There are fish in the sea better than have ever been caught ~ Old Irish saying
As I stood in line to pay for my coffee, I made small talk with the man in front of me.... "Glad it warmed up this morning" and he heartily agreed 35F was much warmer than 16F ..... now that is insane ......
The sun never really came out, it was gray and cold as the last of my gear was loaded on the Lady Godiver. The heater was blasting and we were 5 hearty souls making our way out of Shark River to the Atlantic. There was a bit of a chop in the water and we bounced our way along.
The main bottom finder was not working so with just the smaller one to find our target we opted for the Mohawk for our first dive. This site is so big that although I have been on it more than once, I still haven’t seen it all.
Just as we approached the wreck the errant bottom finder kicked into gear, but we were content with our choice of dives and proceeded to tie in...twice...but with a snug hook we readied to drop in. As usual, I was geared up and ready to go in no time and we rolled over the side into the cool green water.
Freakin ice cream headache cold is more like it!!! Yowser!!! It took a minute but as we descended through the layers of water laden with little stringy thingies it got better and then even the water cleared..... a lot. We arrived on the bottom with 44F water temps and 20-30 foot of visibility. Our only problem was which direction to head out into first.
We were tied in near the boilers and as we headed out I began to spy pieces of truck. Tires mainly, and axels and other discernable pieces. I had not been on this section before and began to look around.
There were not many fish about and the ones that were swimming past us were mostly small with the exception of the ling cod which were huge. This was not going to be a poking kind of day and so I began to peek in and about the tangled wreckage to see what was to be found. And mostly it was pieces of truck. Tires which were slowly melting away in the harsh ocean water made graceful arches along the route. You could easily make out the tread as you passed over top and they were surprisingly soft when you brushed against them. Twisted metal and lopsided stacks of metal plates filled the area. And we peeked all about as we swam.
We looked around for some time before turning to come back and then....there he was...just sitting there....only about a foot long and blending in perfectly with the wreckage, what was it? A lionfish? No, no not that. Ahhh, I know....a monk fish. I circle slightly taking in the sight and I could see him close his eyes and hear his little fish voice saying "Go away! I am invisible". Just as my hand shot out I received the sign. Not the bunt or steal sign, but the distinct and reverberating "Don’t poke that, it bites!!" I considered this for a moment but heeded the warning and would have to move on and settle for grabbing a ling cod by the tail instead.We reached the line and swam out a bit more. The hydros and aneomes covering the wreckage were all opened up and moving slowly due to the cold and I could actually watch them pull slowly into their tubes like little disappearing bouquets. The cold was starting to make itself known and we headed on up the line. That safety stop was pretty cold and I was glad when it was over. We got onboard and headed for the cabin and some warmth.
No fish came up on this site and no legal lobster were sited either, but Harry did pick up a block of square tiles. These were interesting to see since the hexagonal tiles are what are usually found here.
As the last diver emerged from the water and we sat huddled in the cabin our next site was decided upon and. While we were not blessed with a parting of the clouds overhead, the seas laid down almost flat as we set sail for the Riggy Barge, making the ride pleasurable.
For many years the real name of this big wooden wreck was not known, and it was referred to as the "Rig Barge" or "Riggy Barge". It has since been discovered that is the three-masted schooner barge, the Helen.
Wooden walls protrude from the sand and are easily followed. At one end of the wreck is a large post sticking up all by itself, while at the other end is an interesting collection of machinery. The wreck is popular with lobstermen, whose traps are all around. The traps themselves are interesting since they often contain many other creatures besides lobsters.
We geared up and the cooler of hot water was most welcome, making donning the wet hood and gloves actually manageable. And we dropped into the water curious as to what we would find.
Again we descended through the profusion of thin brown strings only to have the water clear as we came upon the wreck. While the visibility was slightly less here, we still had a solid 20 foot of viz and I can only imagine what it would have been had the sun been shining providing additional ambient light.
The low lying ribs of wood extended out into the sand and we followed them on out. There were tons of little cubbies along the wall of wreckage and in each one was a large sea crab dug in for the winter. I tried dislodging one but he held fast. There were many different starfish scattered about, some spindly, some thick, and lots of fairly large moon snails making their way along the bottom. And there were not as many fish on this wreck as the other. We swam out past the end of the wall and turned to come back.
At the line we swam out in the other direction to see what it had to offer. On this end of the wreck were a line of lobster traps. As we swam past one I looked inside and did a double take. There were a few fish and decent sized lobster moving about but there were a pair of claws laying on the bottom that did not belong to any 3lb lobster….this was MUCH bigger and as I looked closer I saw this one covered the bottom of the trap and the rest of the inhabitants were just climbing over the top of him. Some Lobsterman is going to be very happy when he pulls this trap up.
Mark found some sort of a tool, encrusted with sea life and debated his souvenir, carrying it with him for a bit before deciding to place it back on the wreck. He is currently in the midst of restoring his last find so I guess one artifact at a time is all that fits in his toilet tank. Oh well.
We looked about a bit more and then headed for the line starting to feel the cold of the icy water. As we approached the anchor line I saw a pair of claws sticking out from a cubby and reached in and grabbed. Out I pulled a nice sized lobster, but upon turning it over, I was met with the site of eggs and back my little missy was going. Except that she was really pissed and grabbed hold of the seal on my dry suit. I tried coaxing a bit but she wasn’t letting go and I turned to Mark for a little assistance since I was not looking forward to the resulting flood from ripping the seal in this cold water. A little wrestling match of holding down the errant claw and keeping the lobster aligned while Mark loosened her grip ensued and back she went and we headed on up the line.
Harry was on deck as we arrived and he told the story of a really irate female lobster he left behind. He had a picture of her on his camera…..it was my little missy…..same lobster, same cubby…..we told him of our encounter with her also. No wonder she was so worked up when I grabbed her.
A few minutes later Jim came up and he was not happy. He pulled off his glove and there was the bruise from a female lobster with eggs. A cantankerous little wench that got him as he was putting her back! Our little missy got another one…..guess by now getting grabbed by divers was getting really old. We all had a good laugh and waited for Howard to see if he had a run in with the little girl too.
Howard arrived topside and couldn’t imagine how he had missed her. “Several lobsters were taken” is the word for the trip. Many shorts and eggers were left behind. We headed on in looking at Harrys pictures and telling diving tales as only divers can do.