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.

Dutch 2009

A new supply of round tuits has arrived and are available from Mary. Anyone who has been putting off work until they got a round tuit now has no excuse for further procrastination.

Thank goodness none of us needed to get a round tuit. Tuesday’s boat dive with Chris was cancelled, but not to be deterred, a round of diving at Dutch was planned.

I hadn’t been to Dutch yet this year. I missed opening day and the flurry of socializing and diving after a long winters run. Life just gets in the way some times. But it didn’t stop our band of merry divers from partaking of the sun and warm air, uncrowded conditions and what is surely the last of the good spring viz on this day.

Getting up at 2AM to get organized at home and get out, I was actually on time and someone, we won’t say who, was not ready…. Hmmmm.

We are meeting friends old and new. Myself, High Maintenance…. I mean BoomerNJ Chris, Dr. Frnak, Jay (Couped243), John, a single diver we adopted on the spot and Kelli (Scubanicely) who brought chicken! I like her, I don’t care what Frnak says.

As usual we were a mix of gear, tanks and ability and the fact that it doesn’t matter is what I enjoy about this group. As we geared up there was hood whining, and hose problems and someone who did not follow the underoo advice, but he learned. Lots of learning ….. things like weight placement, hose management, recipes for zoo animals and the fact that you cannot lock your keys in the tire well….you need them to open the door to open the well…. as well as it’s not as easy to disconnect the car alarm as you would think.

I clipped on my compass just in case I was called upon to lead, but by the time everyone stopped laughing the car had been locked and so I kept it with me just in case. Where do people hear these stories? Soon we were off with Doctor Directions AKA Frnak, in the lead and our gaggle of divers following behind.

We visited the school bus and then on to the un-named boat with most of us leaving there and heading to the HellDiver Plane. Upon arriving at the plane a quick head count made a conversation with our lead diver necessary. After a brief moment of confusion where Frank thought my gloves didn’t fit and my hands were cold, he did the math and flashed me the “yep! ones missing” sign. As we turned to search for our errant member, through the haze of silt appeared our wayward son, hereinafter to remain in sight.

Our trip back to the docks remained uneventful save a run in with a large speckled trout who insisted on not giving Frank the right of way. A quick smack sent him my way and the obligatory game of chase and poke was on. I won.

The surface interval was pleasant as usual with warm sunshine, plenty of food, good conversation and good natured teasing. A tent with no floor piqued our curiosity and Kelli and I made a quick trip over to say hello and get the scoop. What can I say… it had to be done. Lastly, a quick stop to say hello to Carl and friends and then we were gearing up for our next dive.

This little jaunt took us over the helicopter, past the underwater bushes, around the telephone poles and to the tanker where Frank was found playing with the bathroom sink. I am sure this was strategically placed for future reference before we headed on back in. We had 46F water at 68fsw and about 30 foot of viz….depending on who you were diving behind.

As we stood on the dock removing our fins, we watched as John took some extra water time to practice shooting a bag before joining us topside. Nice job.

While it may not be opening day….. so begins the season. See you in the water….. when I get a round tuit. Maybe I’ll get one for my birthday…. who knows.