retrieve the trains.

As we readied to dive, Rich G. rolled over first to tie us in. His theory was that with the site being so small there would only be one fish worth taking on the wreck and he was going to get it.

Josh and I readied to follow him. As I geared up Ernie mentioned that other divers referred to me as “Flash“ due to my lightening speed. It is good to be recognized and know some people appreciate me. I did have usual my blonde moments, but must mention that I did have help this time. The gauntlet of my new 5ml gloves does not easily fit over my dry suit arms and I asked for some assistance. Ernie had to call in reinforcements and with Howard braced against the benches with my arm against him and Ernie pushing on the gloves they finally managed to get a recognizable imitation of the gloves on my hands, although they did mention that I might not want to try and run a reel or anything with them on. They then sat me on the gunwale and I rolled over...into the water....and couldn’t kick myself upright.....without fins.... We had worked so hard on the gloves, no one noticed. I climbed back aboard and was assisted into them and rolled in again.

The seas were flat and we dropped down and passed Rich on the line, both times down. About half way down the line Joshes suit started to flood and we surfaced to adjust his zipper before continuing to the bottom and about 20 foot of viz.

While much of the wooden structure of the engineers cabin has rotted away, and the salvageable hardware and the brass has long been removed, as you come upon this unusual sight there is no mistaking that they are trains. While encrusted in a thick growth of barnacles, hydras and anemones, they form a natural encasement of the engine, boilers, wheels and stacks of the engines and a definite outline of a train.

After a swim around each engine you have seen the entire sight. The six spoked wheels still fully intact in the special 2-2-2 (o0o) design of these engines which are center of the wreckage. The boilers and smoke stacks above. The doors to the engine furnaces encrusted over in sea life.

The rear of the engines have the most enormous anemones I have seen. They are impressive and we swam a second circuit to check out the locals. Towards the rear of the engine, just above the last wheel, the wooden cabin is no longer there allowing you to see through to the other side. And sitting in this space, framed by the rest of the engine sat an enormous blackfish, close to 3 feet long. Just hanging out. Josh and I looked at each other, I could not imagine what Rich had speared if he left this guy behind.

We moved on up to the front where the cow catcher grate would be and as we approached, I saw it. It was just a tail and it stuck out about 2 foot, but it was big around and I headed straight for it. I peeked inside and this eel ran the whole width of the train inside and with his head in and his tail out....he begged to be poked. My hand went out and like a shot Josh grabbed it and gave me the international sign for “No Cheryl, we don’t poke these, choose something else.” And he nudged me along just to be sure. For a small site it had some mighty big inhabitants.

We moved on to the second engine and as we poked around we came across two nice sized blackfish in the 5lb range hiding between the spokes of the wheel and the side of the boiler. I swear the one played dead. He just laid on his side and didn’t move like “oops, you don’t want this one...move along“. I took my flashlight and clocked him right on the head. Apparently I didn’t hit him hard enough because as I grabbed him to pull him out he came to and wiggled out of my grasp and wedged himself farther inside the wreckage and out of my reach. I was “thiiis” close.

One more quick look around and up we went, heading right for the heated cabin and a snack. Rich had not gotten a goliath black fish, his reputation as a hunter must have preceded him and the big fish hid in fear while he was there.

Our second dive was to be the Macedonia, a 280 foot freighter sunk in June of 1899 in a collision with the ocean liner Hamilton, in 60 feet of water. It was rammed so hard by the Hamilton that she was wedged 12 feet into the freighter and most of the crew jumped onto the deck of the Hamilton before she broke free and left a gash so huge the freighter sank in half an hour. The Macedonia was owned by the Ward Lines. Sound familiar? She was part of the same fleet as the Mohawk, the second Mohawk, the Morro Castle, the Havana, the Algonquin, the City of Washington......

There was a bit of a surface current here and Ernie tied us in. I was using my new regs and computer for the first time and they were working out well for me, I switched to my trusty 3ml gloves, kitted up and reclaimed my title of Flash as Josh and I splashed in. There was a slight current at depth here and the visibility was about 10 feet with water temps around 48F.

This is really a sweet wreck. All you guys who pass up the chance to dive it because it is only 60 feet deep really are missing out. This is a huge contiguous debris field with impressive boilers and two propellers and all kinds of goodies.

Josh ran a line as we found ourselves jumping back and forth over hull plates looking about. The debris is covered in the usual sea life and there were a large assortment of blackfish begging to be poked with a spear and not a finger. I believe Howard accommodated them. Tucked in among the regular wreckage were several anchors, lost by unwitting fishermen, and a sinker garden where I stopped to harvest a few while Josh adjusted the reel. This is a wreck I could go back to.

Not a bad day on the water........Thank you Captain Howard, well done.....And Ernie great history lesson on the Locomotives....and Rich great suggestion of the Macedonia.....and Josh, my younger better looking dive buddy (his description by the way) (you better duck when you see Mark)we had fun. I will have to do this again.

The Locomotives and the Macedonia

I could never stay long enough on the shore. The tang of the untainted, fresh and free sea air. Was like a cool, quieting thought, and the shells and pebbles and the seaweed with tiny living creatures attached to it never lost their fascination for me. ~Helen Keller

My friends and family think I am crazy.....it doesn’t help when they ask where I am going...and I say diving....but its winter, what are you going to see?...choo choo trains.... Sometimes diving is hard to explain.

Sometime in the 1850’s, two small locomotives fell into the Atlantic Ocean and landed side by side, about 7 feet apart, upright, in 85 feet of water. They remain upright instead of sinking into the sand because there is a stone ledge not far below the sand forming a solid platform beneath these engines. And there is a Federal Court Order of Protection on these trains and no artifacts may be taken nor is any damaging of the trains allowed. You tie into a sand spike between the two instead of onto their wreckage and diving this with two members of the New Jersey Historical Society gives you some additional insight into the site and the plans to retrieve the trains.

As we readied to dive, Rich G. rolled over first to tie us in. His theory was that with the site being so small there would only be one fish worth taking on the wreck and he was going to get it.

Josh and I readied to follow him. As I geared up Ernie mentioned that other divers referred to me as “Flash“ due to my lightening speed. It is good to be recognized and know some people appreciate me. I did have usual my blonde moments, but must mention that I did have help this time. The gauntlet of my new 5ml gloves does not easily fit over my dry suit arms and I asked for some assistance. Ernie had to call in reinforcements and with Howard braced against the benches with my arm against him and Ernie pushing on the gloves they finally managed to get a recognizable imitation of the gloves on my hands, although they did mention that I might not want to try and run a reel or anything with them on. They then sat me on the gunwale and I rolled over...into the water....and couldn’t kick myself upright.....without fins.... We had worked so hard on the gloves, no one noticed. I climbed back aboard and was assisted into them and rolled in again.

The seas were flat and we dropped down and passed Rich on the line, both times down. About half way down the line Joshes suit started to flood and we surfaced to adjust his zipper before continuing to the bottom and about 20 foot of viz.

While much of the wooden structure of the engineers cabin has rotted away, and the salvageable hardware and the brass has long been removed, as you come upon this unusual sight there is no mistaking that they are trains. While encrusted in a thick growth of barnacles, hydras and anemones, they form a natural encasement of the engine, boilers, wheels and stacks of the engines and a definite outline of a train.

After a swim around each engine you have seen the entire sight. The six spoked wheels still fully intact in the special 2-2-2 (o0o) design of these engines which are center of the wreckage. The boilers and smoke stacks above. The doors to the engine furnaces encrusted over in sea life.

The rear of the engines have the most enormous anemones I have seen. They are impressive and we swam a second circuit to check out the locals. Towards the rear of the engine, just above the last wheel, the wooden cabin is no longer there allowing you to see through to the other side. And sitting in this space, framed by the rest of the engine sat an enormous blackfish, close to 3 feet long. Just hanging out. Josh and I looked at each other, I could not imagine what Rich had speared if he left this guy behind.

We moved on up to the front where the cow catcher grate would be and as we approached, I saw it. It was just a tail and it stuck out about 2 foot, but it was big around and I headed straight for it. I peeked inside and this eel ran the whole width of the train inside and with his head in and his tail out....he begged to be poked. My hand went out and like a shot Josh grabbed it and gave me the international sign for “No Cheryl, we don’t poke these, choose something else.” And he nudged me along just to be sure. For a small site it had some mighty big inhabitants.

We moved on to the second engine and as we poked around we came across two nice sized blackfish in the 5lb range hiding between the spokes of the wheel and the side of the boiler. I swear the one played dead. He just laid on his side and didn’t move like “oops, you don’t want this one...move along“. I took my flashlight and clocked him right on the head. Apparently I didn’t hit him hard enough because as I grabbed him to pull him out he came to and wiggled out of my grasp and wedged himself farther inside the wreckage and out of my reach. I was “thiiis” close.

One more quick look around and up we went, heading right for the heated cabin and a snack. Rich had not gotten a goliath black fish, his reputation as a hunter must have preceded him and the big fish hid in fear while he was there.

Our second dive was to be the Macedonia, a 280 foot freighter sunk in June of 1899 in a collision with the ocean liner Hamilton, in 60 feet of water. It was rammed so hard by the Hamilton that she was wedged 12 feet into the freighter and most of the crew jumped onto the deck of the Hamilton before she broke free and left a gash so huge the freighter sank in half an hour. The Macedonia was owned by the Ward Lines. Sound familiar? She was part of the same fleet as the Mohawk, the second Mohawk, the Morro Castle, the Havana, the Algonquin, the City of Washington......

There was a bit of a surface current here and Ernie tied us in. I was using my new regs and computer for the first time and they were working out well for me, I switched to my trusty 3ml gloves, kitted up and reclaimed my title of Flash as Josh and I splashed in. There was a slight current at depth here and the visibility was about 10 feet with water temps around 48F.

This is really a sweet wreck. All you guys who pass up the chance to dive it because it is only 60 feet deep really are missing out. This is a huge contiguous debris field with impressive boilers and two propellers and all kinds of goodies.

Josh ran a line as we found ourselves jumping back and forth over hull plates looking about. The debris is covered in the usual sea life and there were a large assortment of blackfish begging to be poked with a spear and not a finger. I believe Howard accommodated them. Tucked in among the regular wreckage were several anchors, lost by unwitting fishermen, and a sinker garden where I stopped to harvest a few while Josh adjusted the reel. This is a wreck I could go back to.

Not a bad day on the water........Thank you Captain Howard, well done.....And Ernie great history lesson on the Locomotives....and Rich great suggestion of the Macedonia.....and Josh, my younger better looking dive buddy (his description by the way) (you better duck when you see Mark)we had fun. I will have to do this again.

Does my SAC Rate Really Matter?

This SAC rate thing.....could it be over rated?

When I first started diving, I was diligent about writing down numbers, exact numbers, starting tank PSI and ending PSI and bottom time and hang time and then dividing and multiplying and dividing again and then factoring in depth and gear and currents and water temps and then taking into consideration the phase of the moon, the icecream flavor of the month and the price of tea in China.... I would have an exacting SAC rate which I would double check against the online SAC calculator. I still have a multifunction Scientific Texas Instrument calculator in the bottom of my dive bag because of this.

What I found was:
1. I didnt have a bad SAC rate
2. I didnt know any other girl divers to compare my rate to
3. All the guy divers I knew had higher SAC rates
4. Everyone knew girls have better SAC rates than guys and
5. No one cared what my SAC rate was.

I also found that for the diving I was doing.....my SAC rate really didn’t matter in terms of gas management. I was running out of NDL before gas, even with nitrox.

My dive planning was always around run times and NDL and my gas always more than sufficient. Life was good. I went to the bottom, poked the fish, saw the sights, came up and had gas to spare.

I logged my bottom time, my depths and kept up on my weighting, which I still struggle with. Noted what there was to see, which wrecks were best for the lobsters and where the mussels were. But starting and ending PSI slowly gave way to the variety of fish to poke and what was scattered about in the way of debris to put the ship whole again in my minds eye and unusual events. Which conditions of depth, temperature and visibility put the boogeyman at the end of the line and how I dealt with it. Boat ladders, crew and dive buddies. All details.

I always check my starting pressure when I set up my gear, I always check my PSI as I dive, and use it as a gauge of when to stop sightseeing and start back, and I always get back onboard with gas to spare. But I stopped tracking the actual numbers at some point.

Now, I am being called on the carpet for my laxness. I am looking towards doubles and when discussing it with my dive buddy I have been given a list of considerations to take into account as I move forward. My biggest considerations are weight and maneuverability. If I cant carry it, I do not think I should be diving it. So the big question comes down to size. HP 100’s, LP 85’s, or even 74’s are in the running. Hmmmmmm, how do I decide. Apparently, according to “someone”, gas management answers this question.

So, I consider what I want to dive, where I want to dive and how I want to dive it. I then consider how often that will happen.

For the immediate time being I will be diving the recreational limits and upsetting my computer with occasional 10-15 minute deco obligations. Soon...heliox and some of the deeper and more interesting things just outside my door. After that and some experience....advanced deco and more bottom time and a little deeper.....I just am not limited ever.......how do you plan for what you just cannot imagine.

There are so many things out there to see. More than enough under 100 ft to keep me busy the rest of my life, I am sure. But the history draws me. And the stories. And so many of them are right there, right out my back door, and just a little bit deeper than I should go right now. The big boy wrecks out by the canyon and the mudhole.... where the artifacts are found, the scallops are laying about, the big fish swim. The stories of the S-5 and the Texas Towers. I want to dive a submarine, the towers, a wreck with portholes still intact, see where the big fish swim and the octopus live, watch sea lions and dolphins play, see a wreck that hasn’t been dragged by the Coast Guard and pounded by the weather, do a dredging dive and a numbers run and discover something totally new. The things to see and the fish to poke........more than I can imagine....how do you finalize a list like this?

So what is the next question? How big a tank do you need? How do I find this out? Using math and my SAC rate. Jeesh!!!

Does my SAC rate really matter? Get out my trusty calculator and a pencil, then run the dives on V-planner and then figure that if I see a really big shark, or a whale, or I am dragging 100 scallops stuffed in my goody bag and my pockets that my SAC rate is out the window anyway. And in an emergency situation I think my condition would be more than “my heart is all aflutter” ...... so.....

Does my SAC rate really matter or should I figure my tank size on the average for where I want to dive and a little measure of added safety for me and my air hogging buddy. It troubles him that I dont track my air consumption. He cant see how I can choose my tanks without it. I cant see how I can limit myself with all there is out there.

I have no problem admitting...there is so much I dont know, have not seen, cannot imagine...and I promise to keep better track of my air consumption.....but in the end, does my SAC rate define the future of my diving or do I plan my dive around the moment. This wreck..... in these conditions...... using this set of tanks and equipment.....I can visit this long. I think doing the math is a guy thing.

Barnegat Ridges

It was cold this morning….O Dark Thirty…. and cold enough to wear my drysuit under roos to the boat. I had to drive myself to the marina…what is up with that? It was still dark out. What was I thinking? I could be home all snuggled in bed. I was thinking that we were getting some great dive days in and I didn’t want to miss them, that’s what.
I was heading for the Lady Godiver and diving with a group of friends - Jim, Steve, Jack, Bart, Ernie and Howard. An interesting day of diving and company. The seas were moving this morning with rolling swells in the 2-4 foot range and the sun came out shining. Not a bad day so far.
As we headed out past Barnegat Light we could see the remains of the scalloping boat that had grounded and fell over. Just lying there on its side on the shoal. It has been there a good part of a week and we wondered what would become of it. We wondered if you could dive it, we are divers, that is what we do. And we wondered if it was salvageable and when it would be moved too.
We headed out to the Gulftrade, but it had a fishing boat sitting on it so we headed to the Sea Hag, which was also occupied and finally on to the South Ridge. The South Ridge is an unnamed unidentified wooden wreck, located on the Barnegat Ridge, that is quite broken down but goes on and on.
Two tries to hook in and the Captain was not feeling the love. I believe, at one point, I heard the boat was going up for sale as soon as we got back. We got pulled off the wreck twice by errant swells and he ordered a shot line dropped. In minutes we were tied in and ready to go.
I was buddying up with Ernie for this dive and it was the first time for both of us on this site, so down the line we went not knowing what to expect. We arrived at the sand at 80fsw and much to our delight we had 64F water temperatures and 30 foot of visibility. Woo Hoo!
Ernie tied in his reel and checked out a hole with fresh dark sand in front. You know there is always a lobster at the tie in…but alas we were not the first ones down and it was empty. We moved on peeking all around and did not see anymore lobster but we did find lots of other friends to play with. The sea bass and black fish and blue fish were plentiful and big, really big. They were swimming over and in among the wreckage. Each time we came to the end of a piece of wreckage we could see the next piece and headed out to it. There were some scattered starfish and moonsnails and each time we moved to a piece of wreckage we came across piles of fluke stacked one on top of the other in the sand and they were huge. They just layed there, I am sure thinking “Ha! Ha! Out of season…you loose” But…… I poked them anyway, poking is still in season. Since there were no lobsters to hunt, Ernie got into the fun of things and started poking them himself. Another convert….you are all coming over…don’t fight it.
I had one rather large guy just buried in the sand looking at me with both eyes (that both eyes on the same side of the head thing takes some getting used to) and I opened my catch bag to see if I could get him to just scoot on in. I knew I couldn’t keep him but it would have made one heck of a story. I juuuust missed him. You know I will be trying this again, it’s like a challenge now, Coe-Ed Fluke Wrestling Diving …hmmmm.
It was time to turn and we headed back in, stopping at section of planking making a shallow cavern for the local sea life. Ernie was on one side and I peeked in on the other. In between the boards Ernie spotted a large spade fish and scooted it over for me to see. Upon seeing this fish I immediately poked him back towards Ernie so he could see him. We ended up playing water hockey with this poor fish for several minutes before he got pissed and swam off in another direction.
Back at the line we headed up and as I looked at my computer I had 5 minutes of deco and for the Iife of me couldn’t figure out why. As I hung on the line it came to me….I had forgotten to enter my nitrox mix into the computer before going in. Oh well, 2 more minutes of hang wasn’t necessary but wasn’t going to kill me.
As I arrived on deck, Howard was getting ready to go in. With all the talk of clear warm water and big fish everywhere, he had to go down and see for himself.
We had an enjoyable surface interval and regaled each other with stories of the dive and other subjects. We didn’t talk about Mark. He shouldn’t miss dives. And soon Howard was back on board with his catch bag bulging. He had definitely shot the biggest sea bass of the day, it was huge. And he was smiling and all was right with the world again. The boat was no longer for sale. It is amazing what ills a good dive can cure.
We could have stayed here for a second dive but it was getting late and we headed for the East Ridge on the way in.
The sun was shining and the seas had laid down some, life was good. We arrived on the site and dropped the line in and the pool was open. This wreck is identical to the last in that it is broken down and unidentified and lying on the Barnegat Ridge, but sits at 90fsw.
We dropped over the side and went on down, this time I was to run the reel. The day before we were talking about reels and I had mentioned how mine was temperamental and I had just run it the dive before, determined to find the problem and fix it or buy a new reel. Of course the reel had operated flawlessly and of course upon hitting the sand, I had not pulled out 3 inches of line before it jammed. Big time jam. I ended up cutting about 6 or feet of line off before clearing it and after tying it in we moved out. The visibility was cloudier on this site and there was a bit of a current on the bottom. I spent a good part of the dive staring at my reel while Ernie jammed his arm in holes everywhere after lobster. There were many fewer fish here but each hole had someone home. Most you could see were shorts but the first one he pulled out was over 3 lbs and had probably another pound of eggs, so back she went. And she was pissed! Most crustaceans her size didn’t get that big by being stupid and would have been back, way back, in their hole in a heart beat. This one just stood there brandishing her claws and snapping away, I swear she tried to jump up and get me as I swam over her. Never under estimate a womans scorn. As we moved along Ernie managed to grab two more in the 2-3 lb range but they were also with eggs and went on back. The rest were shorties and at one point he found one really tiny bugger (pun intended) so small it was hiding in a clam shell.
It was just about time to turn around when we saw the blinking of the strobe on the line. We had made a huge circle, but still had to wind the line back in, and so headed on back. My reel had worked flawlessly out and back…so frustrating. At the tie in we headed up and at about 5 foot up the line my computer blinked and gave me deco time again….this time 15 minutes! Ernie kept shaking his head, he was still well within his limits…what was up with mine?
Ernie hung with me for most of the time and he was running low on air and headed up as I finished my time out. Now I know why guys with planned deco bring toys with them…how boring. I got onboard and we waited for the last of the other divers to come up before we headed on in.
A few more lobster came up this dive but everyone reported pulling out several females laden with eggs. What is up with that? Was this a wreck for wayward lobster? All single mothers? Abandoned after a night of lobster whoopee? Where were the guys!!! They should be boiled and soaked in drawn butter!!! Ahh….
A nice relaxing ride in … a few laughs…. 2 lbs of peanut butter pretzels… Think I might have to do this diving thing again.

My Bob

I found my “Bob” #3053 in February of 2007 on Alhambra Beach, Venice Beach, Florida……. "Bobs" are numbered cement shark teeth that are planted around Venice Beach to keep divers interested in searching for shark teeth and possibly finding that one real meg.
The Story....
There is a gentleman in Venice Beach Fl. who makes these fake shark's teeth...His name is Bob, and he is as much a legend in VB as dive operators think he is a menace (unsuspecting noobs bring their "Bobs" to the dive shop thinking they found the mother load of a tooth - for Bobs that are black, or black and grey)
Bob's wife won't let him make them just anywhere in the house... He is relegated to the bathroom (Hence... Water Closet Productions)
Periodically through the year, Bob will make dives at VB and seed the bottom with his "Bobs", or he may just place one on the entrance signage to the beach.
Finding one (they can be pretty heavy) is a pain. You have to carry it around for the rest of the dive... most people don't carry a bag big enough to fit a Bob...
It's all very humorous, and most of us appreciate the man, the legend ... The Bob!

As told by ~ Cooltech

My Bob

I found my “Bob” #3053 in February of 2007 on Alhambra Beach, Venice Beach, Florida……."Bobs" are cement fake shark teeth which are sometimes painted like a dive flag and are numbered on the back....the gentleman who makes them places them around Venince Beach to keep divers interested in diving the area and looking for that one real meg sharks tooth.

There is a gentleman in Venice Beach Fl. who makes these fake shark's teeth...His name is Bob, and he is as much a legend in VB as dive operators think he is a menace (unsuspecting noobs bring their "Bobs" to the dive shop thinking they found the mother load of a tooth - for Bobs that are black, or black and grey)
Bob's wife won't let him make them just anywhere in the house... He is relegated to the bathroom (Hence... Water Closet Productions)
Periodically through the year, Bob will make dives at VB and seed the bottom with his "Bobs", or he may just place one on the entrance signage to the beach.
Finding one (they can be pretty heavy) is a pain. You have to carry it around for the rest of the dive... most people don't carry a bag big enough to fit a Bob...
It's all very humorous, and most of us appreciate the man, the legend ... The Bob!

As told by ~ Cooltech

.

Shark River Inlet

Ocean: A body of water occupying about two-thirds of a world made for man - who has no gills ~ Ambrose Bierce

I have been wanting to dive the Shark River Inlet for some time...it is right in my back yard, and I have been diving all around it...but something has always come up and I just never got to dive there ... until now.
Last night, in the middle of the night, Josh, Tom and I dropped in to see what was up. High tide was at 10:30pm and I wanted to try an MK25 reg set out so we met early and moved my hoses and mouth piece on over to one and then set out for the inlet. Josh just bought the same regulator and was diving it for the first time so we would get to compare notes.
They wanted to go in on the ocean side and this required a climb down the rocks, not a natural rock stairway, but up over and around wet slimy boulders in the dark. I made it down and got in the water and found myself wedged and straddling an underwater boulder. This actually worked out as I wasn’t going anywhere with the current and could put on my gloves and mask and make last minute adjustments with no worries with the current. Unfortunately it did not work as well for putting on fins and I struggled for a minute extracting myself from my perch to find a better spot to get on my fins. Ready and we dropped on down.
The water was unbelievably clear and while I do not have a canister light, like my dive buddies, my light worked just great and things came to life. We were swimming against the current on the way out and I hugged the rocks for some relief as I looked about, taking an occasional fin to the head from Tom if he stopped short.
First thing we came across on the bottom was a beautiful red and white sea robbin about 18 inches long just hanging about and upon a slight poke from someone who shall remain nameless, it scurried off in a tiff. We then immediately came across several flounder, winter flounder, fluke, sundials.... We discussed this at length later in the evening and honestly think there was one of everything there... But anyway after sending one or two on their way I just reached out and grabbed one. Yes.... grabbed it and now I had this fish firmly locked in both hands and no idea what to do... No goody bag and they are out of season anyway, but still, Tom and Josh’s lights are on me and we are all just smiling into our regs. I let him go and he took off like a shot.
We checked in and about on the rocks and there were several small crabs and three or four short lobsters. Josh began waving his light and we went to see what he found. It was an enormous shrimp out in the sand all by himself. We kind of encircled him like a wagon train and watched him for a minute before he jumped up on top of my hand (he was longer than my hand is wide, and then he took off and we were on our way.
There were small crabs out looking for dinner and larger crabs nestled in the cracks and crevices and the rocks were covered in different sponges and other life making for a colorful trip out and with a signal from Josh we turned to go back. We encountered the same assortment of sealife on the way back but since we were not fighting the current as hard we spent some additional time in the sand looking about. We passed over a large american eel just swimming about and grabbed at several more too small lobsters as we headed in.
It was time to go up and as we surfaced, one quick look up at the rocks reminded me why it was so much nicer in the water. It was a mountain goat climb up the rocks to the shore and then, of course, UP a set of stairs to the street and our cars. And one quick look down just made me shake my head, after carefully wiping and lubing the o-ring, I had flooded yet one more light.
As we broke down our gear we talked about the dive, divers never gossip so we surely didn’t talk about anyone else, we discussed past dives and sights and of course....we compared notes on the MK25 regulators.
Josh and I both agreed that they breathed very dry , I especially noticed it since I normally use the Sherwood Oasis which retains and re-circulates moisture. It obviously works because the difference was noticeable. Josh was not comfortable with the mouth piece, he thought it was short and made his jaw tired trying to hold on and will replace his. I was using my familiar mouthpiece which is longer but did notice the difference in shape from my Sherwood which is oval shaped and the MK25 is more round. While I find the oval shape to be more comfortable I think I will just have to get used to the feeling of the rounder , which actually takes a little more effort to retain, as that seems to be the shape of all the other regulators. Both Josh and I never moved the valve from surface to underwater position when we descended. My 5ml gloves just don’t allow me any fine motor dexterity. But they still breathed very smoothly. I will have to think on this a bit but it is not a bad regulator overall. And the Shark River is not a bad dive either.

Diving With Frnak

I did not have a fun Saturday and I hadn’t been wet since Ernie and I tried to swim to Indiana, so I went to Dutch Springs on Sunday….we had a mission.
I left at O’Dark Thirty….does this ever end? Only this time it was 29 F. For those of you that slept in….that means Hot Dang it was cold and dark! Somewhere on Rt 78E I asked myself “are we having fun yet?” I must be crazy….
I arrived at Dutch and met Nick, Terry and Frnak for a day of diving…we had a “mission” and they weren’t telling…. Loose lips sink ships…..but they had a crowbar, hammer and chisel all attached to double enders. Some serious stuff.
Nick made the rounds like a greeter at Walmart, stopping to say hi to everyone while we unloaded our gear... It was now 35F, warming up nicely….Ernie stopped by while his tech class was getting organized…he worked these guys to the bone by the way, they were the last ones off the peninsula that night.
Anyway, back to me…I was buddied with Nick and our plan was to complete “phase one” of the “mission” without silting up the bottom and then Nick and I were going to go to the old airplane while Terry and Frnak completed the mission.
I think the other two got lost cause we got there first and that never happens with Frnak the Olympic swimmer. Either way I hovered flawlessly and was not responsible for the less than optimal visibility….we were soon on our way and as usual my directional and spatial skills are a work in progress…while I remember all the stuff I saw, I have no idea where I was. We saw 2 cars, a big boat, the big tree, the telephone pole that is laying in the silt and the one standing up with the signs, tanker, crane, trolley, toilet bowl and the kitchen sink, and of course the old airplane that was replaced with a newer version.
We had 10-20 foot vis and the zebra mussels all had their tongues out and I spent some time trying to catch one, The. water temps were in the 50’s and there was a decidedly abrupt thermo cline. As we approached the airplane we passed the big tree and the thermo cline hung almost exactly mid tree in thick cloudy layers making this lone huge tree look eerie, like something out of a movie. I only saw 2 fish this dive and I thought it odd, but the water is cooling off….
We arrived back at the dock after 50 minutes of leisurely swimming with gas to spare. Frnak and Terry came in after 80 minutes, “mission” accomplished, and we had our usual leisurely surface interval.
Nick had to leave and I buddied with Frnak and Terry for the second dive. This was planned as a leisurely stroll to the wall and in we went. It must have been low tide as there were layers of crumbly rock exposed directly in front of the docks and it was a long walk down. After picking my way down hill and into the water we readied to sightsee.
We had a great dive, Frnak went nice and slow and we took in all the scenery. There were more fish this time several large ones and some small ones also. One large bass tried hiding in the weeds and Terry had a good time outing him. Later as we hit the big boat on our way in I showed my lack of directional skills as I had no idea where we were and was getting low on air. Frnak pulled out his octo and waved it in front of me. We were only about 30 yards from shore and swam on over. There my AAD kicked in as I forgot I was low on air and started to chase two huge yellow koi before I came back to complete my hang under the docks.
Maybe the dives were not exciting enough to warrant a trip report…. But the company was stellar. And that is part of what diving is all about. Enjoying seeing everyone on the peninsula and diving with the boys. Oh…and if you haven’t figured out what the “mission” was yet…don’t feel bad, neither have I.
Frnak says we went here for dive 2:
Descended west side of peninsula. Followed heading 145 degrees to crane and island. Crossed over island to south side. Follow rocky edge to beer can pointing to a fallen electric pole (RFL). From the electric pole we followed heading 150 degrees to a small ridge. On the ridge there were things that looked like sawhorses. There were also long pieces of hose scattered about. We continued on 150. We crossed a road and reached the southwall. On the south wall we ascended to 15 ft. to the old plane. While ascending on the south wall we noticed that the wall was completely striped of all plant life. We wondered how could this happen. And Why?
We left the plane and descended to 65ft. From there we followed heading 345 degrees to the tanker. We continued on 345 to east tip of island. From there it was 355 to Silver Comet and home. now I am tired....it was not such a relaxing dive after all...it was far.
How do you remember all that? I just remember the fish....and one really long piece of hose...and the fish.

Ernest Goes West

SCUBA diving is not considered a good exercise for aerobic conditioning. If SCUBA divers do everything "right," by maintaining neutral buoyancy, drifting with currents, and breathing slowly and deeply while underwater, they should expend less energy than when resting on land. MICHAEL STRAUSS, Diving Science

We have a visiting diver in our midst for a few weeks, Nick, aka Puddles himself, and he was bored with hotel life and wanted to get wet. Despite our efforts to plan either boat or beach, Mother Nature kept blocking our path. But we were not to be deterred….. we dove anyway
The waves wouldn’t cooperate for a boat dive and the continuing rain and murky water made the beach dive less than appealing, although Josh really lobbied for it. Next time Josh.
And so we ended up at our old standby, the railroad bridge. By the time we were done, what started out as a fair sized group had whittled down to just four hearty souls, Nick, Ernie, Josh and myself. (the others were the smart ones).
As the last of the light faded, we geared up in a light rain, and Ernie outfitted Nick with a singles setup since he only had doubles with him. We peered out at the black water and wondered if it was moving to slack tide yet. You have to love Josh, he didn’t see any current (he didn’t see anything, it was pitch dark out) so he was ready to go.
We were in the water putting on our fins when Nicks light failed and he was left just with his backup. We realigned out groups for optimal lighting and set out, Nick with Josh and Ernie and myself, with every intention of staying together. Oh yea….the best laid plans……
We dropped down and had not made 2 fin kicks when I grabbed Ernies hand. We were in 0 viz and I wasn’t about to loose him. What Josh and Nick did about it, I have no idea. We headed on down and the visibility opened up to a whopping 2 to 2 ½ foot. I could feel the current under the bridge already and knew we were in for a ride.
As we passed under the bridge I didnt get to look around much at the flora and fauna as I was pretty busy bobbing and weaving the rubble of the old bridge as it appeared rather close… rather quickly as we sped through. There were still hundreds of starfish and small crabs and an occasional small striped bass.
The usual dive for this site is to ride the last of the incoming current through the bridge, hug the bottom out towards the marina and then hang a right and follow the rock ledges along the railroad tracks back to the bridge, back through the bridge on the outgoing tide and then up the canal on the north side until you see signs of the party boats and then back into the bulkhead and out. A relaxing circuit using the tides to your advantage, but now back to the dive at hand…
As the rubble from the old bridge cleared, we swam shoulder to shoulder fanning our lights and looking about. Tons of starfish were locked around muscles enjoying their nightly meals. All really small, some just the size of my thumb, blueclaw crabs and all with an attitude, especially if you poked them. The cutest little bitty hermit crabs were scurrying about and of course the moon snails. I love to pick them up and watch them suck aaaallllll that huge body into their little shell. There were anchovy scattered about the bottom and stripers. Big stripers, in the 2 to 2 ½ foot range. And with the poor viz we came upon them rather quickly startling them as much as they startled us in the dark water. This took some getting used to but by the 3rd or 4th time I was poking and grabbing as we went on past.
Ernie was looking regularly at his compass and I was diligently keeping up and not getting lost as we went along. We then came upon some rocks and a wall that we moved along, with indents and hidey holes and growth up and down. I was looking in and about for some eels and other things and thinking “I don’t remember the rocks along the tracks looking like this….must be farther down than usual”. And then the wall ended and sandy bottom began again…and then a piling…and then sandy bottom and then…..Ernie signed “up”. As we broke the surface and looked around, we both had the same thought “This isn’t Kansas anymore Toto”. Where the hell were we?
There was a marina with really big boats…a bridge with no shoreline in sight and a lot of open water, and nothing looked familiar. Ut whoa. Question was…were we in the bay on the Point Pleasant side or had we cleared the island and were heading for Manasquan? We had only been drifting for 18 minutes, but it was one heck of a current and it could be a long walk back. The surface current was not as bad as the bottom and we pulled ourselves over to the wall to take advantage of the eddy current while we regrouped. The plan was to surface swim back under the bridge and see if we could find a familiar landmark on the far side.
Well, I am pretty sure we swam for a mile or 2, at least that is what a 10 minute surface swim against the current feels like…. But we cleared the bridge and I could make out the unique lighted roofline of the marina near the train bridge in the distance. Dang! we had shot clear through the marina and under the big bridge and were on our way to Clarks Landing for last call the way we went!
We took a heading and dropped down to fin on home. I stopped to play with another moon snail along the way and relocated a small hermit crab dropping him off near an abandoned cinderblock. We then swam though a school of about 15 “mature” striped bass. There was a mad dash for everyone to get out of each others way and as one shot underneath me I made a grab for him almost smacking into a piece of bottom debris that appeared out of the murk. I love poking fish… Some familiar looking debris started appearing out of nowhere (remember the 2 foot viz here) and we were back under the bridge and home again. We saw a light penetrating ahead of us and thought we had found our wayward buddies and so we surfaced. Unfortunately, some additional equipment issues had cut their dive short just after the bridge but next week, we will try to get Nick out again.

Mohawk in October

Me thoughts I saw a thousand fearful wrecks,A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon,Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,All scattered in the bottom of the sea. – William Shakespeare

The forecast was ominous and it was freezing when I arrived at the dock. But the skies were clear and the wind had died down. We hurried to load everything on board the Blue Fathoms.

It was decided not to tempt fate and stay close to home, so we were headed out to the Mohawk….a wreck I have been on before.

I know I already told you about her but here are a few more facts. The “first” Mohawk was a Clyde Liner that burned and sank in the Delaware Bay on New Years Day in 1925. Her replacement, “this” Mohawk was built in 1926 and in 1929 in heavy fog it collided with the steamship Jefferson and had to run aground in Seabright where the passengers were lowered into lifeboats and rescued by the Coast Guard.

They repaired her and since they were short a vessel after loosing the Morro Castle (seeing a trend here?) they put her back into service from New York to Havana, Cuba.

It left New York for Havana on January 25, 1935, as did the freighter, Talisman, which was headed to Bahia, Brazil.

The two ships collided and while the Talisman was able to limp back to port, the Mohawk sunk fast. The air was so cold that the lifeboats were frozen to their rigging and had to be cut loose with axes and hand knives crushing crew members and sliding on the deck dumping passengers into the freezing ocean water. The ship sank and rolled over with life boats still frozen in place. 35 people were found dead and 10 more remained missing despite the fact that the Algonquin was on site picking up survivors within 45 minutes. The Captain went down with the ship.

At the tribunal it was decided the Mohawk was at fault for the collision but the Talisman was at fault for not trying to rescue the survivors, they never even lowered their lifeboats to pull people from the water.

Within 24 hours, President Franklin Roosevelt urged for Safety at Sea Regulations, a bill for marine safety, targeting building materials and loading standards.

Since the ship could not be salvaged and was blocking the shipping channels it was blown up and wire dragged….I love the fact that during WWII the wreckage was mistaken for a German U-Boat by a blimp and blown up one last time.

We geared up and threw ourselves into water that was warmer than the air at 63F. The water was flat, calm and clear clouding slightly as we descended onto the pointy end of the wreck. We set about looking around. The bow is the most recognizable portion of the ship and we swam all around it. Looking about in the mangle wreckage we noted a huge blackfish hiding and made note to tell Al, the clubs new Vice President and big fish spearer.

There was a big ocean pout hiding under one of the hull plates and I tried to thump him with my flashlight but missed, later we came across a really large conger eel in his hole and as I went to extend my arm, Mark gave me the “oh no…don’t do that” sign..twice. So I didn’t poke him. We saw another smaller eel and more pout along with several types of starfish and myriads of baitfish, blackfish, sea bass, stripers and tog in various sizes.

Our time was up and we headed up the line. Al had speared himself a fish, although not as large as the one on his last dive….and lobster came up also. Some hot soup and dive banter ensued until it was time to go in again.

I made a less than graceful entry with my gear coming loose but righted myself and down we went again, this time running the reel out in another direction. More ocean pout and eels in the hidey holes and several really large crabs, but no lobsters appeared. At one point we looked down and there was an enormous white, pout, eel looking fish lying quietly on the bottom. He looked to be in some sort of distress and we let him be.

Farther along Mark reached down and pulled up a tile, one of the octagonal marble tiles that the wreck is known for. Sweet. We turned and headed back to the tie in and poked around the debris there. Apparently one pound sinkers grow in patches on the bottom of the ocean and I was busy harvesting a half dozen of or so for whatever reason, when I see Mark locked in a life or death battle with something in a large pipe. He came up empty handed but he was not giving up. As he waited for another chance I looked down and saw another set of keeper claws and made a grab for them myself. I came away with one antennae and Mark had not faired any better. Our computers were telling us our time was up and we headed for the surface.

While we came up empty handed, (except for the tile, an antenna, sinkers and a shell) Walter, Al and Rick had faired much better with fish and lobster disbursed among them.

63F water temps, 2 foot seas and 15 foot of viz…. another great day of diving.

Ocean City Maryland

"The sea is everything. It covers seven tenths of the terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and healthy. It is an immense desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all sides."

~ Jules Verne….20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

Confusion is my middle name and that is how Friday started out….we got a little of a late start as everyone scrambled with last minute stuff to get ready….but then, we were off. We had left too late to catch the last ferry so we drove on down, Mark, Big Jim and myself, with Jim at the wheel, and arrived in Ocean City, Maryland late but with no problems.
We checked into the rooms and passed out. Our 5:30AM wake up would come way too quickly.
We were up and at WaWa, someone’s favorite “restaurant”, bright and early getting lunch for the day and then on to the diner for breakfast. We met the rest of the group there and fueled up for the start of the day. And what a group we were. Mark, Jim and myself…Bob another local diver and Chris, a friend of the captains…the Shore Scuba Crew of Dave, Eugene, Kenny, John and Patty…and the infamous Captain Rob of Pirate King fame.
After loading up the boat, we pulled out in somewhat foggy conditions, but with great expectations. Our destination had changed several times before ever arriving in Maryland and as we headed out, it changed once again.
We were now on our way to the Saetia, a 322 foot coal fired steam engine that was sunk on November 9, 1918 after hitting a mine from the U-117. All 65 of her crew got off safely and she then sank quickly in 110 feet of water.
We were all exhausted on our way out, the Shore Scuba guys had arrived after we did, and everyone settled in for a little nap. I was forward on the bunks with Mark in the outer room bunk and Jim at the top of the stairs. Patty was in what was to become her favorite napping position, she just laid her forehead on the table and went to sleep. And the rest of the gang just lay strewn about. I could just not sleep as the fog and humidity had everything wet and my allergies were kicking in so I got up and opened the cabin door to note “smoke” coming through the louvers of the closet door. I very calmly said “Mark, should there be smoke coming out of there?” He jumped straight up, not sat up, not one end up and then the other but his entire body went straight up in the air, Jim came flying down the stairs along with Eugene and the captain was there not 5 seconds later. I had definitely gotten everyone’s attention. Turns out it was steam and it was overflow from one of the engines overheating, but it was enough to wake everyone up and get their blood pumping.
We were just about at the dive sight so we busied ourselves getting ready. Jim tied us in and Mark, Chris and I jumped in first to go down and meet him. I knew we were on the wreck when I hit it. Visibility was the length of my arm and I have short arms. Hugging close to the wreck we headed out to see if things would improve but no luck. I kept one hand on the wreck as we moved along and stayed close to Mark. From what I could see it looked like this would have been a nice dive under better conditions. There were a myriad of nooks and crannies to look in and surprisingly we found no lobsters hiding in any of them and the growth on the outside of the wreck seemed to have a bit of a red glow. We headed out a bit into the sand and occasionally came across some debris but you had to run head first into it to see it so we headed back in and up.
Bob jumped in as we came up, he was going to pull the hook, and as he did his SMB made an escape attempt. Mark leapt into action and repeated his New Years rescue dive. Without a word or hesitation he jumped over and recaptured the errant gear. Once again, his rescue training paying off.
Topside things were not looking up and we were going to continue in on one engine. While we talked about the situation and had lunch we were visited by….a whale! It breached the water directly in front of us and we all stood at the bow and waited for it to surface again. We were not disappointed when it came up again about 100 feet off of our port side and you could see that it again swam under eyeing us up to see what we were all about. Directly afterwards we watched what appeared to be a fin again about 100 feet off of our port side and we guessed at what it could be. Turns out, it was one enormous sea turtle and that was its head sticking out of the water we could see from so far away. Not bad for one lunch interval. We immediately followed this with 10 lbs of cookies and 10 lbs of Nestles crunch bars and Reeses peanut butter cups. (John took quite the fancy to the peanut caramel cups) and upon us all entering a sugar induced coma the captain headed on in.
On the way in we made our second stop on the Arthur T Hall, a 165 foot coast guard buoy tender, sitting upright in about 120 foot of water. This wreck is intact with even the railings still in place with the top sitting at about 70 feet and swim throughs at the main deck and below. We were greeted with about 10 - 15 feet of visibility (what a difference a few miles makes) and water in the mid 60’s range. We really enjoyed this dive swimming from deck to deck and looking all about. While there was growth all about the wreck, it looked like a ship and you could make out where you were going and what you wanted to see next.
After coming up we headed on to the marina. It would be a long ride home on one engine but we would be fine.
We were met by the dive shop truck taking our tanks for fills and we headed back to the hotel for a shower and dinner.
We were meeting the shop to pick up our tanks at 5:30AM and for the life of me I can’t figure why diving has to occur at such ungodly hours. The fog was still with us as we headed out once more. This time we were doing 2 dives on the Washingtonian and then calling it a trip.
The Washingtonian was a short lived 407 foot freighter. Built in 1914, it was carrying a cargo of sugar from Honolulu when, in January of 1915, it collided with the 300 foot, 5 masted wooden schooner Elizabeth Palmer and sank upside down in 90 – 100 feet of water. The collision caused a huge hole in her starboard side and she sank fast, but luckily all of her crew escaped in lifeboats. There is not much left of the Elizabeth Palmer, once the largest wooden schooner a float, but for a few ribs sticking from the sand with the majority of the wreck lying buried, but the Washingtonian still has enormous boilers and a mass of broken hull plates and such a long debris field that there is still a lot to see.
We arrived at the Washingtonian, a little slowly, but without incident and tied in. Well… a little trouble with the tie in but Jim took one heck of a tour with the chain. He came up reporting sharks abounding on the wreck and 20-30 foot of viz. Divers clamored to get in the water.
The top of the boilers came quickly into view as we descended and schools of fish swam over it. Most of the sharks had retreated and just remnants remained. But the boilers were impressive. The rows of rivets up their sides looked like hand holds for a climbing wall. They were as wide across as my hand and rows of them lined the sides. There were several abandoned nets and ropes laying hanging in several spots and definite thermo clines as you made your way to the sand.
Visibility was close at the bottom and we ran a reel and tried moving out into the sand to see if it cleared. Diver fin error was not the reason we couldn’t see and we headed back and looked about the hull plates debris surrounding the boilers. There were some sea bass and tog swimming about and as we came to the end of a piece of wreckage I caught sight of 2 enormous black fish swimming around the corner and disappearing into the wreckage. A large lone trigger fish tried valiantly to fit in the middle of a school of bait fish and spade fish were about. As we headed up, I was looking up at the light coming through the water and the outline of our boat when Mark tapped me on the shoulder and pointed down. The fog must have burned off and the ambient light lit up the wreck below us and the schooling fish below us put on a show to watch throughout our hang time. We were warm, relaxed and entertained, I could definitely do a second dive here.
During the surface interval we snacked and ate and snacked…this group will never starve…
I walked up to the bow and there were bodies strewn about napping…I had to laugh…I noted out loud that the scene looked like something out of a movie where the boat had been adrift for 3 days and the captain immediately threatened to throw me overboard if I continued. This was apparently another sugar induced incident as there was a milk crate filled with candy wrappers in the center of the deck. Ken admitted to knowing where the last Caramel peanut butter cup was hidden but never did divulge the information. I moved to the stern of the boat and we proceeded to eat pistachio nuts and try our darnedest to throw them overboard, into the wind…apparently the entire boat was in a laxidazical mood.
Mark had our surface interval timed and was soon nudging me along to get back into the water. We took the camera this time to see if we could get some shark pics, but as we reached the wreck there were none about so he tied it off to the line and we took off to explore some more.
We again ran out the line of hull plates looking about and then over the wreckage to the other side. Down one end we came across an abandoned grapple and decided to come back for it later. We went out in the sand and there were large flounder swimming about. As we went along I notices something strange in the sand below and I headed for it. It was 4 or 5 flounder all piled one on top of the other and buried in the sand. You know without a doubt what I did…….I poked them and they took off in a hurry. Mark had not seen them and when they scattered I could here him yell “holy sh**!!” into his reg. That got a smile out of me and on we went swimming up and over and about through schools of fish and wreckage. The water was cooling and the bottom thermo cline was moving up noticeably. Before we headed up we went over to retrieve the grapple and Mark carried it with him.
At the line I took the camera (do we see a problem here? Yup) and we headed on up. As we were hanging a school of huge spade fish just engulfed us and swam about. They were close enough to reach out and touch. Mark was urging me to take pictures, but like the blonde who holds the camera backwards I just couldn’t get the thing to work. Mark did reach over finally and turn it on but I still was not having much luck and I don’t think I ever got a picture. Oh well…
When we got up we started to break down our gear and get ready to head in….one slight problem was a clip on the line stuck over a knot and a volunteer was needed to jump in and free it. Someone who was still in their suit….I hated that back zipper at this moment…..and made a mental note to take the suit off first from now on…. I jumped in and swam over and freed the clip and climbed back on board. As soon as the guys hauled in the anchor we would be on our way home.
Once back at the marina we loaded our gear in the truck and said our good byes…we were heading back to the hotel for a quick shower and making a beeline for the last ferry to NJ. The Pirate King was going to make the trip back to Cape May in the morning…I wish it luck.

Lady Godiver

Wouldst thou – so the helmsman answered - Learn the secret of the sea?
Only those who brave its dangers - Comprehend its mystery!
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Leisurely…..That is how I would describe arriving at the dock at 7:30AM. Leisurely….That is how I would describe the day. Nice. Nice and leisurely.

I was invited to join a group of divers on the Lady Godiver, with Captain Howard and with no 6AM boat call, I liked their style already.

It was cool out this morning…not cold… not autumn brisk…just cool. But the day held promise. We loaded on board and I was pleasantly surprised I that I either knew or knew of all the divers today, Captain Howard, Bartman, Jack, Francis, Rich, Mark and myself. The sun was shining and the seas were not flat but they were comfortable as we headed out.

The decision was made to go somewhere with high relief due to the currents and the Big NW Barge was chosen. This is the largest of the pieces of wreckage in the Northwest Barges which I had been diving on just a few weeks before, a group of 6 to 8 barges in about 70-75 fsw off the coast of Barnegat Light.

We talked diving on the way out. Places to go, places we have been, they are a very well traveled group and a wealth of knowledge. The sun warmed things up and although it appeared that the powers that be were messing with us, the numbers were slightly off, it didn’t faze these guys in the least. After a little coordination and cooperation between Howard and Jack we were right on the sight and dropping anchor.

Bart tied us in and one by one divers geared up and rolled in the water. Howard graciously set up the granny line. I don’t know if it was something they usually did or if he had heard of my legendary navigational abilities, but either way it was appreciated. We went down the line through a haze of green water and jellyfish. There were a mixture of different of jellies and even some of the “mystery egg casings” from my last Railroad Bridge dive. They seemed to like the warmer surface temps and as we reached the sand they had thinned considerably.

I was running the reel this time (don’t laugh, I can do that) and Mark was playing tourist (and even poked a fish or two). I wanted to run out my reel and see how it was working as I had some trouble with it sticking earlier in the season. The visibility was hazy and in the 5-10 foot range at the bottom of the line. I tied on to a piece of the wreck and almost immediately ran head first into a large wire trap that had been opened and upended. Scared the doody out of me but did remind me that I had to look up and not at my reel as we went along. Mark gave me a few reel pointers as we moved about and as we continued the visibility improved slightly and my navigational abilities improved immensely. I have been spoiled not having to run the line often and this was good practice for me.
We ran out a good portion of the reel before turning back (I don’t think I ever ran my reel out all the way…I don’t know if the line is tied to the spool or not…I should check that) and upon reaching the anchor took a swim the other way. At 77 fsw the bottom temperatures were only 63F, we have cooled down some and the wildlife was sparse. I did see a nice sized set of claws in a hole in the wreckage but there wasn’t a lot of room to reach in, as the opening was narrow and angled, and after a few tries I moved on.

I diligently reeled my little heart out and we were back at the tie in. My new steel 119 was performing admirably and while I still had plenty of gas left I was running low on NDL, so we poked around a little bit at the tie in before heading up.

Another new ladder for me to try. I felt some wiggle in my tank as I climbed up, I would have to adjust my harness next dive but for now, with some help, I was over and making my way to the bench. It wasn’t bad….a few more tries and I will have the hang of it.

We lounged about and snacked as we waited for the rest of the divers to come up, just enjoying the day and the company. When all were accounted for we readied for the next site. Rich had been wanting to go to the Viscaya all season and we were going to give it a try.

As we approached the Viscaya we could see another boat on the site fishing. We were out on the ocean, the sun was shining and this was not they only wreck in the sea. No problem….Oh look! Over there….. about 150 yards….the Cornelius Hargraves. That works.

The Cornelius Hargraves was a 211 X 45ft four masted coal schooner running at full sail at night in October of 1890. Although she had the right of way and her crew saw the Viscaya…the Viscaya did not see them and they collided, immediately sinking both vessels in 84 feet of water with a tragic loss of life on the Viscaya but all 10 of the crew of the Hargraves were saved. The captain took a lifeboat and abandoned the vessel, later to be charged with cowardice by a crew member who survived by floating on a door. One other lifeboat was put in the water and the crew on that rescued several victims of the Viscaya from the sea and finally several other members lashed themselves to the masts protruding from the water and were rescued the following morning by a passing ship.

We suited up and dropped in. There weren’t nearly as many jellies here and upon reaching the bottom we discovered much improved visibility and a slightly stronger current was most likely the reason. Mark was running the line this time and I was poking…I mean touring. I have a new pistol grip flashlight since having problems with my primary and my backup flooding. I don’t really like it but it works. As we swam along there was a small ocean pout that seemed to be following me, staying just out of my reach but not put off by the fact that I was trying to poke him. I entertained myself by chasing after him for a few minutes trying to smack him with my flashlight like in a whack-a-mole game. I didn’t get him.

I looked in the hideyholes and while I saw several crabs, I found no lobsters. As I looked about the sides of the wreck, I could see they were covered in soft corals and aneomes and I spied the last of the butterfly fish swimming about. Out in the sand we came across several winter flounder and the regular assortment of sea bass and other fish. I picked up a shell to add to my collection and we enjoyed a leisurely swim about the area. Leisurely…it kind of sums up the day. I like it.
As we headed in we took a slight detour to check out some numbers and we rested and talked diving and photography among other things. Rich took some great videos on the wrecks and he found a…..some kind of little critter that he was hoping to identify. Some rope had been rescued and several lobsters were taking the ride in with us. Not a bad day on the water.

Rescue Me

“I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!”

~ Dr Seuss

I arrived at Dutch Springs at 8AM and unloaded my gear on the peninsula and parked up in the upper lot. On my way back, I stopped at the Wreck Valley campsite and said hello to the guys. Hambleto, Benham, BingBing and Terry were just finishing up their morning coffee.

Eventually, I was called back to the peninsula to join in the discussion already in progress with my dive buddies and we kicked back and talked for about an hour. But soon the promise of diving and good weather and decent visibility got me kitted up and in the water in record time…..I am doing that a lot lately.

I was trying out my new tank and gingerly stepped off the platform to check my weighting. My mask immediately fogged up as I sank. I thought about it for a moment…..but I didn’t think the new tank was the cause of the problem….. So I flooded, cleared and headed out.

About 50 yards out, my mask fogged again, I flooded and cleared and as I looked down through my freshly cleared mask, on the ledge below me I spotted a diver…just laying there, slightly crumpled on the bottom…I didn’t think my new tank caused that either…..so I went down to investigate. I shook him gently but he didn’t move. His regulator was still in his mouth and a slight stream of bubbles emanated from it. I immediately rolled him over, no small task, this was not one of the little skinny newbies here, I held his reg in place and started up with him. My heart was pounding as I tapped air into his BC, I was afraid I was going to send him to the top like a Macys Parade balloon but we arrived topside intact, albeit a little quickly. I immediately completed inflating his BC and checked for breathing but I couldn’t feel anything now so I started breaths as I towed him to the dock.

Apparently there is no rest for the weary because after I got him to the group on the dock I heard splashing and thrashing and I turned to see this diver in the midst of a full blown panic attack arms flailing unable to catch his breath. Could this be the missing dive buddy? I immediately set out shouting “Inflate your BC….Stop struggling…Inflate your BC” but he wasn’t listening. As I got closer I dropped down, came up behind him and clamped onto his tank and inflated his BC and towed him to the dock also.

The group was impressed but Ernie wanted to see what I would have done if I couldn’t sneak up behind Mr. Panicky like I did. So, I showed him and we moved on.

Jeesh, I just got in the water…what else could go wrong. I dropped down, my mask fogged on cue, I did the flood and clear thing, again, and headed out once more and this time I got about 100 yards and started looking for mydive buddy Josh. We were in about 50 feet of water but it was so silted up it was hard to see. It had to be from the numerous classes going on. There are a lot of bottom crawlers out there. Finally out of the clouds of silt appears Josh and he is frantically signaling me with what looks like the out of air sign. I couldn’t believe it, we were only in the water a short time, what happened to his air? I immediately held out my octo and grabbed his webbing. He gave me the OK sign, I thumbed up, he nodded and up we went. What a day!

I again headed out and soon found myself lost in a cloud of silt once more. This was not going to work, I couldn’t see a thing, I couldn’t even tell if my mask was fogged up. I made a few turns and headed back when suddenly there, again on the bottom, was a dark mound looking suspiciously like a diver. This was ridiculous, would it never end? OH NO!!! It was Josh…. I shook him, he moved slightly but was otherwise unresponsive. I immediately grabbed hold of him and holding his regulator in place headed up with him. Much faster than I had planned but we were up. I floated him and started breathing as I towed him to shore. About half way in, he sat up! I couldn’t believe it! “Let me take you in” I admonished him, but he refused and grabbed his inflator and descended. I immediately followed after him in case there was another problem. If there was going to be one, it seemed today was the day. And sure enough, my mask fogged. This was getting old. We were about half way to the platform total chaos broke loose. My regulator failed and as I reached out to Josh, so did his! And then his safe air went berserk and all that was left was my little yellow Sherwood octopus. I immediately offered it to Josh signing him “2 breaths”, but I still didn’t let go juuust in case. He did give it back, and I again grabbed his webbing and we headed up, passing that little baby back and forth between us. Talk about task loading…..

I needed coffee….this was just too much….was there no one there but me? WTF

Josh and I peeled off our gear and headed up to the snack bar for some refreshment and snacks. We then sat under the trees and again the conversation turned to diving. We discussed some local accidents that had happened this past dive season, an assortment of mistakes and strange occurrences had wrecked havoc on the dive community this year. Some had good outcomes, some not so good. Heck, one of them was mine on the Northeast Sailer. Things do happen.

And one of the things that needed to happen was a dive. The plan was to go out to the platform, over to the school bus, out to the plane, over to the Comet and up to the platform and out on the other side of the peninsula. OK let’s get going.

I had switched masks and as we descended….clearness…no fog…..a beautiful thing…… and no bodies strewn about…..sweet.

We passed the platforms and made it all the way out to the school bus. After a quick trip through the bus Josh started out for the plane but I was signaling him to slow down. My little fins were having problems keeping up with the Mario Andretti of divers here. I caught up and we were finning along when I caught a strange movement out of the corner of my eye. I blinked quickly because I couldn’t believe it, it looked exactly like a diver having a grande mal seizure!!! Would this day never end!! I immediately went over and grabbed hold, working diligently to keep us level in the water column, while holding the regulator in place and riding out this bucking bronco of a seizure. When it finally ended I headed on up to deal with this topside. When we breached the water and were inflated I started swimming for shore, seizure boy in tow. The spotters in the tower spotted us and immediately went into action, like ants they were running to their stations, shouting orders. I was tired and lost deep in concentration, towing my little heart out. Ernie, on the other hand was wildly signaling the spotters he was OK and yelling back at them…..what team work!! He told me I looked just like a professional…everyone thought so….so determined…so convincingly serious. I was a little proud…and a little embarrassed, I am after all quite humble….

I swam back out to the group and continued on to the boat called the Comet. Upon reaching the Comet, my dive buddy, Dale Earnhardt Jr. AKA Josh and I had to hover for a few minutes to let the rest of the group catch up. While we did, I was momentarily distracted by a large fish, hanging enticingly close and blowing me fish kisses. He begged to be poked. Josh moves much too quickly, it must make him suck down his air really fast, cause right there on the Comet it happened again. At first I thought it was a petit mal seizure, but quickly realized, he was out of air, AGAIN. He grabbed the regulator from my mouth and began to drain my tank. I quickly recovered with my trusty octo. This time we got him back on his own air supply and without further delay, headed for the platforms and dry land.

Without further interruption we hit the far dock and as everyone arrived we counted heads. As we were standing there, we realized, Ernie was alone! No buddy! Sh** Like a well oiled team, we sprung into action. Josh started searching the surface for bubbles, while another member headed up to contact EMS and another headed for higher ground hoping to get a better view. Despite Joshes attempt to suck my tank dry I still had the most gas left and Josh and I were about to head out to the Comet…I didn’t remember seeing Ernie with a dive buddy after the Comet and that particular attraction had some overhead and tight penetrations. A good place to start. We had a plan and it was in motion. A quick interview of Ernie revealed one small fact….Ernie did not loose his dive buddy on the Comet….hmmmm

What now? I didn’t remember seeing Ernie leave the school bus with a dive buddy either…ohhh nooo!!!! It has been a long time since then….this was not a rescue…..this was going to be a body recovery……

I immediately tied off a spool underneath the dock and began to make sweeps over the soft silty bottom. This was a challenge as the slightest touch of the line or myself absolutely destroyed visibility. I was working diligently keeping the cloud of bottom matter to a minimum when some inconsiderate clown churned up the entire area! (I think it was Ernie but I don’t want to say anything, cause if its true...that would have just been mean of him) I was now working blind, sweeping side to side and feeling my way along.

Suddenly, Josh tapped me on the shoulder, he had hit pay dirt and found what we were looking for, we could go home! Thank goodness.

As we packed up our gear we were again lost in diving conversation. Nothing unusual for a group of divers at Dutch. And eventually the conversation turned to good natured kidding. Nothing unusual for a group of divers anywhere. It was brought to my attention that some of you out there think I make up things in my dive reports. Let me set the record straight. I do not. Everything is true. Every last bit of it, It is reported as seen through my eyes, but its all true.

Even the events of today….. my Rescue Certification check out dives…………And yes, I was so professional and convincing in my rescues that I did have the staff at Dutch believing there was a real life problem there for a while.

I am almost a Rescue Diver…imagine that.