Vandenberg Day 2

I love all men who dive. Any fish can swim near the surface, but it takes a great whale to go down stairs five miles or more; & if he don’t attain the bottom, why, all the lead in Galena can’t fashion the plummet that will ~ Herman Melville

The conditions were stellar, the dives unbelievable and the company grand. A repeat performance was in order and plans were made.

We are once again diving with the Captains Corner Dive Center and the dive boat Sea Eagle, a 60 foot aluminum vessel that you may recognize from the James Bond Movie License to Kill. We left our gear below the day before and our tanks were filled and waiting for us onboard when we arrived. With my computer on my arm and cup of coffee in one hand and dive light in the other Randy still had to trail behind me picking things up. Big thank you by the way.

A short 35 minutes later and we are on the Stern mooring ball. The skies are a little grayer this morning. Some threatening black mixed in but the air is warm and the water once again glass flat, unbelievably clear and an amazing shade of blue. Are we excited? We are suited up and making a mad dash for the starboard side even before the Captain declares the pool open. We have barely given the crew the OK when we are deflating and making a midwater beeline for the ship.

You can immediately make out the outline of the deck as you descend and as you approach, it just keeps getting bigger and bigger and you begin to appreciate just how massive this ship is. We arrive on deck where another smaller American flag waves in the current and can see the swim back to the mooring line will take a little effort. There seems to be much more life on this end, still small, but with many more blue tetras and yellow butterfly fish. Small herds of white baitfish that remind me of NJ cunner swim by and a few more barracuda eye our every move. Large parrotfish appear everywhere snacking on the newly forming blanket of algae and damselfish, angelfish, arrow crabs, and the occasional sea urchin and varying shades of shrimp fill out the local inhabitants.

Over the course of our dives we drop down on the starboard side of the ship to see what is there and enter through a hole cut in the hull swimming through and down a floor past machinery I do not recognize and never will. Sorry guys. We do notice the tiniest of fish in here flitting about. It appears the interior is already being used as a hatchery for local fish and the interior bits and pieces making for safe hiding places until they grow a bit more. The Vandenberg has already begun fulfilling her next assignment moving through the years from troop carrier to reef.
We swim round the stern investigating the huge rudder planted firmly in the sand. The propeller has been removed and I imagine it would have made quite a site if it was still attached.

Finding another cut out we enter and small lockers or cabinets line the walls. We move down a hallway and there are small rooms and doorways to each side and as we get farther into the ship we recognize the crews quarters. Bunks line the walls and desks and cabinets do also. Small showers and heads with the porcelain still in them appear in the beam of our lights. Not much room for our sailors to live and work their weeks or months at sea. Not much room for divers with doubles either and the silt is already settled along the floors and walls in a thin carpet, foretelling things to come. Many of the areas are narrow and turning around is not an option. Backing out the only way to go.

There is a huge elevator shaft mid-deck and as you drop down you can enter and explore floor by floor, getting off at the openings lining the walls. There is way too much here to see.

Fish are already gathering on each radar dish grazing the cutouts and using the bowl shape to stay out of the currents. The walkways and railings harboring life as they swim about looking for a space to claim as their own.

For a little while we drop down holes, cutouts and doorways traveling just a short distance to see what is there and popping back up to move on to the next as we make our way along the deck. Small hallways and ladders…. Closet sized rooms and niches abound……. If I ever served on this vessel I would have had to run a wreck reel to the coffee pot… used a GPS to find the ladies head…. A bread crumb trail to the upper deck and sunshine. When I was younger I worked for a shipping line in the port office and when the ships came in I would take clients on tours, showing them the engine room and holds and living areas before arriving at the Captains Quarters for a drink and then done. But this has so much more, more spaces, more rooms. It held so many more people and did so many more things.

We move up and down stairways and follow ladders up and down the walls as we move from room to room. With the exception of the small hatchery we found aft, there is no one here but us and it is kind of eerie as we pass generators, valves, sinks, cabinets, tables, ladders, stairs and doorways all recognizable, all painted and intact…. just a little dust on top….. brush it a side and you could use it…. You could walk here…..you know someone did once.

It will be interesting to see the difference a year makes. Next fall I will be back…to see how things have changed. Where the corals and anomies have taken hold. What fish have bought a “condo” and call which places home. Where the big guns hang out and who deems this spot “cool enough” to relocate to. I hear a large eel has laid claim to the anchor chain although I couldn’t find him. He must have been out. The barracuda are already lurking seeing if any of these “diver people” spears them dinner. It is unfortunate that some divers have chosen to make graffiti walls by writing in the new layer of algae covering the walls, but by next year it will be just a memory as the growth thickens and fills it in.

The dark clouds have blown past and the sun has come out. We make our way back in past the cruise ships and marinas and a cold drink and snack await right at the dock.

Convenient….sweet….. just the way to end the day….. maybe a little Duval Street later on but for now …. Cheese Burger in Paradise…… just not the Portobello mushroom and swiss …. trust me.

(Randy took the pics!)

The Vandenberg

Curiosity is only in vanity. Most frequently we wish not to know, but to talk. We would not take a sea voyage for the sole pleasure of seeing without hope of ever telling. ~ Blaise Pascal

Built in 1943, the Vandenberg was first commissioned as the troop transport USNS Gen. Harry Taylor serving in WWII and at the end of the war it brought troops home and carried refugees for relocation. In 1958 it was decommissioned.

In 1963 the Air force refitted it as a missile tracking ship and re-commissioned it the USAFS Gen Hoyt S Vandenberg monitoring US and Russian missile launches and the US space program. The telescope mounted on the wheelhouse was used for this.

It was retired again in 1983 and in 1996 it was used as part of the movie thriller Virus starring Jamie Lee Curtis and Donald Sutherland before finally laying to rest on May 27, 2009, off the coast of Key West, Florida. The Gen. Hoyt S. Vandenberg became one of the 3 largest vessels in the world sunk as an artificial reef when it hit the bottom at 140fsw.

The Vandenberg measures 10 stories high 523 feet long and is over 71 feet wide. Some parts were rearranged and welded elsewhere to keep the top of the structure interesting and at least 50 feet below the surface.

From the bow there is the foremast and moving back the wheelhouse with a telescope mounted atop and seats for gun turrets as well as 2 large radar dishes, as well as the wheel house, crow’s nest, and a balloon hanger called the underwater Margaritaville because of the support of Parrot head Jimmy Buffet fans provided for the project.

Openings for penetration dot the deck and sides of the ship.

I got a message that a friend and his client would be diving the Vandenberg sometime this week and I was invited to join them. Here I am in Florida and still diving with the Wreck Valley tri-state crew….. go figure. I love it.

Bill made arrangements for us to stay at the Navy Lodge in Key West on base and found us a charter on the Sea Eagle. All I had to do was drive there. Pumping gas is still not this Jersey girl’s forte and they hide gas stations in store parking lots and you have to run a wreck reel to find your way out. Let’s just say I got there… a little late but got there.

9AM is a civilized time to set sail and we were loaded onboard doubles, deco bottles and assorted diving play toys and ready to roll in no time. The crew helpful and has a great sense of humor making for a tremendous day. The Blue skies, 85F water and 70-100 ft viz helped to, I will admit.

A 30 minute trip out and we were gearing up and giant striding off the side of the boat like rats abandoning ship. To the beat of a Jimmy buffet song I waddled over to the side and plummeted into the water impressing all who looked on. What can I say…. I have a gift.There was a slight surface current, swimmable but a workout. I dropped down about 20 feet pulled along the hang line a few feet to the mooring line and at about 40fsw, with the bow of the wreck in sight I let go and floated down on her with little to no current for the remainder of the dive.

The water was a crayola color blue with just a hint of green and I arrived on deck at 85 fsw with Bill nowhere in sight…… And they say I get excited and have no patience…..

This ship is still newly sunk and there is very little growth on her. I sparse carpet of white covers the deck but I am sure the other sponges and corals of more color are not far behind.

Tucked under and about all the ships hardware are long legged shrimp of varying size and color and small bait fish swim about. Tiny schools of butterfly fish swim circles about the mooring line and blue and yellow fish of solid and all manner of stripe configuration flit about.

We head back along the deck and I peek over the side again and again seeing only sand and the anchor chain on each side of the ship. Doorways and cut outs beckon me and I peek my head in and maybe just a little trip to see where these stair lead or what is about. I know we are touring the deck this time but there is way too much to see. On deck sits the sockets for gun turrets and two large radar dishes, one of movie fame. It wasn’t blown up and is perfectly intact and welded to the deck. We move along and I am eerily aware of how few fish I see. I know next year this will be a totally different dive and I take in all the outside structure for future reference.

This is our recon dive and we haven’t come across Bill yet so we turn and head back to the bow swimming along the walkways and following the routes walked by our servicemen so many years ago. A lone barracuda about 3 foot long hangs in the water just off the side of the ship stalking our movements and appearing each time we emerge from a swim through.

At the bow we meet up with Bill and begin our trip to the surface. Well…. Maybe a quick trip down the hull to the hawse pipe and to see the chain….. But then up the line. The bottom of the boat and the hang line in sight the entire time as we look up and the outline of the Vandenberg below as we look down. Large jelly fish float along in the water column framed in the blue water, their pink red veins well defined in the clear water.

It will take me forever to get used to removing my fins before I climb a dive ladder….. just doesn’t happen in Jersey…. You hit the ladder and you keep moving. Things are leisurely here….. the crew greets you, takes your fins, little pull on the manifold, dive platform… must all go with the civilized sailing hour….. I can do this…..

After an SI filled with snacks and stories of diving around the country and the world we are once again lined up like 4th graders in the cafeteria waiting our turn to step off the boat. They claim they seldom get days like this, so clear, so little current. We are lucky…. Me …… I don’t know any better this is my first time and this is what I will always expect.

We pull down a few feet and then let go of the line, like parachutists choosing our landing area as we survey the deck of the ship. The same small bait fish swim about the deck as well as the tiny bit of color from the tiny butterfly fish and friends. There are parrotfish now and some decent sized black angelfish appear here and there. The lone barracuda floats effortlessly trying to keep an eye on all the comings and goings.

We swim aft once more, this time poking in all the holes and doorways, down into the hull before the bridge, choosing which of the large cutouts to explore we find ourselves in among machinery. Machinery is my nemesis, I have no idea what I am looking at, I can just tell you it wasn’t the kitchen and these were not can openers or blenders…. I don’t think.

We now come out a hole cut on the starboard side and work our way back up to find more playrooms. I go in a doorway and down a stairway and back up and stick my head through a porthole shaped opening in the door and Randy is right there camera in hand. Will have to get that picture. We swim all about and finally turn for the line.

We make our way once more along the deck and dropping down occasionally but as we come across the bridge I look up and hanging in front of me, majestically fluttering with the waters currents hangs an American flag. I stand on the bridge, just as the captain and crew one did( well maybe they weren’t wearing fins but they stood there) leaning on the railing and just watching the flag wave. The bow of the ship behind it, framed by the bluest blue of the water and fluttering as if in a slight breeze, still so new to the water you can make out each star and stripe. I just leaned and watched imagining this proud ship sailing above the water.

Time to get going and as I hit the bow I dropped down the starboard side to the hawse pipe with chain running from it to the sand. I moved across the bow sitting so straight in the water and peeked in the port hawse pipe and sank down to the chain where it stretched out beyond my sight into the sand. The waterline markings are still clear on her hull, the chains links all intact. It looks just like it should be afloat. At the tie in sits a lone damselfish. Feisty little suckers and I bat back and forth with him getting in my needed dose of fish poking. We move up the line and the last of the divers are hanging at the 20 foot line until it is just myself and a crewmember. He gives me a questioning look, but my little trip down to the chain cost me a few more minutes than the rest but I am just a minute behind them and I follow him back to the ladder as he collects the line and hanging stage bottles.

Not a bad day… excellent actually…. So good we are staying an extra day and doing it again tomorrow. Thank you Mr. Barrow for inviting me.

(Randy took the pics)

Coral Spawning

I never drink water because of the disgusting things that fish do in it. ~ W C Fields

First of all, let me just say “everyone should eat at the Waffle House once in their lifetime” …….. and that is enough…… apparently waffles are not their forte. We will leave it at that and move onto diving.

I threw my 90 lb dog in the car and drove to the Keys. I was staying with a friend …. So imagine me… my dog….Becky, her 2 lb dust mop dog …I mean Maltese…. Her 2 boys and 2 of their best friends all at her house… it was rockin….. but these stories are for another time…….

Captain Slates Atlantis Dive Center is at the very north end of Key Largo and has a big white boat called the Coral Princess II, our chariot for this adventure……. And a captain with a penchant for watermelon…. Luckily I brought plenty. The shop sits on the dock behind the boat with covered tables, showers and rinse tubs for the divers use. I would recommend them and their friendly and helpful crew if you get the chance to come down.

Becky and I met up with the rest of our group and we were off to Dry Rocks Reef to see the Christ of the Abyss statue and coral spawning.

Hard coral is formed thousands of tiny identical individual polyps. Over time the polyps lay down a skeleton that is the foundation of a coral reef. While some heads of coral grow by asexual reproduction, many others spawn by “Broadcast Spawning.” The coral polyps send their eggs and sperm into the water in massive quantities by a mass simultaneous release. When egg and sperm unite, they form a larval-stage called “planula”. These drift in the current and those that are not eaten or otherwise destroyed look for just the right surface to attach to and grow, thus forming additional coral formations and reefs. These mass spawning releases have been carefully tracked and predictions of the occurrence are based on just the right timing when conditions of water temperatures and phases of the moon coincide. Tonite was the night,

Our first dive was to acclimate ourselves to where the coral heads were and which ones we wanted to watch. In the clear 87F water, our visibility was limited only by the beam of our lights. I was using a 10W canister and not missing a thing.

We descended to the top of the coral reef and made our way down along its walls looking all about. Since this is a marine sanctuary, there is no fishing or taking of marine life and since this is Florida, many divers have a look but don’t touch attitude, these fish hid quietly among varied corals and sponges with that “you can’t see me” look in their eye. By the end of the evening….they were duly educated. If you shine your light in front of a Spanish lobster (they are black with teeny tiny white polka dots all over them and no pincer claws) they keep a sharp eye on the light and slowly move backwards to safety….or my hand….. they are really spiny and yes Captain Bill, I screamed like a girl when I grabbed them…. But then again… I am a girl….. so all is good. But alas I also had to then release them and move on.

Tucked in among the various corals and sponges all configuration of parrot fish lay quietly hiding. These fish are bright teals and greens with some sporting reds and yellow accents. Some had huge scales that you could see the texturing and fine shadings of black and brown. They are beautiful fish. Toad fish lay in amongst the coral fragments with varying colors, their texture blending almost perfectly with the rough coral rocks. Large heads of star and brain corals were interspersed and since this was the second release, we noted which of the nodes were filled with their soon to be released gametes and which were now empty from last weeks spawning.

Large brown angel fish swam close to the rocks for protection and blue on blue striped fish swam among them. There were Black angel fish with yellow tails and small red squirrel fish swimming about. In the sandy valleys between the sections of reef swam large trumpet fish, either unafraid or dazed by the brightness of my lights. I could get almost close enough to pet them. Peeking in the nooks and crannies I spied a long red tentacle…. Could this be an octopus? Alas no… but are really cool 4 armed starfish with long wiggly arms over a foot long. There were magenta crayfish looking things hiding in the holes and their eyes sparkled pink when you shone your light on them.

And then suddenly my light shone upon a man in flowing robes, with his arms spread out and raised, palms up, towards the surface and the skies. A surreal sight appearing from the dark and depths. The Christ of the Abyss Statue.

The original "Il Christo Degli Abissi" statue was placed in the Mediterranean Sea off Genoa, Italy, in 1954. In 1961, a second statue "Christ of the Deep" was cast from the same mold and ultimately donated to the Florida State Park Service. At 4000 lbs and 9 ft tall, in 1965, the bronze statue was placed on a concrete base and placed in John Pennecamp Marine Sanctuary at Dry Rocks Reef. An unauthorized plaque was attached in the late 1980’s reading:

"If I take the wings of the morning
And swell in the uttermost
parts of the sea,
Even there your hand will lead me
and your right hand hold me fast.
1927 In memoriam 1988
Michael M. Kevorian"

The statue is magical at night. Invoking each diver as they came upon it to stop for a moment and reflect. As I read the plaque my eyes moved up the robes to the uplifted arms and my light could barely made out the shimmering surface of the water above. I remained still for a few moments and just watched.

After an hour in the water it was time to head up and grab some coffee…. The captain put a fresh pot onboard so I would drink coffee while he ate watermelon…. Hmmmmm. I like it.

11:20 seemed to be the appointed witching hour and we geared back up and dropped one by one into the water. As we made our way along we checked each coral head to see what was transpiring. On the large star coral heads the polyps were slowly opening and tiny tiny elongated white gametes were wiggling their way out and into the water. As you shone your light on your hand it filled with hundreds of these tiny creatures as they caught in the current of the water and started their life’s adventures, settling they knew not where.

Dark green coral heads with smaller polyps were beginning to burst open and rounded white balls began to appear. Looking kind of like hundreds of whiteheads dotting the coral. These would soon also release into the waters to be carried along.

We all know I couldn’t sit still and watch forever and I soon began to look around again. Several times among the rocks I spied and unusual burst of color in the beam of my light. Octopus! Sweet! They flowed more than moved…… and oozed and ebbed among the corals hiding just out of reach. Most preferred a bluish teal hue, changing color occasionally with the new surrounding corals but soon returning to their preferred color of the evening.

But there was one…there always is in the group. I call him Skeeter. He was a little bit country…. And a little bit rock and roll. His body slightly bigger than my fist, his tentacles just slightly longer than my forearm, he was much braver and more curious than his friends. He was sitting quietly in a small well in the coral, the tell all teal color, leaning at times slightly to the greenish tint. I placed my hand at the edge of the makeshift cave and waited…. He advanced slightly giving me the octo eye and waiting. So I wiggle my fingers and he moved a bit more. Then he was out! Just oozing about and giving me the once over, his tentacles tickling my fingers and moving up my hand.

And then it happened. A small crab mesmerized by the light swam into my beam not watching what else was going on and Skeeter was on him in a heartbeat. This little crab was swimming for his life trying to use me to hide as if I was a part of the safety of the reef. Skeeter was mid water and drooling over the thought of crab Rangoon just ahead and the two of them swam and bounced off of me in a whirlwind of drama worthy of Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. As they began to approach my mask, I kept swatting the little crab back out into the open but he was quick and he was determined. One final swat and he was off and Skeeter, unhappy at losing his snack, dropped back down to the reef and settled in among the various colored corals and sponges to wait for more.

I moved on to see what else was waiting in the dark recesses for me to light up. Sitting in between tow waving blue gray corals sat a hogfish. A large hogfish which could have made dinner for a small family had this not been a no kill zone. And this guy was holding his ground. Took a poke to send him on his way and that was only but a few feet. These things are funny looking with their wavy little finger thingies on their backs and googly eyes staring out at you. I like em.

More colorful fish and lobsters about and in one hole the largest stone crab I have ever seen. Tucked in the mouth of this small cave in the reef face, he looked like something out of Jurassic Park. A small black and white striped angel fish with long flowing fins top and bottom at least 3 times his length flitted in and out. Tube worms looking like brown makeup brushes with white handles were tucked among the corals. As they pushed out of their white tubes the flowing heads rippled in the current. a herd of red squid aobut 8 inches long swam back and forth between the divers making a race track kind of circuit amongst us. And finally, just below the boat, there sat a large coral head and it began to puff thousands of tiny future corals into the water. They flowed off of this coral like puffs of smoke in the water. Thousands of tiny gametes sweeping past the glow of each divers light. Absolutely amazing. How they predict these releases. How each coral gets the memo and they release simultaneously across the ocean floor. There were two releases this year because there were two full moons close together and all the corals knew…. They all knew and they all waited. Humans cant coordinate 6 people on a dive boat with lunch but millions of coral polyps ranging in size from tiny pinheads to small nail heads can orchestrate mass sex and birthing across the ocean floor. Amazing. Absolutely amazing.

Not sure what is next….but we will see.

Venice Beach 2009

To me there is something completely and satisfyingly restful in that stretch of sea and sand, sea and sand and sky- Complete peace and complete fulfillment. ~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh


It is Labor Day Weekend and I have just arrived….. too late to book a charter ……they are all full but the stretch of beaches call to me. I miss my beach diving, I have not gotten into the inlets this year like I am so used to. I missed the changing of seasons... It’s time to get back into the rhythm of diving for the sake of diving. A beach, a wreck, a cave, a spring….. Florida should have so much to offer if I just jump in.

Only so much gear fit in my car for the trek down. Kayak, dog and clothes needed room too and so I have but the bare minimum with me at the moment. I have only one single tank with me and have used down a good portion wire brushing the stains on the pool bottom and need to rent. Cleaning is quite the chore here. So I toss a rash guard and regs, fins and a dive flag in the truck. Hmmmmm. Doesn’t seem quite enough somehow….. add my BPW….. still so bare…… a towel…… a 3ml just in case….. that’s it there is nothing else….. so minimal….. I think I like it.

I am headed for Venice Beach, just a short ride from my temporary digs. The trip should be short and uneventful but as usual it is not. I need gas….still a blot on my independent nature. Last time I tried a man from the next pump had to come over and show me how to get it started and as I pulled out another man pulled me over and suggested I screw the gas cap back in and close the little door. This time faring only slightly better I pulled out into traffic only to see flashing lights behind me. Pulling over I am gifted with a $276 speeding ticket. I question this whole process but continue on my way.

I stop at the shop at the bridge and rent a tank for the day and continue on to the beach and the group I am meeting. Once there, I am late and see only dive flags in the water and they all look alike and I have no way to know which is them. A group leaving the water informs me there are jellies in the water today so I throw on my 3ml and head for the surf.

I haven’t done this dive in 2 years but remember….swim out a couple hundred yards, drop down, look for black sand. The water is flat, lake flat. And warm, 88F warm. I walk out a bit, put on my fins and drop down to swim out. Visibility is around 7ft but this is usual for this area due to warm water algae blooms. I navigate using the ridges in the sand to keep me on course. Yes, l know how to do this! It doesn’t require a compass silly!

As I swim along I hit….. cement blocks? Covered in flowing brown algae. With fish. I don’t remember this, I like it but I don’t remember it. I head to the surface to see where I am. Right where I want to be and there are dive flags all around me. Very strange……. But not one to pass up a chance to poke I drop back down.

The blocks are around 3 feet square and dropped in a similar fashion to the jacks in Manasquan inlet. About 20-25 feet across in a long meandering line. In among the blocks I begin to peek about and several curious spade fish come out to see who is there. They are no longer curious and no longer about. There are white fish, almost clear in color and small bait fish with horizontal stripes. They are really quick. And grouper…. about 18 inches long. Picking up some shells I find hermit crabs of various sizes and tube worms in the sand. I come across some sand dollars and pick a few to take home. The occasional sheep head goes past and various corals and sponges dot the landscape and this is all very interesting….but where are the sharks teeth? The black sand denoting the underwater river bed? Where are my friends? I decide to head in and await their return and some answers and so I surface and begin to swim on in. As I approach the beach, I see the Bulla children frolicking in the water and as I turn I see a group swimming inand waving….. I have found them.

After a short SI we head out again. Apparently the state has been busy putting in an artificial reef…. Right on top of the riverbed! Unless we swim out much further to the next bed, the tooth hunting is slim.

Colin, Kris, Jenny and I swim back out and just beyond the blocks drop down to see if we can get luck at the edges of the bed. I am again greeted with the occasional fish in the open sand and jelly fish with long waving tentacles swim past. I am lucky to only watch them but Kris is not watching and gets stung. You can hear her yell even under water….Ouch!

I don’t find any teeth…. I find a petrified manatee rib, a prehistoric chicken bone, a fossil of a clam shell (really cool), and a rock in the shape of a tooth…. I am losing interest fast and off I go in search of things to poke.

There are tube worms to torture and small fish and a flounder hiding in the sand…..not anymore. A lone pink coral lies on its side and I pick it up and replant it in the sand. Small curious fish follow after me staying just out of reach, they are quick learners.

As I watch, a small sponge slowly moves across the sand. A bit fast to be moving in the current and I look closer. Do sponges have skinny little legs? I don’t think so…. I pick it up and it is a 2 fer. A large hermit crab in a shell covered in sponge. Sweet!

I have been cruising about sightseeing for over an hour and it is time to head back in and I move along picking up interesting shells for my bucket. Coming over the blocks there are more grouper and fish and I later learn I missed the 3foot ray swimming about.

We soon surface and swim back in talking about all we saw and what we found. Colin picked up the top part of a meg tooth, the bottom part nowhere to be found. Jenny found a few small teeth as did Kris along with a beer can and abandoned inflator hose. Her sting has subsided and the day is full of sun and warmth as we talk about the new reef and the fish. Past finds and friends old and new. Divers are divers, Florida or NJ. A day in the water is always better than a day on land. I will keep at it. Who knows?

G. A. Venturo Tug

Don't be dismayed at goodbyes, a farewell is necessary before you can meet again and meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends. ~ Richard Bach

Someone once said to me “it’s always something with you”…….. that’s true…and it’s not a bad thing……

As usual, it was not just another day and not just another dive. It was late afternoon and I had had it with packing and the heat and humidity. A quick call to the Old Salty and I was going night diving….. Jersey night diving ….. woot woot!!

Nothing is easy for me and I am getting used to that. The site was to be the Venturo tug. Try googling that, it is of course not the actual name or all there is to it.….

The Sea Girt Reef is one of the oldest artificial reef sites in New Jersey. Reef-building activities at this site date back to 1937. On Thursday, October 17, 1996 as part of the Sea Girt artificial reef an old Navy tugboat was sunk in 80 feet of seawater and on Aug 16th of that year several APV’s (armored personnel vehicles) found a final resting place nearby. The site is called the “FCO Reef” (Fisherman’s Conservation Organization) The Tug boat was later renamed the G. A. Venturo in memory of Captain Greg Venturo, an avid fisherman, author, diver and founding member of the FCO who lost his life while diving.

I arrive at the Old Salty and am the first one there. I am soon joined by Benny who will be mating but not diving this evening. He promises me a cart to get my gear down the dock but I get tired of waiting….. or maybe too excited….. and lug my gear down myself.

In the parking lot I am met by Patty Miller and my excitement is increased with the thought of brownies and cookies. My last Jersey dive for a while is to be a home run and the surprises are not done coming yet.

As everyone loads onboard there is much hustle and bustle with the Captain and crew. Apparently the bridge is broken and a crane has been brought in to lift it so timing is everything and we have to wait a bit till this is done. Taking full advantage of this little lull in the action, Benny and I make a snack, drink and ice run. Kudos to the Marina Deli for re-opening and helping us out.

We arrive back at the boat and load onboard and I am met with another pleasant surprise. The rest of the divers have arrived and among them is an old friend and diver, Rafael. Rafael and I took our open water together at UDI and headed out the very next day for our first official dives at Dutch Springs, meeting up with the Wreck Valley crew. Talk about always something….. make your introduction to diving with Spratman, Johnny Rocket, and that crew…. It endeared them and diving to my heart…but back to the dive.

The bridge is opening and with Captain Nick at the wheel we make our break for the ocean. The evening is clear and warm with the sun just starting to set and the seas lay calm as we head out. The boat ride alone is worth the trip and I enjoy the time as everyone readies for the dive.

It is dark as we arrive on site and Dave jumps in to set the hook. I am to dive with him this evening and jump into my dry suit with just shorts, socks and an under armor shirt. I slip into my harness and as I am about to step off the boat Dave appears with a report. 10-15 foot of Jersey green viz and an entertaining show of jellies and bioluminescence on the way down to 54F bottom temps. Yes!! Move! Hurry up! I’m coming in!

We move on down the line and the light show begins with little tiny sparkling specs lighting up like twinkling stars and as I play my light around small jellies undulate and glide through the water with their transparent bodies soaking up the light in a milky white haze.

We arrive on the tug and Dave ties in and we are off into the sand to look for the APVs. We run out the reel as we fin along and mountainous piles of starfish dot the sand. In between these run beds of sand dollars with their thick brown coats and bright white ones lay among them waiting to be plucked and placed in your pocket. A skate is ousted from his bed and some small fish hang sleeping just above the sand. Some got to sleep….others were not so lucky.

There were scattered moon snail egg casings lying about and I picked up several shells looking for an adult but found only hermit crabs. I settled on a large one and carried him along pointing out all the sites and shining my light in his eyes when he didn’t pay attention. Alas we didn’t pay attention either and at the end of the reel had not come across the tanks. Making a quick sweep to see if we could snag them, we still came up empty and headed back in. Coming across yet another skate sleeping in the sand I placed the hermit crab atop of him and waited for the show. It was quick and foreseeable. The skate took off like a shot and the hermit crab tried to hold on but was quickly tossed like a rider from a bucking bull.

Arriving back at the tug we make a circle around it in the sand looking about. The sides are covered in a canvas of sponges, corals and anemones that played colors as the lights swept over them. The smooth sand bottom held a few small fish long ago given up on the hopes of a peaceful night’s sleep and more starfish and sand dollars.

We moved up the sides to the rail and again circled. Some larger taug were up here and as you poked inside the tug a few were nestled in along the walls. There were some small striped fish that looked like spade fish here, but they had an odd bump on their heads. I am sure they were spade fish none the less, maybe just smacking into things in the dark of the reef. Along the rails were teeny tiny mussel shells interspersed amongst the flora and fauna. And lining the deck were fuzzy white anomies waving in the gentle movement of the water.

A lone large eel had had enough of the ruffians intruding upon his nightly beauty rest and slowly made his way along the deck below me. I hovered and watched his graceful movement and he, soon slipped over and down the side of the tug and squeezing into a small hole below decks to resume his nights rest.

One more quick run down to the sand and I find a final shell for my bucket and we are on our way back up the line to the surface and warm night air. I again watch the light show as I hang and feel a sad tug inside that it will be a while before I get to do this again. Maybe.

As I climb the ladder Benny is waiting to greet me and pull my first fin through and bring me onboard. We talk diving and sights as we shed our gear and as I look over the side into the dark water I see shapes swimming about in the glow of the boats lights. Squid, about 18 inches long are swimming all about the boat playing in the soft light. I envy the last of the divers as they must be seeing them on their hang.

Captain Nick grabs a pole and tempts them as they swim about. But he gets no takers, just a show of these little buggers playing about in the light.

As we head back in the buffet begins…. Sandwiches and sweet juicy watermelon. And brownies….ones Patty made JUST FOR ME…. it’s in my dive report......It must be true….. so keep away! LOL

I sit on the table on the Lido Deck and watch the black of night meet the water, broken only by the small wake behind the boat as we head in. With the masterful timing born of a true captain we enter the inlet and slowly make our way in with each bridge open and awaiting our return home.

I am sad to be leaving my beloved Jersey diving, but if this was to be my last one for a while it will hold me. It had a bit of everything. Warm air, soft seas, and friends old and new. Fish to poke and play with, a new site to see, stories to tell, cart races on the dock and brownies. Life is good. As I unload my gear, I muse...... you know….. I can do this again next Wednesday night….. I don’t leave until Thursday morning………

And Captain Nick cocked his head and said…..Maybe…We will see…… So boys and girls….. give him a call and let’s do this….one last time ….. again…..

To all my friends……May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be ever at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.

Two Dives on Three Wrecks or Is It Just One???

Time is a companion that goes with us on a journey. It reminds us to cherish each moment, because it will never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we have lived. ~ Captain Jean-Luc Picard

Sitting in 78 feet of sea water less than 200 feet from the Brunette lies a wooden schooner barge thought to be sunk in the late 1800’s known as the Cadet.

As I sit here, for a moment I thought I was with Howard and his band of merry men because it is actually not the Cadet nor was it sunk in the 1800’s. But, instead I was with Captain Bill and Mate Kenny on the Tuna Seazure. And we actually dove the John H. Winstead.

December 5, 1927, the John H. Winstead, a 215 foot wooden schooner barge built in 1922, was being towed along with two other barges when a storm forced a change in plans. The Millville, another barge in the group began to sink. The tug released all the barges and picked up the crew of the Millville and the tug and remaining barges tried to ride out the storm at anchor. The following morning the John H. Winstead sank 4 miles off the coast of Manasquan, NJ.

Over time, despite the documentation available, the Winstead and two other wrecks very close by became known as the Three American Barges...... the Cadet or Cramers Barge (but actually the John H. Winstead), the Brunette or Doorknob Wreck and the Millville or String Wreck. Confusion is my middle name…… and should probably be the fourth and final name of this wreck……….

It was dank and cool this morning, unlike the past few days of bright sun and brutal heat and humidity. Four of us were sneaking out this Thursday morning, maybe it was all six, but either way I won’t tell on any of them…… well maybe one …… Bill B. of Wreck Valley fame was my dive buddy today. It’s been a long time since I last dove with him and I was looking forward to it.

At 6AM I was in Dunkin Doughnuts picking up a hefty supply of Munchkins and heading on to the dock where Bill and Kenny were waiting for me. This is early….. I don’t think I appreciate Howard’s 8AM sailings enough…. Although we won’t speak of last weeks early departure…… ( kidding ya Howard). And lo and behold! What else awaits me you ask? A step! The Seazure has a step ….. out on the deck for all to see …….. and so I load onboard.

The water at the marina is crystal clear but the morning is gray and rain threatens with no hint of sunlight and several sprinkles as we head out. We sight several Coast Guard helicopters flying about and conversation is short, as is the ride with only 4 miles to go and we quickly talk dive talk and I am asked if my infamous drysuit is dry yet….. Unfortunately it is not and drysuits become a favorite topic as the day progresses.

One of my boat mates is trying a new “drysuit” theory out by wearing a light neoprene suit under his drysuit and will get back to me at the end of the day as to his recommendations …… we will not get into the brief you can’t pee in your wet drysuit discussion Kenny started……. He was in rare form as usual.

We tied in quickly and the pool was open. I suited up and launched myself over the starboard side, plummeting gracefully down to the granny line and on to the anchor line. A thermo cline is felt at about 35 fsw and the temps drop to a nippy 55F. Life is good. Arriving on the wreck, the water is green and dark with no sunlight from above but clear with about 30 feet of visibility.

We are tied into the bow and I tie my reel into a piece of timber jutting from the sand and look to see what is about.

The wreckage is covered in hard and soft corals and anemones dot the surfaces. The relief is varied with 3-7 feet being the average all around. This wreck seems to be almost circular with the walls of the barge running all around you. Some relief is in the center and several abandoned lobster pots dot the landscape inside the wreckage and out. Things are varied with timbers pushing up from the sand and sections of intact wall all about. A piece of small machinery is at one end and what appears to be a large metal box near the other.

It strikes me that I see few fish here and no lobster. Starfish are tucked in among the wooden debris and large sea robbins swim about begging to be poked. Since they are not in mating mode I oblige them. A lonely small eel pout is nestled in a hole on one wall and the occasional small fish swims quickly by.

I am fumbling here with light and reel and poking going on all at once. My reel fouls more than once and I stop to untangle it as we move along. Bill, like myself, is a wreck tourist and is peeking in holes and checking out all the bits and pieces and all too soon we find it time to head up.

I have pulled 10 minutes of deco here and find it hard to believe but hanging in the warm water near the surface is relaxing, and while the line pitches in my grip showing the boat at the surface to be rolling about, there is little to no current or surge below the surface and I let the line slide easily back and forth through my hand. Some line starts to play from my reel and unable to set the screw properly I tie it up and clip it off once more.

I reach the ladder, and I do like the Seazures ladder, it has a nice pitch to it making for a comfortable climb up. I hand my light and reel to Kenny and climb onboard. I bring presents for the captain with one particularly pretty one weighing in at 8 oz. with shiny clip and leader still attached catching his favor. Bill is a sucker for bling and he peruses his new gifts as we talk.

My reel problem appears to be a stripped screw which will not hold properly…… second one for this 6 month old Dive Rite reel, I will have to get yet another this week. And everyone holds their breath as they ask…… are you wet? Alas, yes…. down both arms……. This just does not bode well for Pinnacle…… I don’t know what the problem is.

We spend a pleasant surface interval talking warm water diving, Florida and Truk, and local sea life sightings of shark, dolphins and whales as we snack and relax. The only thing more we could want is a little sunlight and no more rain but we will take what we have.

We descend the dark green water once more. Bill will run his reel this time, he is trying out a new sidewinder reel and I can concentrate on finding where all the sea life is hiding. This time as we head for the stern to look about we spy more tataug, several with the designated bump in the forehead. Much more life at this end but still not teeming. A large flounder is rousted from the sand and I chase him up and over a pile of debris. He is faster than he looks and disappears into the green water. The water seems greener this time, not hazier but maybe a bit darker in color. The temperature remains at a comfortable 55F if you are diving dry, a cool 55F if you are wet in your drysuit and we swim about checking out all that is offered.

Bill calls the turn and I have again earned a few minutes of deco and as I swim ahead of him pulling the line from the wreckage and holding it taut as he reels in…… I lose focus…. as usual. At first it is just a little stretch of the arm to nudge a sea robbin all too comfortable in the sand below…… then a small black fish needs to be shoed along… and another summer flounder….or is it the same one…let me look a little closer… and a funny 3 legged starfish and then from the corner of my eye I see poor Bill zig zagging along behind me trying to wind in his line and possibly catch me and smack me one for making him crazy. I give a little giggle and concentrate as hard as I can as we make our way back to the line. I did good except for the shell for my bucket and one last sinker….. Hey! that’s good for me.

We once again hang on the line in the warm water watching the dark outline of the boat pitch above us before climbing onboard and heading home.

I am now wet on both arms and down my left leg, dry clothes are in order. And the last of the munchkins…. A sugar fix is on the list for several of us and other snacks . One of us ate twice his body weight as we sat and watched….. he claimed to be a runner and needed the calories. Luckily I don’t run anywhere and so we balance each other out in the order of the universe……. Life is good.

We make our way through the inlet pointing out shore diving areas and local eateries and places of libation. The sun hasn’t come out yet but you can see the clarity of the water none the less.

With the ease borne of regularity our Captain easily slides into the tight slip and we are home once more, safe and sound.

No fish or lobster were taken, no artifacts found, no drama or disaster…… just a relaxing day of diving. Thank you Bill … for everything… good times, friendship and diving. Diving is good. The neoprene under your drysuit… maybe not so good… but diving is good.

Can't Say

No sooner had I been helped into my bathing suit than I sprang out upon the warm sand and without thought of fear plunged into the cool water. I felt the great billows rack and sink. The buoyant motion of the water filled me with an exquisite, quivering joy. ~ Helen Keller

Things were not looking promising this morning….. I couldn’t decide if it had rained or was going to as I walked the dog. But it didn’t matter..... the prop is fixed and our merry band of divers are out on the oceans terrorizing man and beast once more…….

Arriving at the dock, cup of coffee in each hand, I was greeted by the sight of the Lady Godiver and our regular crew, Howard, Francis, Harley, John and Jack and to add to my enjoyment Dan Leib was joining us today also.

I was quickly loaded onboard and we headed out. The forecasts for the day were varied and numerous. 1-3, 3-5, 5-10, windy, no wind, south, north, east and west. We were going to find out for ourselves. Everyone had a wish list, blackfish were high on many..... just something I had not been on before, and maybe a mussel or two was on mine. Maps, charts, and numbers flew back and forth along with catching Dan up on what was east of the north/south portion of the ridge that wasn’t a barge or whatever…… he is a quick study and was soon right in there with them making my head spin.

Harley and I sat out on the deck relaxing, eating watermelon and catching up on things old and new. Each time we asked where we were going, all 5 of the jokers in the cabin would point and yell out there! We would shrug and go back to our snacks and pleasantries. Where ever it was we ended up, we knew we would not be disappointed. Soon a few names were tossed about, ever been on this one, or this one, here, how about?????? We were still going …..thataway….. and so we leaned back and enjoyed the warm sun and gently rolling seas.

I am not allowed to say where we ended up but I haven’t been to this one….. The race to see the bottom was on as divers scrambled over the sides and down. The water had a dark green haze to it with no sign of letting up as I descended the line. Once at the wreckage I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by 54F, 20-25 foot of visibility and fish……. major fish.

The sides of this barge have fallen away and what is left is a grid of wreckage. I toured about noting large starfish lying strewn about in the sand, and squid egg casings resembling one of those squishy balls with those finger looking things sticking out all around rolled about in the current. Searobbins were everywhere and quite large and they were not fans of a finger to the forehead. Go figure.

I picked up a nicely shaped moon snail shell for my bucket and moved on to the homeboys of the wreck. I am not good with recognizing the finer points of fishies. I don’t pick up on the bump on the head, more white on the body, stripes horizontal or vertical…… whatever, as long as it's not a great white, I am poking it woo hoo!! Just let me say, I saw some big black fish that looked like they ran headfirst into the wreck and have a knot the size of a baseball on their noggin. They would not let me poke it…. I tried.

Before long I was on my way up the line and back onboard. I was soon joined by 6 of my knot headed friends…… and NOW I poked em, the fish….not the guys.

Let me also just say, reseating the valve on my arm has not helped….. I am still wet…on both arms…. Pinnacle ARE YOU LISTENING!!!!

Our next stop, I still can’t tell you where but I was here before…….. Dan explained to me that what I had previously thought to be decking lying in the sand around wrecks was actually the sides fallen in, the decking wood long ago disintegrated. Decking material is nowhere near as hardy as the ship itself. Interesting......

We sit on deck enjoying the day and the company before gearing up to roll over. Soon I am ready and with less than the grace of a ballerina I enjoyed on the Old Salty I plummeted into the sea and down the line. Here the visibility was much greener and hazier even at depth than the last site. 55F and only about 15 foot of viz in 60fsw and a much stronger current seeming to move on every side of the wreckage.

Making my way around, I peered in and about the disjointed array of hidey holes. Here, a few starfish littered the sand and there was a noticeable difference in the fish life with fewer and smaller inhabitants. Maybe I was just spoiled who knows. Mussels clung to the sides and I gathered a bag to bring up. Small fish gathered excitably around me….. maybe they had heard about me from their cousins on the Stolt but I wasn’t sharing this time. Poking, but not sharing.

Things just seemed darker here and several times things darkened above me as either the boat was overhead or a cloud moved by and I soon headed up. Once topside I sat on deck and had some lunch as I awaited the last of the divers to surface. We headed on once more, with blackfish, bags of mussels and a 3lb blue rubber dumbbell in tow. Don’t ask, Dan is a scavenger like the rest of us….. and a wise guy.

Flat seas, warm water, full coolers, good company…. What more can you ask from one day? One more dive …… that's what and this time....I still cant say where or I’d have to kill you but I have never been here and the description is typical for these guys, they are going to make me nuts. Jeesh.

I am one of the last to go over the side as I have sat in the sun drying my shirt as best I can before donning my trilam “wetsuit” once more and Howard has no plans to dive this one and asks me to pull the hook and lay it in the sand on my way up. Not knowing who will be up last we will just tug at the sisal tie to the wreck and haul in as the last diver comes onboard.

Again I head on down through a thick haze of water thinking this time it will never open up. I arrive at the sand inches from Jack struggling to place a more than legal fluke in his bag and immediately reach out and lend a hand. This was apparently an example of tag team fishing as Dan had spotted the fish as he swam by and pointed it out to Jack before continuing on his way. 5 fluke were taken in just this small area around the tie in this afternoon. Talk about being spot on with your tie in ….. Captain Howard is good.

A nice little welcome to the wreck. Visibility is still in the 15 foot range here and I begin to swim about….. Oh my! What is this? Lying in the sand is a blue dumbbell, with some small mussel growth and a good sized starfish covering it. How weird is this? Has someone been putting them in their pockets for dive weights….. how strange. I remove the starfish and place the weight in my pocket to show Dan.

I look about and spy large google eyed fish lying buried in the sand, more of the squid egg casings blowing about like tumbleweed and searobbins lining the sand like teenagers at their first school dance. I come across a pipe half buried in the sand I spy a small claw and really long antennae. I make a half hearted grab at what I am sure is an undersized bug and have him halfway out of the pipe when he stops short. Seems like he made a grab with his back legs for the pool table or something else sturdy in his little house and is holding on for dear life. I haven’t even brought a goody bag down with me and giving consideration to his last minute herculean effort……..I let him go.

Back at the line I pull the hook and unwrap the line tied around the piece of wreckage. I lift the hook over the wreck wall and swim it out into the sand so it will not catch again when we snap the sisal and coil the rope neatly next to it before heading up. On the line I pass Howard on his way down…. apparently the grand haul of fluke has changed his mind about this dive and he is going in. Gives me a chuckle as I hang for a few minutes in the warm shallow water.

I am just about out of my harness when Harley joins us on the boat. He can’t believe the hook let loose after how well he tied it in!!! All the way off in the sand…. He had a heck of a time pulling the boat back to the wreckage to tie it in again…. Whew hard work!! Gotta love it….. more tag team diving….LOL Luckily all but Howard are onboard and he will know to pull the hook once more on the way up.

As I finish stowing my gear I pull the weight from my pocket and hand it to Dan. He can now have a matched set, maybe pump a little iron on the way in. He muses over how these things can be on all the wrecks….. maybe someone is using these weights for their buoy markers and not trying them on well? We are halfway home before he gets a big grin and tells me he felt heavy when he was diving and suddenly realized he had forgotten to take the weight out of his pocket after the previous dive and so he dropped it in the sand and moved on. That starfish must have thought he hit a homerun coming across that little mussel snack on that funny blue thing in the middle of the sand. He was probably in on the step too….wise guy..

We head in, snacking on cherries and chocolate chip cookies as dolphins splash in the water just off the port side of the boat and we stand and watch as they fade in the distance. Blackfish, fluke, lobster and mussles……Three tanks, calm seas, bright sunshine and the stories that get told….. that’s a good day on a dive boat.

And one day …… after a good day on the water …… these stories will be told too. Yea… I will do this again.

The Stolt Dagli

O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel (Who had no doubt some noble creature in her) Dashed all to pieces! O, the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perished! ~ William Shakespeare ~

November 26th…….. 1933 - Robert Goulet was born in Mass.

........................ 1938 – Tina Turner was born in Brownsville, Texas

.........................1964 – Thanksgiving morning…….. The cruise ship Shalom, traveling in a dense fog, broadsided the parcel tanker Stolt Dagli, cutting her in half. The passengers on the Shalom barely noticed the collision but the captain of the Stolt looked on in horror as the aft portion of his tanker sank in seconds in 130 feet of water taking with her 18 men and one woman, most of whom were sleeping in their bunks.

The Stolt Dagli was an 583 foot packet tanker carrying a cargo of vegetable oil, coconut oil, fats, propylene tetramer (solvent), methanol (wood alcohol), and heptane (petroleum derivative) to Newark, NJ. The Shalom was a passenger cruise ship carrying 1050 passengers for a holiday cruise in the Caribbean.

The fog was unbelievably thick and the Shalom was having trouble with static on its radar. Word is they let the bow lookout go below for coffee and he returned to the deck in time to watch the bow of the Shalom cut through the Stolt, about ¾ of the way down her hull, sending the crews quarters and engine room and almost half her crew to the oceans floor.

With mayday coordinates over 15 miles off, it took a tremendous effort for this amazing rescue to take place. Thanks to water tight compartments, the Shalom stayed afloat as did the bow section of the Stolt. Had the impact taken place farther forward where the industrial solvents were stored both ships may have gone up in flames with even more devastation than had already happened.

Mayday positioning given by the Shalom was off by almost 20 miles and in the fog the Coast Guard had a difficult time locating the two ships. While waiting the crew from the Shalom heard cries in the water and launched a motor craft that pulled 5 surviving Stolt crewmembers from the frigid seas.

First to arrive on the scene was the Santa Paula, a Grace Line cruise ship which positioned itself so as to provide a wind break protection for the Stolt's bow section. When the coast guard arrived they proceeded to rescue 11 crew from the Stolt’s bow and pull an additional 14 crew members from the sea using helicopters and horse collar rigging and several Coast Guard cutters. Their rescue efforts were highly praised by the Captian.

13 bodies were recovered from the ocean’s surface and brought to Point Pleasant Hospital to be identified. One additional body, that of the only woman, was located by recreational divers in the submerged hull section and recovered almost 30 days after the sinking.

Both captains claimed the other to be at fault but an investigation never took place as both ships were foreign registered and the collision in international waters.

The bow portion of the Stolt was towed across the Atlantic to the Baltic where it was grafted onto the aft part of another tanker, the C.T. Gogstad, which had lost its bow. The match was so good that it was within 12-in of aft to bow sections in width and not even noticeable. This ship was named the Stolt Lady and continued to move liquid freight from port to port for years to come.

Which Captain made which call to do what…. Why and how does not matter. A loss of life took place and 140 feet of a once proud ship lies on the ocean floor.

And today…..I was diving it.

Why is 6:30am so early…..I don’t know. I was meeting Benny at the dock and diving the Stolt from the Old Salty. I have never had the pleasure of diving off the Old Salty and while I cursed their berth at the veeeeeeeeeery end of the dock, as I lugged my gear, I was pleasantly greeted by the days crew and helped on board. They are a great group. There were 8 divers and the morning was shaping itself into a beautiful day.

I was pleasantly surprised to find Eugene and Patty as 2 of my dive mates and the thought of home baked cookies filled my head. But alas it was not to be but the snack basket was still top notch as usual. I love diving with Patty.

This is my first dive after getting my drysuit back from Pinnacle and I was going to be very disappointed if I was wet. This was also to be my maiden dive on the Stolt, another thing on my diving bucket list I would be able to finally cross off.

Captain Nick arrived and we headed out with blue skies and flat seas, arriving on sight relaxed and happy and divers suited up and began hitting the water with giant strides from the stern of the boat. They said I was like a ballerina stepping off and into the water…… maybe I found my calling ……. Nahhh.

A 140 foot section of the Stolts stern is lying on its port side on the ocean floor. While the oceans waters and currents are having its way with the wreckage and it is slowly deteriorating, it still rises up from the sand to about 65 feet providing a multi level and entertaining dive.

We are tied in to the top of the wreckage and the water is warming nicely. 54F at the top of the superstructure and 50F at the sand. The water is hazy but more blue than green and viz a respectable 20 feet by my calculations. As we move about we follow the hull as it slopes down and it is covered in a blanket of soft white corals, colorful sponges and waving hydroids and aneomes. Large mussels are everywhere tucked in among the flora and fauna and there are starfish of varying sizes scattered about. Swimming above all this are hordes of cunners interspersed with small black fish, the occasional sea bass and a small Pollack or two.

I think I am in love.

There are star fish here bigger than me!!!! True story ……I swear it…… their arms so long they have fingers!!!! And the cunners…. I think they're part piranha… they bit me!

We swam along looking in all the holes and dropping down in one every now and then as fish, not large enough to take home, swarmed all around us. I poked and prodded and pushed and grabbed ….. flicked and smacked ……. bounced off of and ran into all kinds of swimmy friends.

Life is good.

I began to pull mussels off the wreck and these mussels were strong….. no match unfortunately for my compass so I smashed them open with my knife handle and let my new friends snack. I looked like the pied piper as I finned along with fish in tow and nibbling from the open mussels shells… and then… things got ugly.

I think they called aaaalllllll their friends…. Or maybe they have a fishy internet and twittered them….. doesn’t matter how but soon we truly were surrounded. The fish were so thick Benny began grabbing them with his hand and debated sticking them in his pocket but decided against it.

Then it happened. They started biting more than open mussel shells and finally one bit my lip and I was not happy. I dropped the remaining mussels and chased that little bast**d down and smacked him. The resulting cut on my lip not bloody enough to draw sharks but noticeable enough to make me tell the story several times already. Too soon our time was up and we headed to the surface for a rest, drinks and Patty’s snacks.

Let me just say…. …I was not dry…. nor happy….. and leave it at that….

For the second dive I wanted to hit the sand and look around so I teamed up with another diver who had “misplaced” his spear on dive #1 and our mission was to recover it. We headed down the line and over the side of the wreck towards the ocean’s floor . The starfish were enormous here looking like giant stepping stones lying on the sand. The propeller lies buried here and a debris field surrounding the wreck keeps scallopers from dragging the area.

We swam the length of the wreckage looking up and down but did not see the errant piece of gear and headed on up. As we headed up the line we were greeted by the sight of the missing spear, recovered by another diver…. mission complete….. day a success…but not quite over.

Once back on board the crew pulled the anchor as we broke down our gear and just as we finished up we were greeted by Alex delivering lunch. He made the best hot roast beef sandwiches.

Tired from diving and full from lunch, the cabin was crowded with bodies stretched out napping away the trip back. With a bag of mussels bouncing in the prop wash we headed home. The true sign of a successful day on the water.

I have a cut on my lip and little fish teeth imprints in my hand…..but I got in last licks..… I met up with old friends and made some new….. crossed another dive off my list…….My thanks to the Old Salty for a great day on the water.

It Was the Best of Times, It was the Worst of Times…..It Was Just Me.

Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by the attitude you bring to life; not so much by what happens to you as by the way your mind looks at what happens. ~ Kahlil Gibran

I do have my own little way of looking at things….I have to. My dry suit is on vacation in California, taking a week to trek cross country and arrive at the Hotel Pinnacle where it will be pampered and massaged and aqua sealed or whatever it is they do.

In the mean time, what luck! Someone was nice enough to lend me a suit they were not using and to everyone’s surprise I found my way to the dock… on time and ready to go. Let me tell you what luck……

“The step” was out and awaiting me at the stern, I quickly loaded on board along with Howard, John, Jack and Harley. As I moved gear into the cabin I heard the heart wrenching THUD of foam cup on wood deck as my much needed supply of morning caffeine splattered. Howard looked over and asked? “Is that coffee?”….. “hmmmmm……no milk?” This was going to be a long day. Oh well.

We moved out of the inlet and into the ocean, greeted by gently rippling seas and warm sunshine. A beautiful day to go diving ….. diving where you might ask? The East Ridge of course! That is the one with the north and south portion that is west of the West Ridge but north of the South Ridge only if you approach it from the left. I personally am going to go with low lying and wooden in 94 fsw cause then my head doesn’t hurt so much.

We are quickly tied in and the pool is open and as boys will be boys ….. a mad dash is made for the water. One of the little dickenses is back soon enough at the ladder in need of some assistance zipping the last few inches of his zipper…. One man wet….

Avoiding the stampede, I carefully adjust the borrowed suit to get the best possible fit and quickly slide into my harness, hooking, clipping and adjusting with one last hose to fit on and I am done…… the dry suit inflator…… the one that does not fit this dry suit valve…… doh!!! Howard tries his hose and it does not fit either, this dive is not to be.

I slowly remove my gear. Today I will be crew. It’s a beautiful day on the water and I have cookies… this will work…there are worse things. I break down my gear and fold up the dry suit and pack it away. When I am done I wait at the ladder for the returning divers and note the clear surface water. It has a blue tinge to it instead of the Jersey green and I easily pick out divers as they hang on the line. One by one they arrive at the ladder and hand up spearguns and goody bags chock full of surprises.

The sand has shifted over the winters months revealing a bit more of the wreckage and fish and lobster abounded. 30-35 feet of viz and 47-49F water temps at 94 fsw depending on the computer you consulted. An outstanding dive reported by all, brown shark, dog fish, colorful anemones, lobster and fish…a shame for me to miss it. John tried his inflator hose on the errant valve and BINGO! We have a match. We quickly swap out hoses reassemble my kit.

Back in the suit with everyone’s help and I am right behind Howard jumping in the water. A knee on the gunwale and I make my usual graceful entry into the cool clear water. How do I know the water is cool and clear you ask? Because there was a race between my socks and my long johns to see which could soak up more of it. There is a leak….was it the suit or the seals? Doesn’t matter, it’s me and without ever descending I hit the ladder and climb back on board. 2 wet divers.

I once again break down my gear, wring out my socks and under roos and empty the dry suit boots before stowing it away. I get the hint….. today is not a dive day for me. Its cookies and sailing and oddly I am all right with that. It’s that nice a day.

Howard arrives back onboard with a stringer loaded with fish and I add them to the stash in the cooler. My only fish poking for today I am afraid. We have sea bass and lobster onboard and Howard…. He has found a new leak in his suit also….right leg this time…. 3 down….2 to go.

We have a slight “issue” with pulling up the hook and will suffice to say I am disappointed that Jack did not retrieve my “souvenir board” when he released the hook.

From here we went to the South Ridge which….well you get the idea… it was out there somewhere and it’s south of Rhode Island and it isn’t really a ridge. Again divers returned with full bags and stories of wreckage and fish galore, 30-35 ft of viz and 47F at 80fsw. Everyone was smiles except for John who climbed aboard, looked right at me and announced…. I had your dive!.... my tank leaked, my light died and the handle fell off my bag and 2 fish fell out…. And I’m wet…. That said with an impish grin since he was wearing a 5ml, his dry suit packed away till fall. 4 wet ……. Not really…. Jack is wringing his socks over the starboard side….. Its all 5.

We head in under sunny skies with coolers bursting. An infestation of fish, I believe, was the word of the day. Running out of fingers and toes, I stopped counting the sea bass as I poured them in the coolers and lobster were parked atop of them. A fine day it was.

We spent the ride home with stories of fishing and summer past on the Jersey Shore. Do you remember the trampolines in Lavallette, the name of the best bakery on the strip, the Parrot Club or the Chatterbox, when Kohrs was really custard and dune buggies on the beach?

Yes I am disappointed I missed some outstanding dives, but no I am not disappointed I spent a beautiful day on the water still a part of the diving and fun. Divers are good people….. thanks guys.

Footnote: with big grin and a flourish….. I backpacked my doubles……and daintily stepped from the deck…. to “the step”…… to the gunwale…… to the dock….

“The step”…..stop by sometime and see it…its sweet….saaaaweet

There's a Step!!

The three great elemental sounds in nature are the sound of rain, the sound of wind in a primeval wood, and the sound of outer ocean on a beach.
Henry Beston~ American, Writer

Today held all three, rain, wind and waves….. and a step…… the water, wind and waves are a given …. But a step!!! I can’t believe there’s a step! All this time and there’s a damned step!!!

I awoke this morning to fog and rain as I walked the dog and loaded the car. But I got no call so I headed on down the Parkway.

I arrived at the marina to a flurry of activity as everyone was emptying their cars and loading onto the Lady GoDiver for a day on the seas. It was duly noted I was diving singles this day and my gear was quickly stowed. I hadn’t planned on single tanks and I quickly swapped out hoses and arranged gear. It is amazing how quickly you acquire muscle memory to a certain set up and a little switch makes you have to stop and think.

We were 5 in all, Jack, Francis, Jeff, Howard and myself. And all 5 pairs of eyes were on the lookout as we headed out into the thick fog on the bay. As we reached the inlet the water took on a snotty attitude, with a thick chop following us all the way to the mouth of the inlet where deep rolling waves greeted us until we were clear of the land in the ocean. Once out, the water calmed and we made our way forward to our first stop the San Saba. Later in the season, this site will be continuously occupied by divers and fishermen alike and we felt confident today we would have it to ourselves.

We were correct and quickly hooked in and readied to see what the bottom held. The San Saba was an iron hulled freighter sunk in 1918 by floating mines laid by the enemy U-Boats of WWI that wrecked havoc up and down our coast. She lost 30 of her 37 member crew that night and now lies broken in two in 80 fsw with boilers, winches and other machinery spread across the sandy bottom.

I was ready in record time and quickly made my way to the rail…. Quickly should have been my clue…… As I put my knee on the gunwale, Howard called over to me “Are you going to take your fins?”….. He insisted… so I put them on and tossed myself into the water.

As I pulled down the line I felt a little light but a few tugs and I was on my way and my attention turned to trying to see something. The water was hazy and thick and I was at the chain when I finally made out the shapes of wreckage below. The bottom has warmed some, weighing in at about 46F, and a crisp current at the sand cleared the water to about 10 or 12 foot of hazy visibility. We were tied in to a huge open boiler, lying on its side, partially sunken into the sand and covered in soft corals and blooming anemones. If you went to the sand you could look through this tunnel of sorts, and it was littered with starfish and gi-normous clam shells, but only a few small fish. They would have to do. I tied in my reel and set out into the sand to see what was about. I am now using reel #3 as I await a new screw to replace the one I lost last dive out. This is my cave reel and for some reason there is a little bit of sticking as I play out line and move along. I keep adjusting until I am holding the adjustment screw in my hand and now just give in and put it in my pocket and move along.

There are collar shaped moon snail egg casings lying in the sand and starfish and clamshells and sand dollars….I choose a sand dollar for my shell bucket, but nothing else is of interest and I head back to poke about the wreckage. Here I find small blackfish and sea bass rummaging about, but Jack must have been ahead of me as all the holes are empty and no claws and antennae greet me.

I head back to the line and debate how to stow this reel. It is large and bulky and sure to unravel on the trip up. As I ponder, Jeff opens his bag and points….the decision is easy and I drop it in the bag and head up.

As we hang at our 3 minute stop, the water feels comfortable compared to the chilly hangs earlier this winter and my mind wanders as I ponder this. Looking at my computer I am surprised to note that I am no longer at 15 ft but back at 22 ft and Jeff is right with me. There is a bit of surge going on here and we have to pay a bit of attention as we finish our hang.

Topside, a single tank is a breeze to walk up the ladder compared to my doubles and I am back on board in no time. Emptying my dry suit pocket is a bit like Christmas, I apparently have not done so in a while. I pull out a knife, a moon snail shell, a clam shell, a rock, the screw to my reel and the broken pieces of my sand dollar….. Oh well…

The wind has picked up some and is apparently the culprit of our hang time dilemma as it rocks us about as we await our last divers return. Turns out, Jack has the same reel…. If I lose that screw next dive I now know where I am “shopping” for my new one…..

Our next stop is the Chappara, just a mile away, another freighter to fall prey to the U-boat mines of WWI, sinking just 3 weeks after the San Saba.

I have “issues” this time gearing up. I take forever gearing up and am a little damp from the previous dive and not happy. I will be sending my suit back to California for a final decision on my leaking seams….. somewhere in the dry part of a dry suit…. You should be dry right? Ackk….don’t start me…..

I do a knee roll into the water, I am sure looking more like I am cannonballing the last diver instead of following him down, and I am on my way.

The water is still 46F at 84 fsw and the visibility is still 10 to 12 feet but as I move along it does not seem as hazy. There is still a current but it feels slightly weaker, or maybe it is just the way it falls across the wreck, and I am not working as hard to move about. I am down on a short filled tank and plan on a short dive so I make the most of my time motoring along the wreckage and peeking all about. There are more fish here, they are not bigger than the San Saba fish but more plentiful. I collect a moon snail shell for my bucket and look about for some sinkers, only finding one in need of rescuing. As it turns out, Francis was ahead of me and rescued all the others…. Who knew…..?

I have peeked, poked, prodded and pocketed some shells…. I am approaching 500psi and my job here is done….. up the line I go. The surge is not present here and the hang is uneventful, as is my climb up the ladder…. I do like scrambling up the rungs with the lighter tank instead of lumbering with the doubles. We shall see….

The sun has broken though the haze and the day is turning out nicely, no more rain, or wind or waves… the cooler is filling nicely with a final count of 8 lobster, Howards on a roll, and some ling, one who was exceptionally ugly….. so I didn’t poke him.

This would be the end of the story if it wasn’t for the step…

I nap peacefully on the way in and awake to sunshine, flat seas and the sight of bulk heading….. we are back. The lines are secured and we begin to unload onto the dock….. crates, dry suits, dry bags and weights are placed ashore. The same routine for 2 years now. I have it down to a science. I slip into my harness and climb up on the transom….grab hold of the ladder and pull myself up standing…. Stretch over to the dock and clamor up on the bulk heading…. And then onto the back of my truck. One more tank and I am done.

As I turn I see Francis making his way with his rig also…. Only to have it shift a tad and what happens next you ask? You have to love this…..

Howard asks….”Francis, do you want ……. the step?”…… “I think so” he answers…..

There is a freaking step!!!! They all stand back and watch me struggle to get my tanks off the boat and then they pull out a freaking step!!!! Two years and no one tells me about “the step”…. Francis bobbles for 8 seconds and out comes the step.

Look out now….I’ll show them…..I know about the secret step….the damned step. Nice guys….nice.