How Many Days Until Spring?

Cold! If the thermometer had been an inch longer we’d have frozen to death.
~ Mark Twain ~
It was chilly today…..we will leave it at that for the time being.

A bit of chill in the air this morning as I set out for the lady GoDiver and a day’s diving. Arriving at the marina, yesterdays wind had died down and the morning was clear and crisp.

Four of us loaded on board, myself, Howard, John and Bob, and the new heater (that looks like Wall-E of movie fame) was going full force. An apparent recent reorganization onboard worked wonders and with all our gear loaded on board the head was empty and we were sprawled across the seats as we headed out of the inlet with only the icing on the windows giving hints of the day to come.

With choices of hundreds of wrecks to visit, the #9 Wreck is decided upon. Again I am lost. The best I can tell you is that it is a wooden barge in 80 feet of water and you can’t dive it unless you have dived Wrecks 1 through 8 first. I lied and we went diving.

I believe this is also referred to as the Sylvanus, or the Steam Canal Boat Austin - piloted by SYLVANUS GREENWOOD -- reportedly a well-known boatman on the Erie Canal. This Steam Boat reportedly went down with all hands near Perth Amboy, N.J. about February 1903.

The water was flat and the air cold as we headed north for our first dive. We discussed our local wreck museums, past dives, wet dry suits and dive trips south. Time passed quickly and suddenly we were there.

As I geared up my fingers ached from the cold and relief was found in the steamy water bucket we dipped our hoods and gloves in before slipping them on. It took me a minute to figure out why my mask was so foggy as I wiped at the lens with my gloved hand, but ice had formed inside the mask and Howard gave it a scraping and a warm dip to get me on my way.
With little current running we were tied in off the stern and soon divers dropped one by one in the water and down the line.

As I slid beneath the water the lone thin strip of exposed skin on my forehead made its presence known and threatened an ice cream headache if not attended to and so I descended with my hand on my hood warming the errant area just enough to ward of the chill. The water was a dark green and thick with those little stringy thingys so popular this time of year, but as we neared the wreck the water cleared and a respectable 20-30 feet of visibility showed 3-4 foot high wooden walls and planking stretching out before us.

I peeked and poked the tiny blackfish taking refuge near the sand and in each nook there seemed to be a large sinker neatly placed on display. I soon took up sinker hunting, filling my pocket up to the top. I barely had room to squeeze in my brass artifact find and no room was left for a souvenir shell. My fingers were now numb from the waters cold and I turned on back to the anchor line and thoughts of the warm cabin.

I have no idea how the new wing managed, as I believe I spent the entire dive puffing air only into my suit for warmth and not the wing. I felt dry in my suit but the cold settled in as I made my way up and hanging in 15 feet of icy cold water with a crystal clear view of the dive ladder was tortuous.

As I grabbed hold of the ladder I could feel the slushy beginnings of ice forming and John reached down and grabbed my manifold to help me up and keep me from slipping back into the water.

Let’s just say that the warmth of the cabin brought surface interval discussions of hot tubs in the snow and trimmings for the “new” boat, including the hot showers, heated rails and salon with the 42 inch plasma TV. OK so maybe not the TV…. But the rest of it for sure…..Please buy the old boat……

Anyway….back to the task at hand. All four computers gave a different water temperature. We had 37F, 39F, 41F and 42F. Take your pick. Artifacts were found, sinkers rescued, lobsters harassed and rays and eel pouts spotted. Bob recovered a very respectable fish with a clean shot through the head and Howard brought up a plethora of scaled creatures with the worst dental work I have seen in a long time. I poked them too.

Our second dive was at an all too familiar wreck, the Bell Holder. Bob remembered the actual name of the wreck, but I forgot it already, but I will ask him again.

I had been debating whether to make the second dive as I was just thawing out from the first but could not pass up a chance to visit my good buddy, Edgar D. Conger III. Eddie is a gargantuan eel who has taken up residence in the very end hole of the wreckage where the mast or long wooden post extends out into the sand and I always stop to see him when I am there and he comes out to greet me. It would just be rude to be in the area and not stop by and so I once again suit up and drop over the side. Large blackfish were spotted here also and lobster but only small ones were talken. We were all cautious, calling it at about 30 minutes and feeling much better not waiting around for the cold to send us up once more.

Once more onboard we raised the dive ladder and looking out at it from the cabin, the icicles that once dripped down as we climbed the ladder pointed straight up in the air making for an unusual sight. But we warmed up as we headed on in, the warmth of the cabin, sunshine and flat seas slowly softening the memory of the cold edge of the day.

Just some January Musings

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet
ice cold in the snow,
stood puzzling and puzzling,
how could it be so?
~Dr. Suess~

Five hardy souls were we this morning as we sat at the dock waiting to hear if the Lady GoDiver would set sail.

I just got my stitches healed and my drysuit back from repairs, I was ready to go....this dive was to be dry by golly, even if it wasnt that warm.

It looked cold this morning when my alarm went off. As I loaded that last of my gear in the car, it was cold, not quite 10 F yet. As I drove from Pt Pleasant to Belmar, I noted that only 3 people were up....whats up with that,only 3 lights on....where were all the old people that have to get up to p**? Must have been cold if they werent getting up.

From past experience, I knew not to get doughnuts when I stopped for coffee, the Capt and crew on this boat are cookie monsters, so I searched out a market with an early opening to pick up the days snacks.

With this in mind....I think Howard's new boat should be called "Chips Ahoy"...but anyway....
Arriving at the dock, we all pulled in one by one, but an unfortunate series of events prevented todays dive....so we went out to breakfast instead.

I do have to mention.....one of us had ICECREAM for breakfast.....Gotta love divers...

Popsicle Diving

The old man knew he was going far out and he left the smell of the land behind and rowed out into the clean early morning smell of the ocean.
~Ernest Hemmingway “The Old Man and the Sea”~
Hmmmm…… lets see …… last time I dove it was 74 F water temps and 100 ft viz ….. today it was 26 F as I loaded on board for a 44 F dive with 20 ft visibility …… what was I thinking? …… going off and diving that warm water stuff ….

A tad nippy this morning as I made my way to the Lady Godiver, 26 F, and Howard moved the boat on me again, this was a 2 cuppa coffee kinda morning.

I arrived at Main One and began loading my gear onboard. Francis, John, Mike and Stan the popsicle man were already there as was a lone swan named Delilah, hereinafter referred to as D. Swan. Dee kept close watch as we set up our gear and after finishing, she and I had a heart to heart while we shared some Munchkins. They go straight to her hips but she loves them anyway. Scott from Shore Aquatics stopped by to say hello and soon after we were all stowed away and set out with Dee swimming as fast as she could to keep up.

Shark River was flat but I had heard the wind would be at work today. I read it on the internet, so it had to be true.

We made our way 5 miles out to a wreck whose name escaped the good captain, but whose remains held promise of good hunting. Upon arriving, we were greeted with 3 footers, rolling fast and hard and having their way with the boat as we tried to hook into a piece of the wreckage. It was decided that we would forego this site and head inshore for something more protected, and we set sail for the Bell Holder. You remember the Bell Holder…. wooden wreck, inshore, not Belle Holder as in ladies name, but Bell Holder as in they only found the holder and not the bell…. that Bell Holder.

I have my new wing, to better fit my tanks, and cant figure out how to get my computer back in the console, so I guess it will remain a wrist mount for the time being. My drysuit valves have been tightened and my manifold lubricated. A never ending process this kit of mine. Lets dive.

We were bundled in our warm under roos and tucked in our rigs as we rolled off the side, well most of us were. Stan the popsicle man was diving wet, on purpose, go figure. Earlier, in the cabin, we had questioned why his booties were smoking. He apparently has a system to all this.

As I descended on the line, I was sure to hold on as the water was a thick green color and the only things I could see were the line and my hand if I was close enough. I could feel the trickle of water on my left arm as my suit leaked once more. It was not looking good.

As I arrived at the anchor things opened up considerably and the wooden planking came into view. Running left of the tie in to the end of the wood and ribs, several small blackfish swam about and starfish were all that were tucked beneath slowly decaying boards. Here I found my shell for my bucket at home and as I looked about, I “tapped several fish on the shoulder” to ask directions to where the larger denizens were congregated. Okay, so I poked them and pointed, happy?

Back at the tie in I could feel the water squish in my sleeve but headed right to have a look. Here was where the big guns were hanging. Swimming in and out of holes but staying close to the safety of the wreck. At the end of the debris, a long wooden pole extended out into the sand. Possibly a mast or even a wooden shaft of some sort, I gave a look and pondered this before turning back. Back at the wreck, I spied a large eel curled up outside a hole. His tail was wrapped round him like a cat curled up on a rug in front of the fire and the haziness of the water played with the greens of his body making him a spectrum of color all snuggled there in the sand in front of his den. He made a striking picture.

Francis had his camera with him and I brought him over to the scene as quickly as I could, but my squiggly friend had already moved on. I could have easily stayed much longer with so much to poke under and about but I was chilled now and needed to go up.

I followed Francis up the line and as I hung in the hazy cloud of green water I thought hard for the name of the dry suit guru I had been told about. The name did come to me and my dry suit will be paying Steve Gamble a visit.

With the post being gone from the ladder for winter, climbing on board was a bit of a challenge with nothing to grab onto. As I reached the top step, a quick lift on my manifold brought me over the transom and into the cabin to warm up. Thank you gentlemen.

The water here was much calmer but still had a bit of fight in her and we pulled from the mooring as we waited for the last of the divers to exit the water. Several nice sized fish were speared and John managed to just reach out and grab what looked to be a blackfish of maybe 12 lbs. I am sure that fish was more surprised than John as he went into that goody bag. Good job!

I poured water out of my sleeve, wrung out my thermal top and changed into warm dry clothes. With a chill on me, I was done for the day. And of course, as luck would have it, our second dive of the day was on the Vega, a wreck I have never been on. Oh well, next time.

Mike and John opted to sit out this dive also. So it was up to Francis to bring us back pictures and Stan the popsicle man to give a report. They headed over the side, Francis with his camera and Stan with speargun in hand and we waited to hear what was below.

The Vega is a sunken ferry, lying turtled and intact on the bottom, its metal hull just beginning to show signs of giving way to the oceans poundings. There were fish, but all small and Francis videoed the exterior to share with those of us who did not visit her. As we readied for the ride in the air was still steel cold but the sun shone down keeping the damp and gloom that could have been at bay.

I have had better days on the water, and certainly much worse. Tis good to be wet, even on days such as these. I will go again.