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.

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.

The Saga of the Princess Cheryl Wreck Continues

Experience is a wonderful thing. It enables you to recognize a mistake when you make it again. ~ Anonymous

It’s my fault, it’s the karma of the wreck, lobsters don’t get that big being stupid ya know, but we will be better prepared next time…..I am sure of it. Swear it isn’t me, some days just go like that, as do some wrecks, but, I am getting ahead of myself.

"Honesty is the best policy, but insanity is a better defense" ~ Anonymous

.

I am going to be honest here…and tell you the WHOLE story….. as usual.

Howard moved the boat on me….. again. That’s 3 times this year. Call me crazy….but finding the Lady GoDiver is getting suspiciously like a game of Where’s Waldo. This is a whole new marina and he sent me directions …… and then he sent me his cell, just in case….and then he sent John out to the road to flag me down. Good thing cause I’m quick and John didn’t catch me the first time past. This wasn’t just a 2 cuppa coffee morning, I brought a carafe.

The day held promise of warm sunshine and diving. I put out my chair and sat and finished my coffee while the final preparations for the trip were completed, and then climbed onboard. It was still a little nippy as we headed out and as usual, the conversation turned to where should we dive. Surprisingly, the decision was made rather quickly, and….. I even knew where we were going. The Princess Cheryl Wreck from our numbers dive last fall. Woo Hoo!

You remember the Princess Cheryl Wreck…… low wooden walls with cleats and lots of lobsters in the hidey holes…. Engine block and prop with some copper tubing off to the side and John, I mean, UD (as in Unnamed Diver) had 5 lobsters make a successful break for freedom as he laid claim to a gauge of some sort, leaving me to bring back the only 2 keeper lobsters of all 4 dives that day. That Princess Cheryl Wreck.

After making a few passes and not finding our target it was decided to head a little farther north to the Seaside Schooner and try again on our way back.

We arrived on site in with the sun shining but the air still cool and the fun began. With the grace of a ballerina, almost, I executed a Jersey roll off the starboard side and made my way down. The water was crystal clear the first 5 feet and dark thick green after that. As I made my way down the line I could feel the cold of the water. I had only worn 3ml gloves and was regretting the decision already. As I floated down I could sense the bottom was coming but could see nothing but green water and myriads of the stringy egg casings filling the spaces around me. I had neglected to ask the depth, but welcomed the sight of Francis’s blinking line marker as I approached 70fsw along with a clearing of the water to about 15 feet of visibility at the sand.

Francis was just finishing his tie off and I followed after him as we made our way along a wall of broken down, sanded in, wooden ribs. At the beginning was a huge open hydroid and some anomies and soft corals covering a section of the wood and as we moved along small sea bass filled in the nooks and crannies. I poked and prodded with great care to not to stir things up, as Francis was busy with his camera.

Although my computer claimed 44F here on the bottom, my hands were feeling the cold and I signaled Francis I was heading on back. I peeked all around as I made my way back to the tie in, which was on a large boiler broken in two and laying in the sand. As I arrived at the hook, my poor attention span took hold and I chased fish into the boiler and all about and then, further distracted by shiny objects, I rescued a small herd of 8 oz sinkers and bright silver swivel clips.

By this time, Francis was back and we headed on up the line for the boat and hopefully some warm sunshine.

I am a happy camper now that the post is back on board at the ladder. Giving me that last handhold up high makes my way up the ladder so much easier. Topside we snacked and shared information from our dives as we all went in different directions ……… and since we did not, at the time, know the name of the wreck, (I think these guys name them as we go along), there was discussion of dubbing it the QC2 …... I liked that.With everyone back onboard, we headed back south in search for our errant wreck, and this time, we were right on target. As a matter of fact, we hooked into practically the same spot as last fall.

This little gem was still at about 70 fsw and the water held at a pretty Jersey green, with 15 feet of viz and 44F. I had put on my thicker gloves and was feeling much better as we arrived on the wooden walls and I began my search for treasure.

The wall was filled with small fish and a lone sea crab. As I moved along, I ran my new reel off of the wreck and a short distance away came across a really long and large square timber in the sand. This did not look to be part of the same wreckage, but what do I know. A short distance off of this was a small pile of wood fairly sanded in and inhabited by a big old grumpy eel pout. No sense of humor this guy so I moved along.

Heading out perpendicular, there is decking and boards in the sand and as I lifted them, there were several small lobster that took off like shots. They were just too small to chase after so I moved on to the engine block and prop and some big boiler looking thingy. If I was more mechanically inclined I might actually get the names of these pieces right but I am in it for the fish and so I bear with me here.

Tucked in amongst this mess was a lobster with my name on him. Sweet little tattoo on his crusher claw …. a heart with “Cheryl” written on ribbon across the center….. ahhhh. But he played hard to get and so I headed back to the tie in and made my way up the line.

Confidence is the feeling you have before you understand the situation. ~ Anonymous

Howard was the next group going down and I explained how to find my brawny friend. 6 pounder at least and just waiting for him I was sure. He was “confident” he was going to snag that lobster I had left behind and threw himself overboard in his hurry to get there.

I packed away my gear as I awaited the return of Howard and my muscular meaty friend. For some reason, my suit is now leaking at the leg, most likely due to my climbing jaunt through the rocks at the jetty 2 weeks ago, and I seemed to have “lost” Tommy’s screw from the reel…. I’m taking the screw off his and putting it on mine, just don’t tell him. Other than that, I am good.

As we scanned the water we could see bubbles some distance off the line and they stayed in place for quite some time. Howard was obviously doing battle with behemoth boy.

After the official and lengthy pulling of the hook I greeted Howard at the ladder and helped him and his goody bag onboard. His goody bag held a story……no lobsters, but a story ..... there were a few lobsters, of keeping size, but they were dwarfs compared to his original target…… and an all too familiar tale of lobster…..on the Princess Cheryl Wreck….. making an all too successful break for freedom.

All eyes fell to me. This is the second time here…. Hmmmmmm.

I think the lobster just unhooked the bag and walked out….. he is waiting for me ….. he wants just me to lovingly wrap my hands around him and pull him close, placing him in my bag at my side and making him my own. Yup that’s what I think…. We will be going back there…… I am sure of it.

A good book has no ending. ~ - R D Cumming

And so the saga of the Princess Cheryl Wreck continues.

Dive Team Training

The shoals are there still, the winds howl loud, the rain beats down, the waves burst strong. Some night, in the chill darkness, someone will make a mistake: The sea will show him no mercy. ~ John T. Cunningham

It was windy…….very windy. And cold. Not that this has ever stopped me before. I met a group from the Point Pleasant Beach Dive Team and we headed for the inlet.

The water was dark and murky. Kind of a brown green and the wind was kicking up quite a chop. It was decided that instead of a dive…..there would be a drill.

“Lost Tourists on the Jetty” ……. Their very own version of Hide and Seek. Two members played victim and while the rest suited up, they went out among the jetty jacks (long concrete pieces used to protect the end of the jetty. The way they are piled looks like a childs toy jacks) to find a place to hide, simulating a tourist or fisherman falling off the jetty and into the rocks.

The rest of us then broke into 3 teams of 3 and went looking. Let me say, this is not the first time they have done this. They are very good at hiding.

Sue was located first. Playing the unconscious victim wedged in the rocks. She had found a cave like section of rock and wedged body parts all around. I was part of the 4 man team down with her as not everyone fit through the opening she had gone in through. It was tight….very tight and we became “close” friends as we climbed over each other lining up.

After stabilizing the head and neck and dislodging the body parts, we proceeded to use the incoming waves to bring her out of her hole and up with us. The tide….the incoming tide…..that with each wave came farther and farther into our little “room”.

As we pulled her up, she was face down and we were attaching her that way to a back board. Upon extricating her we rolled her over and now the fun began. While holding the board we needed to finish strapping her in with straps that were wedged under and around everything and one and now the tide was really coming in and several times we came close to not being able to lift her to safety from the waves rushing in, and water surrounded her face as we worked .

Once getting her in place we now had to get her out. Certainly not through the slit we shimmied in from. We started crawling out toward the water carrying our passenger with us.
Once out to the water, we found an opening large enough to pull her up through and with support from above we stood the backboard straight up and hauled her to the top of the rocks.

I won’t say I wasn’t getting a little nervous as the water was rising and rushing in about us and we still had to get out. I have short legs here and those are some gi-normous rocks. With a little assist we all made it up and now we had to get our cargo to shore. Forming a human chain we passed her along until she was safe on land.

The value of teamwork and the efforts of many make a rescue like this possible in real life. This type of real life/real time practice puts it all in perspective.

Our second “victim” was harder to find. I think he fell asleep waiting for us. I yelled Marco hoping for a Polo as we climbed about looking betwixt and between the rocks for him. He was finally spotted and again in a tight hole. Again they called for me to go in but there just was not enough room in this hidey hole for all of us and I stayed at the opening protecting another member who was half in the hole from hitting his head on the rocks as he worked.

This time the victim could not be brought out on the board as it just didn’t fit back through the only way in or out. And so we went to Plan B. Stabilize and bring out without the back board and then board him up and raise him out.

This job is not easy. It’s like a puzzle to figure out. It’s definitely a group effort. And this is only one of the many things they do. It will be interesting.

Where the Heck Did I Dive?

Below in the deep there's adventure and danger,

That's where you'll find Diver Dan.

The sites that he sees are exciting and stranger,

Than ever you'll find on the land!

He moves among creatures of frightening features,

Flashing teeth slashing jaws, flapping fins snapping claws.

He protects and he saves his friends under the waves,

That's where you'll find Diver Dan.

Hey boys and girls….did ya miss me? I didn’t think so. After a slow start this year born of weather, sniffles and travel, I was determined to get out today…. the first day of spring, promises of warming ocean temps, promises of sunshine and salt air…..I was excited.

I packed up the night before, powdering my seals and searching out my errant 4th element top and just the right socks to make my toes toasty. I set my alarm and drifted off to sleep with visions of shipwrecks draped in seaweed and fish large and small, lobsters and scallops, hydroids and aneomes and starfish, sharks…. eels…. giant squid and whales….. ummmm.

BEEEEP….BEEEEEEP……BEEEEEP…..time to get up. I gathered my gear and headed for the car. It was a bit nippy out, not spring like at all…… and I had to scrape the frost off of the windows, where was my sunshine and flowers?

I stopped for coffee and to scrape more frost from the windows and soon was on my way. As I arrived at the marina I spied Francis and Howard onboard and as I backpacked my tanks down the gangway I was passed by Jack all sunny and tanned from his latest Florida foray. I loaded on board and soon Bart roused and loaded on, joining us just before Bob arrived and now we were ready to head out. Six eager little faces straining to see what awaited us at the end of the inlet. There was talk of the Hankins, the Big one or the Little one, String Wreck, Locomotives, Spring Lake Sailer and the Bell Holder(I got the Historical Divers report but will save it for the next dive on her) ….. and of course the need for lobster, mussels, sinkers and a fish two. We didn’t want much.

The reported swells with 17 seconds betwixt and between were greatly exaggerated and we found ourselves with a north wind and some mondo chop….. like the little ship on Gilligan’s Island we braved the waves and headed for………what else………the Cobblestone Wreck. I think it amuses them to do this to me and they weren’t done having their fun yet, saving the best for a little later.

Now, I have been on the Cobblestone wreck before. An old wooden barge that sank carrying a load of Cobblestone. It is sometimes referred to as the New Deal wreck since it is close to another popular wreck and can be easily substituted when there is another boat there first, thus, giving you a “new deal”.

We arrived and quickly snagged a piece of wreckage and the pool was open. Now, someone, no finger pointing here, forgot the heater…… so it was a bit chilly gearing up this morning. But anticipation of the wreckage with low lying debris, high sections of intact wall, and sinkers and lures strung like Christmas tree decorations called to us, and we quickly geared up and dropped one by one into the cold green water. I was last in (hey…far end of the bench and my gloves were at the bottom of the hot water cooler!!! I was being polite)….last in and as I surfaced from my perfectly executed knee roll over the starboard gunnel I caught in the strong surface current and was swept towards the stern even as I kicked steadily trying to make headway to the granny line thoughtfully in place. As I grabbed hold of the line and pulled myself down, something was just not right….. I stopped and jiggled my rig, trying to reposition it on my back but that wasn’t it, a little deeper and my neck seal started to press in at my throat, making my breaths come a little harder each time. I stopped, got vertical, took a few breaths and tried moving gear about, adjusting hoses and my valves, pulling tanks up higher and tugging at my hood. But it just seemed to get worse, so before reaching the anchor I turned my dive.

I surprised Howard and Francis as I started up the ladder, they hadn’t expected me back so soon and they grabbed my manifold and pulled me up on deck and off the bouncing ladder. This was not good and I was disappointed. As I pulled at my neck seal and adjusted the layers of clothing below it, divers began to appear at the ladder.

Bart first, with only a few grand sinkers in tow and questions about the wreck. Visibility was dark green and only about 10 feet, no fish and there was a current on the bottom….. but the wreck reminded him of something else. Then Jack was at the transom with a good sized lobster in tow and a similar story, commenting that the wreck had a spooky look to it. Bob arrived on deck and as Howard geared up I was right behind him, having reworked my insulating layers, lengthening my reg necklace and foregoing my chest strap I once again rolled over the side. I grabbed hold of the line as I entered the water and came up ready to vent my wing and head down.

Much better this time and I noted the thick dark green color or the water as I made my way down. As my hand ran out of rope and began to feel chain, I still could not see the wreck. The tall aneome and coral covered piece of wreckage appeared quite suddenly and I followed the chain down to the anchor and the wall of wreckage down to the sand.

Here, piled together, were gargantuan starfish, nestled one atop the other. There were long thin boards lying in the sand and I pulled at them looking for a sturdy place to tie my reel in. The water was cloudy and green and visibility about 10ft. I had tossed extra weight in my pocket for the current and an extra line cutter for the mountains of fishing line always present here. As I made my way down the wall of the wreck I noted it was covered in hydroids, anemones and soft corals. There were broken clam shells in the sand and live sand dollars covered in their dark brown velvet coats. Large hermit crab shells dotted the landscape and each one I picked up was occupied. No fish were about and moon snails were nowhere to be seen. I passed several perfect circles of hydroids and aneomes closing up as I approached and swaying gently in the current as if there were a breeze blowing past. They were perched in the sand just a few yards from the wreck walls and looked to be about the size of car tires…..hmmmm

I ran out my line, staying close to the sand and looking about for something more to poke but it seemed no one was home today. I turned and headed back reeling in my line as the current carried me back and staying higher on the wreck hoping to catch a glimpse of something. Maybe even cobblestone. I have been here 3 times and have yet to see any of the cobblestones on this wreck.

At the chain Howard signaled up as he was pulling the anchor behind us and I slowly made my way up the line with Howard right below me. But not for long, he soon passed me like his shorts were on fire and was up on the boat and out of his suit by the time I arrived on deck. He apparently was cold and no man or woman was slowing his pursuit of a warm jacket and sunshine.

My computer registered 40F at 82fsw and as I stripped off my gear I was informed there had been a slight error….. we were not on the Cobblestone Wreck after all. We were on…… the Pinta…. Ooops…..long pieces of lumber in the sand, high intact walls…… yup…..they do this on purpose you know….it’s like a test or something.

As we made our way to the Cobblestone Wreck once again, the seas were beginning to lay down and we talked boats and fishing and one of us basked in the warmth of the sun coming though the cabin window proclaiming he felt like a “flower in the sun”. I gotta get out more…..We arrived at the Cobblestone Wreck and quickly tied in. While the cabin was 60F with the sun streaming in and I had remembered my hat and gloves, I was still a bit chilled and opted out of dive #2 while I was still comfortable and having a good day. Howard and Francis joined me and the others rolled off both port and starboard like mice abandoning ship.
Their dives were short, with reports of cooler water and lessening viz. None the less, Bob once again was last onboard and he was excited.

He had run right into a lobster and making a quick grab dropped him in his bag. But right after that…. He had fallen upon a fish…. A fish too big to let pass…. Slightly sluggish in the cold water and pinned against the wreckage our very own Rambo of the deep pulled out his trusty dive knife and while mentally plotting his move with grid by grid analysis, he did a Tarzan move and took this behemoth of a fish with a quick stab to the head. Holding him in place and swooping him into his goody bag he ascended the ladder onto the boat and tossed his prize catch on the deck.

He had managed to snag, with a clean stab to the head, a black fish weighing in at over 14lbs. (I poked him) Luckily Francis had his camera because you really had to see it to believe it. Good job Bob! After hearing about the cold and deteriorated visibility, I was not disappointed in my decision to pass on the dive and I wrapped myself in my blanket and snuggled in for the trip home and stories of boats and adventures and dives past.

We were soon at the dock and loaded up for home… lobsters, blackfish, sinkers and clams in tow, but not a single cobblestone…..I think they are a myth…..

The Dives I Didn't Make

We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch - we are going back from whence we came. ~ John F. Kennedy

I have had some tough weeks this year…… illness and injury keeping me dry. This week again I was destined to stay at the dock….or was I?

Maybe I couldn’t dive…. but I could mate. I packed up my box of tissues and headed for the dock. The sun was peeking out and there was the promise of sunshine and flat seas and I was getting out. One way or another.

As I arrived at the Lady GoDiver I was greeted by:

Captain Howard
Bart, and his new never been seen dry suit,
Harry and we will get to him later,
Stan the Popsicle Man and HIS DRYSUIT, 60F and he wasn’t diving wet, what’s up with that?
John, suave and debonair as ever
and Francis who valiantly tried to move me along to load my gear on board, only to learn I was the mate of the day, and pleasantly surprised at that.

The sun was shining and the day was already warming nicely as we headed out. Clearing the inlet we were met by gentle rolling swells and the promise of an enjoyable day on the water.

I knew that we would head for wrecks I had never visited but smiled as the discussion turned to which wreck to hit first. As usual I was befuddled and confused as suggestions were bantered about…..how about the one that used to be…no, not that one…..how about the one with no name over by….. no not that one….. how about the real Sea Girt Wreck, no to be confused with the one they call the Sea Girt Wreck, out past the other Sea Girt Wreck….. hmmmm we had a winner.

I finished my coffee as we lazily relaxed in the cabin catching up with one another and Howard and Harry told tales of past navigational trials and feats, including taking a row boat from Sandy Hook to Cape May. There was a voyage I was glad I wasn’t the first mate on.

We arrived at our destination and the anchor was dropped. Harry gave some lessons in knot tying and I still am practicing this grapevine knot he so diligently tied for us.

As mate, I helped with gloves and hoods and masks, checked tanks and hooked up inflator hoses. Got fins and clipped off lights and goody bags, paying back past times of assistance offered to me. Soon my boys were geared up and rolling off the gunwale as I handed down cameras and spear guns and waived “good bye…Luv you”…. And they were off, slipping beneath the clear cold water.

After putting the second wave of divers in the water, I waited on deck for their return as I knew the frigid water temps would keep these dives short. I mused how I stood here now in just a sweatshirt and last time out it was so cold on deck my mask froze on the inside. Soon my first group was back and I reached down pulling up goody bags laden with the days catch and treasures and spear guns and whatever else I could as the divers climbed back on board.

There were goodies to eat and others to contemplate and muse over. ¾ lb sinkers, what were they fishing for? And teeth marks from vicious scaled attack fish? There were lures and sinkers and pictures to share of the 25-30 foot viz. And cold cold hands from the 38F water. I broke open a package of hand warmers and put out a light snack….. after all, what are mates for?

We were soon all back onboard and sufficiently warmed and ready to choose the next dive site. Stan had been diligently poring over the maps and charts to no avail. After some discussion, information overload for me as usual, the Logwood was decided upon and we steamed ahead.

Arriving on target, the buoy was tossed, followed by the short discussion of the possibility that the wreck was deeper than the buoy line. No matter, short work was made of hooking the wreck and again divers geared up. One diver learned not to “hop” inside the cabin as he wriggled into his dry suit (low ceilings) and another skipped this dive as his regulator had some free flow problems on dive one and another contemplated how cold his hands had been fist time out….but it didn’t stop him from going down once more.

The dives were a tad shorter this time but more goodies arrived on deck. There was the lobster we accused of being short, but upon measuring he was more than legal….. and the goody bag laden with sinkers. More tales of good viz and cold water and how the winters currents had shifted the sands and uncovered a good portion of the wreck. There were lobsters with eggs and a dopey skate, and Stan graciously presented me with his “special” find which I will be cleaning up and setting on the mantle in a place of honor.

Everyone was soon back on deck and the anchor pulled and all that was left to do was collect our wandering buoy. No problem, Mate Cheryl at the helm.

There is some disagreement as to whether it was currents, my steering or Stan’s throttling that made us miss the buoy….. three times….. I can tell you the comments regarding how it would be dark in 7 hours didn’t help either…… (and it was Stan’s fault….but you didn’t hear that from me)
Soon we were clearing the inlet and backing into the slip. As we readied to unload the boat, in the corner of the deck laid a lone fish, speared earlier in the day ….. I hadn’t dived …… but what the heck….. you know it ……. I poked him .

I love diving.

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...