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.