Humboldt Squid and Other Good Things

The Humboldt Squid (Dosidicus gigas), also known as Jumbo Squid, Jumbo Flying Squid, or Diablo Rojo (Red Devil), is a large, aggressive predatory squid found in the waters of the Humboldt Current in the Eastern Pacific Ocean. They are most commonly found at depths of 200-700 meters (600 to 2300 feet), from Tierra del Fuego to California. Recent findings suggest the range of this species is spreading north into the waters of Oregon, Washington, British Columbia and Alaska ~ Wikpedia

We got the best of the days this weekend for our New Years Dive. We held our breath and watched the weather reports and waited...... Morning arrived as did my ride. Time is a relative thing ....we weren’t late. That is a good thing. 9AM is a civilized time to set sail.

The parking lot at the Belmar Marina is in the midst of repair and refurbishing. Unfortunately some precious parking spaces have been lost to the beautification and improvement process. Take note for next year.

My first Jersey boat dive of this year was on the Stingray, so it is apropos that my last one should be. There were seven of us and the good Captain this morning, Mark and myself, Steve (SteveR), Ernie (theRookman), Bob (PIR8), Jeff, and Sean (Martini), ready for whatever was in store for us. There was some frost this morning, and the skies were a bit gray but the heater was roaring and the Scuba Gods smiled on us with near flat seas and occasional wide troughed roller. We were headed for the Northeast Sailor. This site was on my list of places to revisit since my dive there earlier in the season was cut short. These are all good things.

This wreck lies in 75 feet of water and is the remains of an unknown wooden sailing ship. The absence of towing bits is an indicator that this was probably not a schooner barge. Low lying wreckage remains along with a huge anchor pile and some machinery and boilers. Ernie had predicted 42F water with 15-20 foot viz. I contemplated the calm water and incoming tides as I geared up. My last dive of the year, I was hoping not to be disappointed. I rolled in and came up in a bit of current, swimming like crazy for the line at the back of the boat. Mark followed and we headed on down. There were chunks of particulate in the gray green water as we went down but light was filtering through and as the strobe on the chain came into view I smiled.

Mark tied off a reel and we set out to look about. There were a few issues with the reel and he wrestled with it as I looked about. I had my reel but he was determined and so we continued. We followed some ribs out and looked about and then poked around the chain pile looking in the dents and holes. While filled with swimmy guys, they were all rather small, some barely worth poking. I grabbed an occasional tail or two for fun as we moved along looking about. Steve passed by us with his spear gun in tow just as I spied a nice sized fish tucked into a hole in the chain. I looked up, ready to signal Steve with my light, but he was too far passed, so....................I poked it.

As we continued to look about the reel was still behaving badly and so we turned around to head on up. There was still the occasional starfish lying about, some rather large, and lots of shells and Ernie was wrong. While we had the 15-20 foot visibility, the water temperature was 44 F not 42F. That is a good thing.

On the surface there was no one to greet me at the ladder.....it was a wee bit cold topside and everyone was taking advantage of the heater and I managed a respectable climb up on my own before Ernie came out to help. My first time up this ladder this year I did not fair so well. It wasn’t pretty. As I end the year, I am getting better. And that too is a good thing. We snacked and traded stories on the surface interval. There were many lobster on this wreck but they were all small or females with eggs. The wreck is known for its deep holes and several large sets of claws were tucked waaay back. Unfortunately Bobs suit leaked, he looked like he jumped overboard without it and he was sitting the next dive out.

We headed for our next site, a new one for me, the Spring Lake Wreck, an unidentfied turtled schooner barge named for its proximity to the town of Spring Lake. A buoy had been left on the site from earlier in the year and Ernie went down the line to check things out as we got ready. Just before we were ready to splash in he appeared on the ladder ranting and raving and carrying on. Apparently there was quite the current on the bottom....and the visibility was only 5 feet......and it was cold.....and there were no fish....and the chain moved....and he had a hard time......and there were sharp bars crisscrossing the interior of the wreck..... There were some fish but that was the only redeeming quality of this wreck.... it was the worst dive of his life. Jeesh Ernie...tell us how you really feel.

The seas were picking up and we could see the promised foul weather coming in as we rolled over the side, with Jeff joining us Since Bob was remaining on top. The current was considerably stronger here as Ernie had mentioned and as I swam against it for the line I was having my doubts about making it. I could see me spending my projected 30 minute dive time kicking my heart out and swimming in place. We descended we had to watch for fish hooks caught on the line and unceremoniously arrived on the bottom. Not running a reel, we ran along the side of the wreck looking about and checking the wildlife hiding inside. The metal hull of this barge was slowly disintegrating and left many pieces having rusted and fallen to the sand below and the current was fairly strong so we stayed low to the sand as we moved about. As we swam along I suddenly spotted it. At first it looked odd and I couldn’t imagine what it was, it looked like long tentacles hanging below the ragged edge of the wreck, As we swam it moved down the line of the wreckage and Mark pointed so I knew he saw it too. Before I could move he stuck out his hand and grabbed for it. That’s my boy! I taught him well. We continued along peeking about but never encountered it again. We swam about and I poked at the occasional fish just inside the barge, and rescued two sinkers caught in the debris, and picked up my final shell for the year. While the water temp was just one degree colder we felt it and headed on up.

Our stop on the line was chilly but I took the time to consider the past year of diving and all that I saw and did, even on this last dive of the year. As we arrived on deck we quickly broke down our gear and headed into the warmth of the cabin.

I was telling Ernie about the tentacles we saw . I think it was a squid, maybe a Humboldt Squid, really, it could be. But I saw Mark shake his head. I guess he didn’t think it was a Humboldt, probably thought it was just a regular old Longfin Jersey Squid. Doesn’t matter.....it surely wasn’t just some algae, so it will forever remain in my mind as the giant squid on the Spring Lake Wreck.....this is a good thing....really.

We arrived back at the docks, safe and sound. Not the best of conditions. Not picture perfect dives. Jersey dives, typical Jersey dives....you know....the ones we all know and love. And that is a good thing.

New Jersey Museum of Maritime History

In anticipation of the Nor’easter a comin’...... we decided to visit the New Jersey Museum of Maritime History in Beach Haven, and I am very glad we did.
We spent a good part of the early afternoon browsing through the two floors of exhibits.

At the museums front entrance lies a huge anchor and chain, the possible weight of which we wondered out loud about as we climbed the steps to the front door. Upon entering the museum, you are immediately met by floor to ceiling exhibits covering all the walls and in cases and on tables everywhere you look.

I believe it is a 13 lb lobster that you immediately spy as you enter, and as much as I would love to claim victory over one of these monsters, I will admit, especially since things look measurably larger under water, I might.....just might now...not poke one of these. Awww ..... who am I kidding, I would probably be sorry, but I would do it.

To the right of the entrance is an antique Navy diving suit. The forerunner of today’s dry suits. There are lead weights covering the toes to keep you from having floaty feet. I have enough trouble climbing a boat ladder without lead weights on my feet that could kick a hole right through the boat. And just past that is a lighted display of hand painted slides of maritime themed pictures. They are absolutely intriguing.

As you walk down the hallway, it is lined with pictures and little comments on myriads of New Jersey wrecks hung in alphabetical order. To see these and be able to say, “Hey I dove on that one!“ makes your time here fly by.

From there you enter a large room with floor to ceiling pictures and antique postcards of local towns and follow their development into what they are today. I could not imagine trying to swim in some of the costumes displayed here.

In another room are more pictures of maritime rescues and local coastguard stations and storm devastation. While we were there a video was playing showing the local coastline being devastated by storms from the late twenties to the one in the sixties when “the ocean and the bay met” . There was some awesome footage on this video showing the power of these storms that have pounded our coastline with enough force that one time it beached a Navy battleship.

There is a huge display on the Morrow Castle catastrophe that brings a very personal side to the story to your mind and replaces the fact that you just knew that she burned and sank. From the beginning where they show you the poster advertising 10 and 20 day cruises for $200.00 and bills showing charges to rooms for 12 beers at a cost of $1.20, you look to see what other little treasures are among the hundreds of items spread before you. And then the story progresses to pictures of the fire and rescues. Showing the actual victims being pulled onto the beach while people try to revive them. Of children who have lost their entire family sitting with blank stares waiting for someone to claim them. It is a very powerful exhibit.

You then wind your way upstairs where you are greeted by a library of maritime reference books, a lending library and computer data base. There are several areas to sit and browse with tables and chairs, desks and a conversations pit of comfy stuffed furniture.

As you walk along up here you still have to remember to look up as things are everywhere. There are so many portholes on display that you find it hard to believe there are any left in the ocean. If you have never been lucky enough to find your own, you come away with a respect for how heavy these are and how thick the glass in them is
There is a display on the Andrea Doria and on this visit a video documentary on the sinking was playing. There are personal items and china and several cases of artifacts as your read your way along the display. Attached to the walls and ceiling are lights and bells and pieces of various ships, many of which are on loan from divers and local people through out the state.

There are display cases with recovered artifacts from dozens of wrecks and displays of antique navigational tools and even a cannon. Antique logs of shipwrecks and letters and articles and personal pictures that bring the history to life. Just a never ending display.

In one small alcove is display of the submarine S-5 which was visited by a group of local divers this summer. Center of the display is the recovered coffee urn from the mess room of the sub. I could not imagine swimming out of that sub dragging this piece behind me.

There is another room dedicated to local wildlife and displays of different shells and several areas where you can see they are still a work in progress. The building has been lovingly restored and the huge amounts of natural light make walking through a pleasure. The displays are varied from sea life to local history and covering rescues and diving. Admittance is free and donations are accepted. I am positive you can revisit this place several times and still find something new or something you missed every time. I know I will be back.

http://www.museumofnjmh.com/photographs.html The pictures are from the website, visit it to see more and visit the museum to see it all.

The Locomotives and the Macedonia

I could never stay long enough on the shore. The tang of the untainted, fresh and free sea air. Was like a cool, quieting thought, and the shells and pebbles and the seaweed with tiny living creatures attached to it never lost their fascination for me. ~Helen Keller

My friends and family think I am crazy.....it doesn’t help when they ask where I am going...and I say diving....but its winter, what are you going to see?...choo choo trains.... Sometimes diving is hard to explain.

Sometime in the 1850’s, two small locomotives fell into the Atlantic Ocean and landed side by side, about 7 feet apart, upright, in 85 feet of water. They remain upright instead of sinking into the sand because there is a stone ledge not far below the sand forming a solid platform beneath these engines. And there is a Federal Court Order of Protection on these trains and no artifacts may be taken nor is any damaging of the trains allowed. You tie into a sand spike between the two instead of onto their wreckage and diving this with two members of the New Jersey Historical Society gives you some additional insight into the site and the plans to retrieve the trains.

As we readied to dive, Rich G. rolled over first to tie us in. His theory was that with the site being so small there would only be one fish worth taking on the wreck and he was going to get it.

Josh and I readied to follow him. As I geared up Ernie mentioned that other divers referred to me as “Flash“ due to my lightening speed. It is good to be recognized and know some people appreciate me. I did have usual my blonde moments, but must mention that I did have help this time. The gauntlet of my new 5ml gloves does not easily fit over my dry suit arms and I asked for some assistance. Ernie had to call in reinforcements and with Howard braced against the benches with my arm against him and Ernie pushing on the gloves they finally managed to get a recognizable imitation of the gloves on my hands, although they did mention that I might not want to try and run a reel or anything with them on. They then sat me on the gunwale and I rolled over...into the water....and couldn’t kick myself upright.....without fins.... We had worked so hard on the gloves, no one noticed. I climbed back aboard and was assisted into them and rolled in again.

The seas were flat and we dropped down and passed Rich on the line, both times down. About half way down the line Joshes suit started to flood and we surfaced to adjust his zipper before continuing to the bottom and about 20 foot of viz.

While much of the wooden structure of the engineers cabin has rotted away, and the salvageable hardware and the brass has long been removed, as you come upon this unusual sight there is no mistaking that they are trains. While encrusted in a thick growth of barnacles, hydras and anemones, they form a natural encasement of the engine, boilers, wheels and stacks of the engines and a definite outline of a train.

After a swim around each engine you have seen the entire sight. The six spoked wheels still fully intact in the special 2-2-2 (o0o) design of these engines which are center of the wreckage. The boilers and smoke stacks above. The doors to the engine furnaces encrusted over in sea life.

The rear of the engines have the most enormous anemones I have seen. They are impressive and we swam a second circuit to check out the locals. Towards the rear of the engine, just above the last wheel, the wooden cabin is no longer there allowing you to see through to the other side. And sitting in this space, framed by the rest of the engine sat an enormous blackfish, close to 3 feet long. Just hanging out. Josh and I looked at each other, I could not imagine what Rich had speared if he left this guy behind.

We moved on up to the front where the cow catcher grate would be and as we approached, I saw it. It was just a tail and it stuck out about 2 foot, but it was big around and I headed straight for it. I peeked inside and this eel ran the whole width of the train inside and with his head in and his tail out....he begged to be poked. My hand went out and like a shot Josh grabbed it and gave me the international sign for “No Cheryl, we don’t poke these, choose something else.” And he nudged me along just to be sure. For a small site it had some mighty big inhabitants.

We moved on to the second engine and as we poked around we came across two nice sized blackfish in the 5lb range hiding between the spokes of the wheel and the side of the boiler. I swear the one played dead. He just laid on his side and didn’t move like “oops, you don’t want this one...move along“. I took my flashlight and clocked him right on the head. Apparently I didn’t hit him hard enough because as I grabbed him to pull him out he came to and wiggled out of my grasp and wedged himself farther inside the wreckage and out of my reach. I was “thiiis” close.

One more quick look around and up we went, heading right for the heated cabin and a snack. Rich had not gotten a goliath black fish, his reputation as a hunter must have preceded him and the big fish hid in fear while he was there.

Our second dive was to be the Macedonia, a 280 foot freighter sunk in June of 1899 in a collision with the ocean liner Hamilton, in 60 feet of water. It was rammed so hard by the Hamilton that she was wedged 12 feet into the freighter and most of the crew jumped onto the deck of the Hamilton before she broke free and left a gash so huge the freighter sank in half an hour. The Macedonia was owned by the Ward Lines. Sound familiar? She was part of the same fleet as the Mohawk, the second Mohawk, the Morro Castle, the Havana, the Algonquin, the City of Washington......

There was a bit of a surface current here and Ernie tied us in. I was using my new regs and computer for the first time and they were working out well for me, I switched to my trusty 3ml gloves, kitted up and reclaimed my title of Flash as Josh and I splashed in. There was a slight current at depth here and the visibility was about 10 feet with water temps around 48F.

This is really a sweet wreck. All you guys who pass up the chance to dive it because it is only 60 feet deep really are missing out. This is a huge contiguous debris field with impressive boilers and two propellers and all kinds of goodies.

Josh ran a line as we found ourselves jumping back and forth over hull plates looking about. The debris is covered in the usual sea life and there were a large assortment of blackfish begging to be poked with a spear and not a finger. I believe Howard accommodated them. Tucked in among the regular wreckage were several anchors, lost by unwitting fishermen, and a sinker garden where I stopped to harvest a few while Josh adjusted the reel. This is a wreck I could go back to.

Not a bad day on the water........Thank you Captain Howard, well done.....And Ernie great history lesson on the Locomotives....and Rich great suggestion of the Macedonia.....and Josh, my younger better looking dive buddy (his description by the way) (you better duck when you see Mark)we had fun. I will have to do this again.

The Locomotives and the Macedonia

I could never stay long enough on the shore. The tang of the untainted, fresh and free sea air. Was like a cool, quieting thought, and the shells and pebbles and the seaweed with tiny living creatures attached to it never lost their fascination for me. ~Helen Keller

My friends and family think I am crazy.....it doesn’t help when they ask where I am going...and I say diving....but its winter, what are you going to see?...choo choo trains.... Sometimes diving is hard to explain.

Sometime in the 1850’s, two small locomotives fell into the Atlantic Ocean and landed side by side, about 7 feet apart, upright, in 85 feet of water. They remain upright instead of sinking into the sand because there is a stone ledge not far below the sand forming a solid platform beneath these engines. And there is a Federal Court Order of Protection on these trains and no artifacts may be taken nor is any damaging of the trains allowed. You tie into a sand spike between the two instead of onto their wreckage and diving this with two members of the New Jersey Historical Society gives you some additional insight into the site and the plans to retrieve the trains.

As we readied to dive, Rich G. rolled over first to tie us in. His theory was that with the site being so small there would only be one fish worth taking on the wreck and he was going to get it.

Josh and I readied to follow him. As I geared up Ernie mentioned that other divers referred to me as “Flash“ due to my lightening speed. It is good to be recognized and know some people appreciate me. I did have usual my blonde moments, but must mention that I did have help this time. The gauntlet of my new 5ml gloves does not easily fit over my dry suit arms and I asked for some assistance. Ernie had to call in reinforcements and with Howard braced against the benches with my arm against him and Ernie pushing on the gloves they finally managed to get a recognizable imitation of the gloves on my hands, although they did mention that I might not want to try and run a reel or anything with them on. They then sat me on the gunwale and I rolled over...into the water....and couldn’t kick myself upright.....without fins.... We had worked so hard on the gloves, no one noticed. I climbed back aboard and was assisted into them and rolled in again.

The seas were flat and we dropped down and passed Rich on the line, both times down. About half way down the line Joshes suit started to flood and we surfaced to adjust his zipper before continuing to the bottom and about 20 foot of viz.

While much of the wooden structure of the engineers cabin has rotted away, and the salvageable hardware and the brass has long been removed, as you come upon this unusual sight there is no mistaking that they are trains. While encrusted in a thick growth of barnacles, hydras and anemones, they form a natural encasement of the engine, boilers, wheels and stacks of the engines and a definite outline of a train.

After a swim around each engine you have seen the entire sight. The six spoked wheels still fully intact in the special 2-2-2 (o0o) design of these engines which are center of the wreckage. The boilers and smoke stacks above. The doors to the engine furnaces encrusted over in sea life.

The rear of the engines have the most enormous anemones I have seen. They are impressive and we swam a second circuit to check out the locals. Towards the rear of the engine, just above the last wheel, the wooden cabin is no longer there allowing you to see through to the other side. And sitting in this space, framed by the rest of the engine sat an enormous blackfish, close to 3 feet long. Just hanging out. Josh and I looked at each other, I could not imagine what Rich had speared if he left this guy behind.

We moved on up to the front where the cow catcher grate would be and as we approached, I saw it. It was just a tail and it stuck out about 2 foot, but it was big around and I headed straight for it. I peeked inside and this eel ran the whole width of the train inside and with his head in and his tail out....he begged to be poked. My hand went out and like a shot Josh grabbed it and gave me the international sign for “No Cheryl, we don’t poke these, choose something else.” And he nudged me along just to be sure. For a small site it had some mighty big inhabitants.

We moved on to the second engine and as we poked around we came across two nice sized blackfish in the 5lb range hiding between the spokes of the wheel and the side of the boiler. I swear the one played dead. He just laid on his side and didn’t move like “oops, you don’t want this one...move along“. I took my flashlight and clocked him right on the head. Apparently I didn’t hit him hard enough because as I grabbed him to pull him out he came to and wiggled out of my grasp and wedged himself farther inside the wreckage and out of my reach. I was “thiiis” close.

One more quick look around and up we went, heading right for the heated cabin and a snack. Rich had not gotten a goliath black fish, his reputation as a hunter must have preceded him and the big fish hid in fear while he was there.

Our second dive was to be the Macedonia, a 280 foot freighter sunk in June of 1899 in a collision with the ocean liner Hamilton, in 60 feet of water. It was rammed so hard by the Hamilton that she was wedged 12 feet into the freighter and most of the crew jumped onto the deck of the Hamilton before she broke free and left a gash so huge the freighter sank in half an hour. The Macedonia was owned by the Ward Lines. Sound familiar? She was part of the same fleet as the Mohawk, the second Mohawk, the Morro Castle, the Havana, the Algonquin, the City of Washington......

There was a bit of a surface current here and Ernie tied us in. I was using my new regs and computer for the first time and they were working out well for me, I switched to my trusty 3ml gloves, kitted up and reclaimed my title of Flash as Josh and I splashed in. There was a slight current at depth here and the visibility was about 10 feet with water temps around 48F.

This is really a sweet wreck. All you guys who pass up the chance to dive it because it is only 60 feet deep really are missing out. This is a huge contiguous debris field with impressive boilers and two propellers and all kinds of goodies.

Josh ran a line as we found ourselves jumping back and forth over hull plates looking about. The debris is covered in the usual sea life and there were a large assortment of blackfish begging to be poked with a spear and not a finger. I believe Howard accommodated them. Tucked in among the regular wreckage were several anchors, lost by unwitting fishermen, and a sinker garden where I stopped to harvest a few while Josh adjusted the reel. This is a wreck I could go back to.

Not a bad day on the water........Thank you Captain Howard, well done.....And Ernie great history lesson on the Locomotives....and Rich great suggestion of the Macedonia.....and Josh, my younger better looking dive buddy (his description by the way) (you better duck when you see Mark)we had fun. I will have to do this again.

Does my SAC Rate Really Matter?

This SAC rate thing.....could it be over rated?

When I first started diving, I was diligent about writing down numbers, exact numbers, starting tank PSI and ending PSI and bottom time and hang time and then dividing and multiplying and dividing again and then factoring in depth and gear and currents and water temps and then taking into consideration the phase of the moon, the icecream flavor of the month and the price of tea in China.... I would have an exacting SAC rate which I would double check against the online SAC calculator. I still have a multifunction Scientific Texas Instrument calculator in the bottom of my dive bag because of this.

What I found was:
1. I didnt have a bad SAC rate
2. I didnt know any other girl divers to compare my rate to
3. All the guy divers I knew had higher SAC rates
4. Everyone knew girls have better SAC rates than guys and
5. No one cared what my SAC rate was.

I also found that for the diving I was doing.....my SAC rate really didn’t matter in terms of gas management. I was running out of NDL before gas, even with nitrox.

My dive planning was always around run times and NDL and my gas always more than sufficient. Life was good. I went to the bottom, poked the fish, saw the sights, came up and had gas to spare.

I logged my bottom time, my depths and kept up on my weighting, which I still struggle with. Noted what there was to see, which wrecks were best for the lobsters and where the mussels were. But starting and ending PSI slowly gave way to the variety of fish to poke and what was scattered about in the way of debris to put the ship whole again in my minds eye and unusual events. Which conditions of depth, temperature and visibility put the boogeyman at the end of the line and how I dealt with it. Boat ladders, crew and dive buddies. All details.

I always check my starting pressure when I set up my gear, I always check my PSI as I dive, and use it as a gauge of when to stop sightseeing and start back, and I always get back onboard with gas to spare. But I stopped tracking the actual numbers at some point.

Now, I am being called on the carpet for my laxness. I am looking towards doubles and when discussing it with my dive buddy I have been given a list of considerations to take into account as I move forward. My biggest considerations are weight and maneuverability. If I cant carry it, I do not think I should be diving it. So the big question comes down to size. HP 100’s, LP 85’s, or even 74’s are in the running. Hmmmmmm, how do I decide. Apparently, according to “someone”, gas management answers this question.

So, I consider what I want to dive, where I want to dive and how I want to dive it. I then consider how often that will happen.

For the immediate time being I will be diving the recreational limits and upsetting my computer with occasional 10-15 minute deco obligations. Soon...heliox and some of the deeper and more interesting things just outside my door. After that and some experience....advanced deco and more bottom time and a little deeper.....I just am not limited ever.......how do you plan for what you just cannot imagine.

There are so many things out there to see. More than enough under 100 ft to keep me busy the rest of my life, I am sure. But the history draws me. And the stories. And so many of them are right there, right out my back door, and just a little bit deeper than I should go right now. The big boy wrecks out by the canyon and the mudhole.... where the artifacts are found, the scallops are laying about, the big fish swim. The stories of the S-5 and the Texas Towers. I want to dive a submarine, the towers, a wreck with portholes still intact, see where the big fish swim and the octopus live, watch sea lions and dolphins play, see a wreck that hasn’t been dragged by the Coast Guard and pounded by the weather, do a dredging dive and a numbers run and discover something totally new. The things to see and the fish to poke........more than I can imagine....how do you finalize a list like this?

So what is the next question? How big a tank do you need? How do I find this out? Using math and my SAC rate. Jeesh!!!

Does my SAC rate really matter? Get out my trusty calculator and a pencil, then run the dives on V-planner and then figure that if I see a really big shark, or a whale, or I am dragging 100 scallops stuffed in my goody bag and my pockets that my SAC rate is out the window anyway. And in an emergency situation I think my condition would be more than “my heart is all aflutter” ...... so.....

Does my SAC rate really matter or should I figure my tank size on the average for where I want to dive and a little measure of added safety for me and my air hogging buddy. It troubles him that I dont track my air consumption. He cant see how I can choose my tanks without it. I cant see how I can limit myself with all there is out there.

I have no problem admitting...there is so much I dont know, have not seen, cannot imagine...and I promise to keep better track of my air consumption.....but in the end, does my SAC rate define the future of my diving or do I plan my dive around the moment. This wreck..... in these conditions...... using this set of tanks and equipment.....I can visit this long. I think doing the math is a guy thing.

Barnegat Ridges

It was cold this morning….O Dark Thirty…. and cold enough to wear my drysuit under roos to the boat. I had to drive myself to the marina…what is up with that? It was still dark out. What was I thinking? I could be home all snuggled in bed. I was thinking that we were getting some great dive days in and I didn’t want to miss them, that’s what.
I was heading for the Lady Godiver and diving with a group of friends - Jim, Steve, Jack, Bart, Ernie and Howard. An interesting day of diving and company. The seas were moving this morning with rolling swells in the 2-4 foot range and the sun came out shining. Not a bad day so far.
As we headed out past Barnegat Light we could see the remains of the scalloping boat that had grounded and fell over. Just lying there on its side on the shoal. It has been there a good part of a week and we wondered what would become of it. We wondered if you could dive it, we are divers, that is what we do. And we wondered if it was salvageable and when it would be moved too.
We headed out to the Gulftrade, but it had a fishing boat sitting on it so we headed to the Sea Hag, which was also occupied and finally on to the South Ridge. The South Ridge is an unnamed unidentified wooden wreck, located on the Barnegat Ridge, that is quite broken down but goes on and on.
Two tries to hook in and the Captain was not feeling the love. I believe, at one point, I heard the boat was going up for sale as soon as we got back. We got pulled off the wreck twice by errant swells and he ordered a shot line dropped. In minutes we were tied in and ready to go.
I was buddying up with Ernie for this dive and it was the first time for both of us on this site, so down the line we went not knowing what to expect. We arrived at the sand at 80fsw and much to our delight we had 64F water temperatures and 30 foot of visibility. Woo Hoo!
Ernie tied in his reel and checked out a hole with fresh dark sand in front. You know there is always a lobster at the tie in…but alas we were not the first ones down and it was empty. We moved on peeking all around and did not see anymore lobster but we did find lots of other friends to play with. The sea bass and black fish and blue fish were plentiful and big, really big. They were swimming over and in among the wreckage. Each time we came to the end of a piece of wreckage we could see the next piece and headed out to it. There were some scattered starfish and moonsnails and each time we moved to a piece of wreckage we came across piles of fluke stacked one on top of the other in the sand and they were huge. They just layed there, I am sure thinking “Ha! Ha! Out of season…you loose” But…… I poked them anyway, poking is still in season. Since there were no lobsters to hunt, Ernie got into the fun of things and started poking them himself. Another convert….you are all coming over…don’t fight it.
I had one rather large guy just buried in the sand looking at me with both eyes (that both eyes on the same side of the head thing takes some getting used to) and I opened my catch bag to see if I could get him to just scoot on in. I knew I couldn’t keep him but it would have made one heck of a story. I juuuust missed him. You know I will be trying this again, it’s like a challenge now, Coe-Ed Fluke Wrestling Diving …hmmmm.
It was time to turn and we headed back in, stopping at section of planking making a shallow cavern for the local sea life. Ernie was on one side and I peeked in on the other. In between the boards Ernie spotted a large spade fish and scooted it over for me to see. Upon seeing this fish I immediately poked him back towards Ernie so he could see him. We ended up playing water hockey with this poor fish for several minutes before he got pissed and swam off in another direction.
Back at the line we headed up and as I looked at my computer I had 5 minutes of deco and for the Iife of me couldn’t figure out why. As I hung on the line it came to me….I had forgotten to enter my nitrox mix into the computer before going in. Oh well, 2 more minutes of hang wasn’t necessary but wasn’t going to kill me.
As I arrived on deck, Howard was getting ready to go in. With all the talk of clear warm water and big fish everywhere, he had to go down and see for himself.
We had an enjoyable surface interval and regaled each other with stories of the dive and other subjects. We didn’t talk about Mark. He shouldn’t miss dives. And soon Howard was back on board with his catch bag bulging. He had definitely shot the biggest sea bass of the day, it was huge. And he was smiling and all was right with the world again. The boat was no longer for sale. It is amazing what ills a good dive can cure.
We could have stayed here for a second dive but it was getting late and we headed for the East Ridge on the way in.
The sun was shining and the seas had laid down some, life was good. We arrived on the site and dropped the line in and the pool was open. This wreck is identical to the last in that it is broken down and unidentified and lying on the Barnegat Ridge, but sits at 90fsw.
We dropped over the side and went on down, this time I was to run the reel. The day before we were talking about reels and I had mentioned how mine was temperamental and I had just run it the dive before, determined to find the problem and fix it or buy a new reel. Of course the reel had operated flawlessly and of course upon hitting the sand, I had not pulled out 3 inches of line before it jammed. Big time jam. I ended up cutting about 6 or feet of line off before clearing it and after tying it in we moved out. The visibility was cloudier on this site and there was a bit of a current on the bottom. I spent a good part of the dive staring at my reel while Ernie jammed his arm in holes everywhere after lobster. There were many fewer fish here but each hole had someone home. Most you could see were shorts but the first one he pulled out was over 3 lbs and had probably another pound of eggs, so back she went. And she was pissed! Most crustaceans her size didn’t get that big by being stupid and would have been back, way back, in their hole in a heart beat. This one just stood there brandishing her claws and snapping away, I swear she tried to jump up and get me as I swam over her. Never under estimate a womans scorn. As we moved along Ernie managed to grab two more in the 2-3 lb range but they were also with eggs and went on back. The rest were shorties and at one point he found one really tiny bugger (pun intended) so small it was hiding in a clam shell.
It was just about time to turn around when we saw the blinking of the strobe on the line. We had made a huge circle, but still had to wind the line back in, and so headed on back. My reel had worked flawlessly out and back…so frustrating. At the tie in we headed up and at about 5 foot up the line my computer blinked and gave me deco time again….this time 15 minutes! Ernie kept shaking his head, he was still well within his limits…what was up with mine?
Ernie hung with me for most of the time and he was running low on air and headed up as I finished my time out. Now I know why guys with planned deco bring toys with them…how boring. I got onboard and we waited for the last of the other divers to come up before we headed on in.
A few more lobster came up this dive but everyone reported pulling out several females laden with eggs. What is up with that? Was this a wreck for wayward lobster? All single mothers? Abandoned after a night of lobster whoopee? Where were the guys!!! They should be boiled and soaked in drawn butter!!! Ahh….
A nice relaxing ride in … a few laughs…. 2 lbs of peanut butter pretzels… Think I might have to do this diving thing again.

My Bob

I found my “Bob” #3053 in February of 2007 on Alhambra Beach, Venice Beach, Florida……. "Bobs" are numbered cement shark teeth that are planted around Venice Beach to keep divers interested in searching for shark teeth and possibly finding that one real meg.
The Story....
There is a gentleman in Venice Beach Fl. who makes these fake shark's teeth...His name is Bob, and he is as much a legend in VB as dive operators think he is a menace (unsuspecting noobs bring their "Bobs" to the dive shop thinking they found the mother load of a tooth - for Bobs that are black, or black and grey)
Bob's wife won't let him make them just anywhere in the house... He is relegated to the bathroom (Hence... Water Closet Productions)
Periodically through the year, Bob will make dives at VB and seed the bottom with his "Bobs", or he may just place one on the entrance signage to the beach.
Finding one (they can be pretty heavy) is a pain. You have to carry it around for the rest of the dive... most people don't carry a bag big enough to fit a Bob...
It's all very humorous, and most of us appreciate the man, the legend ... The Bob!

As told by ~ Cooltech

My Bob

I found my “Bob” #3053 in February of 2007 on Alhambra Beach, Venice Beach, Florida……."Bobs" are cement fake shark teeth which are sometimes painted like a dive flag and are numbered on the back....the gentleman who makes them places them around Venince Beach to keep divers interested in diving the area and looking for that one real meg sharks tooth.

There is a gentleman in Venice Beach Fl. who makes these fake shark's teeth...His name is Bob, and he is as much a legend in VB as dive operators think he is a menace (unsuspecting noobs bring their "Bobs" to the dive shop thinking they found the mother load of a tooth - for Bobs that are black, or black and grey)
Bob's wife won't let him make them just anywhere in the house... He is relegated to the bathroom (Hence... Water Closet Productions)
Periodically through the year, Bob will make dives at VB and seed the bottom with his "Bobs", or he may just place one on the entrance signage to the beach.
Finding one (they can be pretty heavy) is a pain. You have to carry it around for the rest of the dive... most people don't carry a bag big enough to fit a Bob...
It's all very humorous, and most of us appreciate the man, the legend ... The Bob!

As told by ~ Cooltech

.

Shark River Inlet

Ocean: A body of water occupying about two-thirds of a world made for man - who has no gills ~ Ambrose Bierce

I have been wanting to dive the Shark River Inlet for some time...it is right in my back yard, and I have been diving all around it...but something has always come up and I just never got to dive there ... until now.
Last night, in the middle of the night, Josh, Tom and I dropped in to see what was up. High tide was at 10:30pm and I wanted to try an MK25 reg set out so we met early and moved my hoses and mouth piece on over to one and then set out for the inlet. Josh just bought the same regulator and was diving it for the first time so we would get to compare notes.
They wanted to go in on the ocean side and this required a climb down the rocks, not a natural rock stairway, but up over and around wet slimy boulders in the dark. I made it down and got in the water and found myself wedged and straddling an underwater boulder. This actually worked out as I wasn’t going anywhere with the current and could put on my gloves and mask and make last minute adjustments with no worries with the current. Unfortunately it did not work as well for putting on fins and I struggled for a minute extracting myself from my perch to find a better spot to get on my fins. Ready and we dropped on down.
The water was unbelievably clear and while I do not have a canister light, like my dive buddies, my light worked just great and things came to life. We were swimming against the current on the way out and I hugged the rocks for some relief as I looked about, taking an occasional fin to the head from Tom if he stopped short.
First thing we came across on the bottom was a beautiful red and white sea robbin about 18 inches long just hanging about and upon a slight poke from someone who shall remain nameless, it scurried off in a tiff. We then immediately came across several flounder, winter flounder, fluke, sundials.... We discussed this at length later in the evening and honestly think there was one of everything there... But anyway after sending one or two on their way I just reached out and grabbed one. Yes.... grabbed it and now I had this fish firmly locked in both hands and no idea what to do... No goody bag and they are out of season anyway, but still, Tom and Josh’s lights are on me and we are all just smiling into our regs. I let him go and he took off like a shot.
We checked in and about on the rocks and there were several small crabs and three or four short lobsters. Josh began waving his light and we went to see what he found. It was an enormous shrimp out in the sand all by himself. We kind of encircled him like a wagon train and watched him for a minute before he jumped up on top of my hand (he was longer than my hand is wide, and then he took off and we were on our way.
There were small crabs out looking for dinner and larger crabs nestled in the cracks and crevices and the rocks were covered in different sponges and other life making for a colorful trip out and with a signal from Josh we turned to go back. We encountered the same assortment of sealife on the way back but since we were not fighting the current as hard we spent some additional time in the sand looking about. We passed over a large american eel just swimming about and grabbed at several more too small lobsters as we headed in.
It was time to go up and as we surfaced, one quick look up at the rocks reminded me why it was so much nicer in the water. It was a mountain goat climb up the rocks to the shore and then, of course, UP a set of stairs to the street and our cars. And one quick look down just made me shake my head, after carefully wiping and lubing the o-ring, I had flooded yet one more light.
As we broke down our gear we talked about the dive, divers never gossip so we surely didn’t talk about anyone else, we discussed past dives and sights and of course....we compared notes on the MK25 regulators.
Josh and I both agreed that they breathed very dry , I especially noticed it since I normally use the Sherwood Oasis which retains and re-circulates moisture. It obviously works because the difference was noticeable. Josh was not comfortable with the mouth piece, he thought it was short and made his jaw tired trying to hold on and will replace his. I was using my familiar mouthpiece which is longer but did notice the difference in shape from my Sherwood which is oval shaped and the MK25 is more round. While I find the oval shape to be more comfortable I think I will just have to get used to the feeling of the rounder , which actually takes a little more effort to retain, as that seems to be the shape of all the other regulators. Both Josh and I never moved the valve from surface to underwater position when we descended. My 5ml gloves just don’t allow me any fine motor dexterity. But they still breathed very smoothly. I will have to think on this a bit but it is not a bad regulator overall. And the Shark River is not a bad dive either.

Diving With Frnak

I did not have a fun Saturday and I hadn’t been wet since Ernie and I tried to swim to Indiana, so I went to Dutch Springs on Sunday….we had a mission.
I left at O’Dark Thirty….does this ever end? Only this time it was 29 F. For those of you that slept in….that means Hot Dang it was cold and dark! Somewhere on Rt 78E I asked myself “are we having fun yet?” I must be crazy….
I arrived at Dutch and met Nick, Terry and Frnak for a day of diving…we had a “mission” and they weren’t telling…. Loose lips sink ships…..but they had a crowbar, hammer and chisel all attached to double enders. Some serious stuff.
Nick made the rounds like a greeter at Walmart, stopping to say hi to everyone while we unloaded our gear... It was now 35F, warming up nicely….Ernie stopped by while his tech class was getting organized…he worked these guys to the bone by the way, they were the last ones off the peninsula that night.
Anyway, back to me…I was buddied with Nick and our plan was to complete “phase one” of the “mission” without silting up the bottom and then Nick and I were going to go to the old airplane while Terry and Frnak completed the mission.
I think the other two got lost cause we got there first and that never happens with Frnak the Olympic swimmer. Either way I hovered flawlessly and was not responsible for the less than optimal visibility….we were soon on our way and as usual my directional and spatial skills are a work in progress…while I remember all the stuff I saw, I have no idea where I was. We saw 2 cars, a big boat, the big tree, the telephone pole that is laying in the silt and the one standing up with the signs, tanker, crane, trolley, toilet bowl and the kitchen sink, and of course the old airplane that was replaced with a newer version.
We had 10-20 foot vis and the zebra mussels all had their tongues out and I spent some time trying to catch one, The. water temps were in the 50’s and there was a decidedly abrupt thermo cline. As we approached the airplane we passed the big tree and the thermo cline hung almost exactly mid tree in thick cloudy layers making this lone huge tree look eerie, like something out of a movie. I only saw 2 fish this dive and I thought it odd, but the water is cooling off….
We arrived back at the dock after 50 minutes of leisurely swimming with gas to spare. Frnak and Terry came in after 80 minutes, “mission” accomplished, and we had our usual leisurely surface interval.
Nick had to leave and I buddied with Frnak and Terry for the second dive. This was planned as a leisurely stroll to the wall and in we went. It must have been low tide as there were layers of crumbly rock exposed directly in front of the docks and it was a long walk down. After picking my way down hill and into the water we readied to sightsee.
We had a great dive, Frnak went nice and slow and we took in all the scenery. There were more fish this time several large ones and some small ones also. One large bass tried hiding in the weeds and Terry had a good time outing him. Later as we hit the big boat on our way in I showed my lack of directional skills as I had no idea where we were and was getting low on air. Frnak pulled out his octo and waved it in front of me. We were only about 30 yards from shore and swam on over. There my AAD kicked in as I forgot I was low on air and started to chase two huge yellow koi before I came back to complete my hang under the docks.
Maybe the dives were not exciting enough to warrant a trip report…. But the company was stellar. And that is part of what diving is all about. Enjoying seeing everyone on the peninsula and diving with the boys. Oh…and if you haven’t figured out what the “mission” was yet…don’t feel bad, neither have I.
Frnak says we went here for dive 2:
Descended west side of peninsula. Followed heading 145 degrees to crane and island. Crossed over island to south side. Follow rocky edge to beer can pointing to a fallen electric pole (RFL). From the electric pole we followed heading 150 degrees to a small ridge. On the ridge there were things that looked like sawhorses. There were also long pieces of hose scattered about. We continued on 150. We crossed a road and reached the southwall. On the south wall we ascended to 15 ft. to the old plane. While ascending on the south wall we noticed that the wall was completely striped of all plant life. We wondered how could this happen. And Why?
We left the plane and descended to 65ft. From there we followed heading 345 degrees to the tanker. We continued on 345 to east tip of island. From there it was 355 to Silver Comet and home. now I am tired....it was not such a relaxing dive after all...it was far.
How do you remember all that? I just remember the fish....and one really long piece of hose...and the fish.