Hudson Grotto

A Grotto is an internal organization of the National Speleological Society (NSS). They generally function as the local NSS chapter/club. Many Grottos however, operate in areas outside of their local area, with many operating in several states. ...Wikipedia

Probably not what I am looking for

A Grotto is any natural or manmade cave near water or flooded or liable to flood at high tide that is associated with historic or pre-historic human use…… Wikipedia

More like it.

Hudson Grotto. I have not an idea on god’s green earth what a grotto is……and yet I offer to spearhead a social at one…….

So I Google….. I get several definitions, some sorting through is required, and one question lingers……

Hmmmm….. so is there coffee?

Much coordination and buffoonery goes into planning this event. People hem and haw regarding the merits of diving the cold waters. Who knew this grotto defies the laws of nature…. The bottom is spring fed and 72F and according to everything I have ever learned….. heat rises and therefore the warm water should extend to the surface right? Sorry must have hit my head and forgot where this was…..

We now approach the date and have been adopted by Scuba West Dive shop and have diving passes, a grill, a scuba cake and prizes. Much thanks to them and to Boats (Todd) who helped with all this.

We also have our divers who include a pair getting up 5 hours early and waiting patiently in the parking lot to begin, our foreign national who is unsure if she is bringing Ketchup or is expected to whip up a batch of catsup, Pinky of Pinky and the Brain fame adding chocolate doughnuts and begging to dive Sherpa the event, a Halcyon backplate and wing bringing sausage kabobs and one diver who refuses to leave Arizona and attend a social until it gets warmer here. Gotta love Florida, its’ never dull.

I awaken early morning with a booming headache but know I have to pull it together and get moving. Three hours later I have it under control and am on my way.

I arrive at Scuba West and sign in and Pinky grabs my tanks and tosses them into a cart heading for the water and hauls up my gear tote leaving me to carry my coffee and an inflator hose. I could get used to this.

When I arrive at the pavilion, there are chocolate doughnuts to go with my coffee, a grill is at the ready with coolers lined up next to it and a row of tables laden with plates, condiments and a really cool cake in the image of a beach. Saaaweet! I have to plan stuff more often.

Everyone is getting ready to dive and I begin to set up my gear. There is one small problem. I am 3 feet too short for the gear table. I assemble my gear, add the inflator hose, climb into my drysuit with just shorts and wool socks when I feel a gear issue erupt. My redundant buoyancy corral management system has disengaged. I seek out MissD for immediate assistance and the first of quotables for the day is uttered. After several minutes of silence and lack of movement I hear “Oh! I thought you wanted me to look down your pants”. Heads snap up and in a moment laughter erupts. This will be in my dive report.

I make my way over to my rig and slide an arm into the harness. I cannot jump up high enough to catch my other arm and drag a chair over for assistance. I hear a murmur from EANdiver… something to the effect of “this has emergency room written all over it”….. and slide into my harness. I jump down from the chair now hanging from my rig and pull it forward hoping not to be flattened face first as it plummets towards me. Life is good and I survive. But they definitely need to cut the legs off that thing.

As I pass by FlyingVisit, she is getting a bit of assistance gearing up and all heads snap up as we hear Boats proclaim “I’m not sticking ANYTHING between her legs!” Laughter again erupts as his face reddens and someone else hands Maz her crotch strap. Another one for the report for sure.

We make our way towards the water and climb in. A little help from Skim and my errant mask is there and I am ready to conquer the quest for poker chips. Chips have been laid along the walls of the grotto for finding and turning in for prizes. Super little touch and thanks again to Scuba West and Boats.

We descend the line and make our way into the cool dark waters, 61F to be exact. There is a platform at about 20 feet and we regroup, adjust our buoyancy and head on down to a line that runs the perimeter of the cavern at about 30 feet. Following this along there are ragged limestone walls, settled with silt and in the larger of the indentations sit amusing little oddities to gawk at as you pass by. A tree is with large branches is perched in one corner and we follow past it as it sits hauntingly still with branches outstretched waiting to snang anything that comes too close. As we move along I spy a chip and grab it and place it in my drysuit pocket. After this I move outward a bit to allow others to peer about and find some chips too.

After the first traverse we follow on down to about 60 feet and repeat the traverse with new and different outcroppings and ledges dispersed along the walls. There are Buddhas and gnomes, deer other little ditties in these alcove like indentations also. And you muse as you pass and see each one.

Below this level the grotto goes deeper to about 100 feet and has a well like indentation going even farther down. We don’t continue on as the wetsuit clad divers are starting to chill now and so we go on up to what we hope is sunshine and the smell of chicken on the grill.

As we remove our fins and prepare to climb out of the water the local residents swim all around us. There are catfish….. really big ones and snapping turtles, one is going undercover with a full coating of flowing green algae covering his shell. Many smaller fish dart in and out …..this is a poking heaven.

We arrive at the pavilion and Mc Loving has arrived freshly out of work, minus his gear…. Oops….. and we are joined by a new face Spectre and his sidekick Beanie. She spends the afternoon feeding hotdogs to the turtles and bread and icing to the fish in that kind of child wonder and fun that makes you smile. We all take a turn going over to watch.

Lunch is grand and my thanks to everyone who helped. Pinky’s wife makes excellent pasta salad and MissD the chicken was great. There were hotdogs and hamburgers and HAL does make a tasty kabob.

We sit and eat and talk and laugh and the time goes all too quickly. A group plans one more round in the water and in they go as the rest of us sit and continue to chat. Our 2:00 or 2:30 planned departure extends toward 4:00 as we slowly load up and prepare to leave.

We will do this again. And my thanks to everyone who helped with this and made me look good. And to Pinky who had lugged my gear in the beginning of the day…. I have to tell you as I was carrying my tanks to the lot, he offered to take them, but I said no, I have ‘em….. he was carrying his purse and 2 tissues, he had enough to handle……. His legend will live on. Takes all the pressure off of me.

Hot Buttered Lobster

Ingredients:

· live lobsters
· boiling salted water
· melted butter

Preparation:

Bring a very large kettle of salted water to a rolling boil.
Using long tongs, quickly but carefully lower live lobsters into the boiling water.
Simmer for about 10 minutes, or until lobsters are bright red.

Serve with melted butter for dipping.

I arrived among a flourish of running children and small and large dog scrambling on bright tile floors…. Bedlam at its best…..

The plan was to rest the evening and in the morning…..dive, dive, dive.

As I arrived, Becca, who has had some computer troubles lately, was trying desperately to get some much needed help in Key Largo from a computer guru in India to no avail. While she set out dinner I had a heart to heart with our friends overseas and got things moving along and by the end of the evening we were sorted out and kicked back just relaxing and gabbing away…..

Morning comes too quickly and we load up and head out for the Garden Cove Diver boat. It is the last of the lobster season and a small group of us are heading out so see if there are any left after the frenzy of the season. Our boat, a 36 foot 6 pack, offers ample room to spread out gear and relax for the ride. My DIN dilemma is quickly sorted out with the removal of plugs from several adaptable valves and we are on our way.

Today Becky is trying her new Hollis regulator and I am taking a pair of HOG fins on their maiden voyage. The air is warm, such a pleasure after our strange and cold winter, but the water still cool. There are three of us diving and we each opt for a different suit trying to figure out the best option for the day.

Scott has chosen to layer his 5ml and vest with a skin for good measure. I am going straight 5ml and Becky has chosen a 3ml with added hooded vest. Time will tell.

The captain has suggested we try one of the lesser hit reefs as lobster season is coming to an end and many spots are now picked over. We stretch out leisurely on the deck as we head out.

I have heard stories of the damage this past winter to the waters. Fish kills of tropicals that were just not prepared for the temperatures the waters dropped to. Turtles in distress and turtle rescues of numbers so large that wading pools were put in rooms to accommodate them all. Eels of bright green, blackened and washed up on the beaches and coral….. beautiful colored coral, turned dead and gray. It will take time for the waters to recover. I wonder what I will find. Any fish to poke, bright colors to distract me, polka-dotted lobsters with no claws waiting to be grabbed….. hmmmmmm.

We arrive at our first site and the captain moors us between four coral patches. Each offers a different opportunity to poke around and find the elusive hot buttered lobster…. Well not buttered yet maybe, but they will be.

We kit up and stride off the stern platform. Scott first, followed albeit slowly, but followed by me and then Becky, who hit the water with an…. “Oh My!” The look on her face told it all….. she was back on the boat much quicker than we ever got off and pulling my 3ml over her already layered suit. He second water entrance was followed by a huge grin…… much warmer .... and we were off. The water is a cool 72F and a thick dark color. Only about 30 foot of visibility here but we are not to be deterred.
.

Scott was taking pictures and we were hunting and keeping track of each other proved difficult. But not as difficult as finding the elusive hot buttered lobster.

At the tie in was a small coral head very easily described….. 3 feet tall, 2 branching corals and a tiny lobster hiding in a hole. Sing that to the tune of the 12 Days of Christmas…. It grows on ya.

We swim out to one of the larger coral heads. There is much more gray than I want to see but we do see sponges and branching corals holding firmly in place. Tube worms are scattered about with feather duster looking arms waving in the current. Hiding in amongst the structure are some temptingly sized snappers but alas Speargirl has no spear and a poke with my finger is the best we can do. We swim all about looking over and under but no lobster are to be found.

We move on over to a second spot and check below the coral ledge but still no lobster. Some black tetra are about and yellow butterfly fish, but no lobster. We swim around to the far side and there in a tall coral formation are two long thin antennae poking out from a hole. I make a grab and come up with only antennae and I try diligently to ease them down and out of the hole but come away with no luck. I suddenly feel something bounce off of my arm and as I look down I see a small lobster shoot for the hole with my little friend and Becky in hot pursuit. We look at each other and Becky motions tiny. They were both too small to keep and the thrill of the hunt was the best we would get so we moved on to try again. As I again round a corner Becky is trying to tickle out something from beneath an outcropping and she motions "big" this time, but his hiding hole is too far back and he too lives another day.

We head on back to the boat for a little warm sunshine and a new tank.
With dives this shallow we are not taking a surface interval but still manage to hang about and talk a few minutes before going back in. We vow to keep better track of Scott and we all step back into the water one by one.

Our third site is similar to the first two but still no lobster and Scott has run out of things of interest and motions to move on to the next site and we follow. We still find no lobster and spend our time looking diligently while pointing out things of interest for Scott to take pictures of.

Different fish are hiding amongst the corals, a large ray lies nestled in the sand, but no lobster. As we look about we find sea biscuits laying at the reefs edges and French grunts swim past. One of those ugly fish that looks like a rock hides nestled in the reefs edge. I think they are toad fish but they sure look like rocks to me. There are pink sponges that look like fingers made from playdoh and large spiny sea urchins peek from crevices daring you to stick your hand there to check about. Looking high and low for the elusive lobster, as we come around the ledge we lose Scott once more.

We go back up and over and look all about but to no avail and so up we head to look for either him or his bubbles at the least. On the surface we scan the water but see no sign of him. We checkout the boat in the distance….. quite the distance, we have swum out really far. And so we opt to surface swim back and watch for Scott to pop up looking for us. We lie on our backs and kick our way along while talking away about past dives and friends and family. We see no sign of Scott but pass over white coral heads reaching near the water’s surface and expanses of dark green water. As we look behind us the boat is still a fair distance away and we question our wisdom of swimming back but continue on.

As we approach the boat the captain calls out that Scott is already there, having swum beneath us undetected in the limited visibility the water offered today. Hmmm……

Our third dive was to be a drift and I was to be charged with carrying the flag.….. I am still new to them …… they will learn. The captain lines us up on the stern swim platform and one by one we enter the water vowing to keep together this time.

This reef is larger and has more life on it, corals of all shapes and sizes protrude as we swim past. Wavy fingers of multicolored corals and sponges.... some look like they are covered in a brown fur and others are bowl shaped. Large heads of brain coral spatter the scenery while star corals with their little tiny florets covering them are interspersed. Again we come upon a huge ray half buried in the sand. His wingspan is well larger than my arms can extend and his eye follows us as we move past but not a muscle is moved.

Our last site I was so intent on my search for lobster I didn’t really take in all the reef had to offer and barely noticed the fish and scenery but here I moved along like a tourist. Juvenile hogfish swim past and a huge grouper is nestled amongst the jutting reef structure. Many more sponges and corals are here. There are sheet corals layered one atop the other and sea fans sway in the current held fast to the reef with bright purple base. Small puffer fish hide in the reefs holes and rainbow parrot fish swim in and out.

The reef structure is much higher here and in some places natural bridges form swim throughs for fish and divers alike. The flag carrying diver can’t go through them…. Don’t ask why I know.

Queen angels swim regally along, disappearing in a cave like hole and reappearing a short while later. Damsel fish and blue tetra swim about, while butterfly fish and more parrotfish scurry past.

We are soon ready to surface. Three dives and we are starting to feel the cold. Time to call it a day. We all three surface, together, and the boat comes to pick us up.

We ride in eating oranges and snacks and soaking up the sun. Hot buttered lobster…. Wish I had some……but I don’t …. there is always next season……. and I enjoyed the day none the less. A burger and sweet potatoe fries at Mrs. Macs and my day is complete.

Rebecca loves her new regs. The way they breathed and the easy set up…they are her primary now. My fins…. Not a fan. The pocket too deep and the top edge flat across instead of curved made me uncomfortable and dug into the top of my foot. The spring straps on one fin swiveled around and came off on one side each time I removed them at the ladder. I didn’t even use them the third dive, I swapped them out from my old fins. I will keep on looking.

Diving in New Jersey

Earth hath more silver, pearls, and gold,
Than eyes can see or hands can hold.
Yet the treasure I want so dear,
I can neither see nor hold or make seem clear.

~ Anne Bradstreet
They say you can’t go home….. I am not so sure that is true……

It was cold in Florida….. So I did what any red-blooded displaced Jersey Girl would do. I packed up and headed north for some good old Jersey diving. I arrived just in time for the snowstorm of the month.

My ride, the LadyGoDiver, my buddies for the day, Captain Howard, Francis, Bart the Moon Snail Master, and Captain Stan.

As we wait for the last of the outgoing tide to clear the dock so we can load onboard, Bart jumps up and clears the snow from the deck.

The heater fires up and we head out of the inlet on gently rolling seas and contemplate where to go.

The wreck of choice is the Bell Holder. Now, a lot has happened since the last time I dove this wreck. The Bell Holder is no longer the wreck where they found the bell holder but not the bell. The bell has since been found and now it truly is just the Bell Holder.

As usual there is always something……things always happen….. like someone forgets their fins when they jump in…… you know …..things ……(was Bart this time....not me!)

I suit up and make my way over to the port side, place my knee on the gunwale and launch myself over the side…..such grace……. I’ve still got it.

There is a strong surface current and one by one we are towed forward to the anchor line and we descend.

The water is dark and green, almost a jewel tone, and thick with egg casings. Millions of them floating all around. As I reach the wreck at about 62fsw, I tie in and head out. This wreck is familiar to me and I look about to see what changes may have been made with this crazy winter weather. I am heading towards the bow to look for my friend the resident eel. He is always there but I am thinking this strange season may have forced him out to deeper water to keep warm and I am right. His little home is empty….the blinds are pulled, the lights are out and his mail is piling up.

Not much else has changed. There is still the long mast like wood jutting out into the water. It is taking a beating and I can see the signs of deterioration showing on its length. The walls are covered in assorted corals and anemones; it all just awaits the return of sea life with the warming of the waters.

My fingers are starting to feel the cold of the 38F water, I use 5ml gloves because the 7ml are just too thick for me, but I don’t want to leave just yet….and so I continue on. I see no fish around and the visibility is only about 5 feet so I peer closely as I move about. There are starfish in the sand. Not huge ones, not tiny ones, but a respectable supply of midsized ones. With no fish to poke I have to settle for poking the lonely stars laying scattered about. I am just making sure they are still with us and not frozen solid. Hey….someone has to check on these things, inquiring minds want to know.

Shells choices are limited. The only ones I see are clamshells…….hundreds of huge empty clam shells lay piled against the wreck, pushed in with the working currents of the season. As I move off a bit into the sand to see if anything is unearthed I see the definitive ridges in the sand showing the waters movement but not much else.

I am approaching 30 minutes and freezing fingers and remember that Bart is off collecting sinkers and Stan is digging for gold, time to go up and see if they have had any luck.

It is a cold hang on the line but I do and float watching a gazillion egg sacs float past. Sadly they remind me of snot and I am not imagining new little friends to poke. Just elongated jellied sacs encompassing a round brown spot. They practically block out the green of the water. But I work to look past them and can still make out the emerald green color so familiar to me.

As I climb the ladder I have hooked my reel to my scooter ring and my fingers just don’t want to work the clip. Bart reaches down and grabs the reel and I climb onboard with a soggy thump.

A few minutes of warming in front of Wall-E (swear the heater on board looks just like the robot from the movie) and I am ready to hear how everyone did. We had navigational glass, a brass valve and antique sinkers, lobster and other goodies. Life is good.

We head over to our second site, we are going off shore to look for some better viz and heading for the Cobblestone Wreck, another familiar site. As we make our way out hoods and gloves sit steaming around the heater. A close watch is kept on all to prevent the annual melting of the dive gear and we do good.

As we get ready for dive #2 some of us fall by the wayside……it wasn’t me that said Stan wimped out….but he did. Others of us launch ourselves into the sea. The current is still cruising along and we are still getting rides to the anchor line.

I drop down and note that the water is clearer, about 15 feet of viz, not as many egg sacs, not quite as green, and a whole degree warmer at 39F at 87fsw. I hit the wreck and reach for my reel. There is a decent current on the bottom this time and I plan to hug the wreck. Do you remember Bart taking my reel on the ladder? Me neither. Doh!! No biggie, I just locked on to Bart’s line and followed it out till I found him. I began rooting around as he did and while Bart found sinkers and other treasures, I found an odd piece of wood and a long metal spike.

As he reeled on in, I trailed behind looking for things to poke and again found no fish out and about. The cold kept this dive shorter and up we went. To the boat and the warmth of Wall-E.

Upon surfacing I still had my spike in hand but the piece of wood I had carefully balanced in my pocket was gone. And Stan wouldn’t jump in and find it for me …… go figure…..

As it turns out my spike isn’t brass (I still don’t believe it ) but if I paint it up pretty and give it a story…… no one will ever know.

A tiny crab is found in among the days treasures and offered to me to poke…..alas he is frozen solid and putting him too near the heater produces grilled crab.


We are making a third stop today on the Stanley H., a new set of numbers, and throw out a buoy as Captain Stan shows us his boating skillz. Without a doubt…… “THAT was going in my dive report”……

This site shall be revisited…… there may or may not be any gold bars, if I told you they would have to kill me…. Really….they told me that…… and we brought up none of the silver and china this trip…. Just too cold and tired at this point. I am sure Howard marked where the 12lb lobster sat on the porthole through which you could see the safe and what appeared to be the outline of a bell. He will be going back….. true story…. Will just have to save it for another day……..

We caught up on the local gossip and revisited past trips, ate cookies and smiled a lot….. it’s what diving is all about, at least for me. Good times, good friends, good dives…… you’re not rid of me yet. I will be back. I love diving in New Jersey, it's good to be home......