- Messages
- 17,334
- Reaction score
- 13,744
- # of dives
- 100 - 199
Today I couldn't resist the urge anymore. After some pretty cold winter months, the outside temps here have risen to the melting point of water, and I've been pacing the floor wanting to get into the water again. Sure, diving in seriously sub-zero temps ain't that bad, cause the water is bearable with enough padding under the drysuit. Doffing the gear, however... Don't you just hate it when the laces on your rockboots have frozen solid, and you can't for your life manage to untie them? Well, I do. After one of those experiences, I decided that I prefer to dive when the air temp ain't too far below zero.
Now, since it was almost spring and quite mild and nice, I decided to try my new wet gloves. You see, I try to take pictures down there, and operating a small compact camera housing with buttons clearly made for tropical water temperatures and non-gloved, nimble and narrow ladies' fingers while you're wearing 6mm three-finger mittens is... challenging. So, I went and bought myself a pair of five-finger gloves. No, not wet gloves. Semi-dry. As if that made a difference. Hah. Yes, I can hear you. Dry gloves, you say. Sure, 'cept my suit has neoprene cuffs. If you know of any dry gloves that work with neoprene cuffs, please let me know.
But I digress. Back to this morning. The weather is nice. Remarkably nice, since yesterday we had the mother of all winter storms. Or maybe the grandmother. Ferries harbored, mountain roads closed, the works. But today, only a light breeze and even a small patch of blue sky. So, we pack up, me and Jr. And wifey (yes, dear, I love you!), gently shanghaied to count bubbles and wait patiently in the nice zero degree snowfall until we surface and give the "we're OK, don't call 112*)" sign. So, we drive down and dress up. Me, I put on my new, very smooth, very elastic, nice 5-finger gloves. Semi-dry, remember? And it's really nice to not try to operate stuff with mittens. Until we get in the water. Sure, it's cold at the surface. And those gloves are... not-even-semi dry. But let's just get beneath the thermocline, and it's gonna be real toasty, right? Wrong. Did I mention we had a storm yesterday? Well, there was no friggin' thermocline. At 18m, it's one. frickin'. degree. warmer. than on the surface. And my semi-dry gloves are definitely more semi than dry.
After half an hour, I can't feel my fingers any more. I know they're supposed to be there, I can even see them. I assume it's some kind of hallucination. We ascend to the safety stop, where I decide to practice shooting my DSMB, which I bought last fall and have shot only once before. With... not very convincing results. I manage to unpack it from the small pouch, but I just can't clip the d*mned pouch to my BCD. My fingers sort of won't listen to me. D*mned fingers. I give the pouch to Jr. and manage to shoot the DSMB in a slightly less unconvincing manner than the first time. Yay! Good work! We surface, inflate our BCDs, give the OK sign to wifey who's sitting patiently on the quay (yes, dear, I really love you!) and paddle to the shore. As we stagger up, I tell Jr. to get into the water again. I'm sure I've left my fingers somewhere out there, would you do your old dad a service and go look for them?
He won't. I wonder - again - what's the matter with today's youth. But, after taking off my nice, new semi-dry (hah!) gloves, I see to my surprise that my fingers are still there. Wow. I dry them off and get a cup of hot tea from my wife (yes dear, I love you very, very much!). I start thawing my fingers on the cup while sipping slowly and thinking that two tablespoons of sugar would have been nice in the cup (but I still love you, dear!) As my fingers slowly thaw I start to feel them. And boy, do I feel them! Have you ever been really, really, really(!) cold? Not? Well, if you get really, really, really(!) cold fingers (or toes), you'll probably prefer having those fingers (or toes) slowly ground in a red-hot meat grinder rather than feeling them thaw up. Man, I can't remember having frozen nails like that since I was a kid. Any Canadians, Alaskans or fellow Scandinavians reading this probably know what I'm talking about. If your idea of "cold" is "I think I might better put on long pants and a sweatshirt", you don't know what you've been missing. And good on you. It took about half an hour and sixteen dozen of loud swear words, but my fingers finally thawed up.
Next time, I'm gonna wear my mittens. 6 mils, three fingers. Them gloves ain't comin' with me until we've got water temps in the double digits. Just sayin'.
*) You 'murricans call 911, we Euros call 112. Same thing, but different numbers
Now, since it was almost spring and quite mild and nice, I decided to try my new wet gloves. You see, I try to take pictures down there, and operating a small compact camera housing with buttons clearly made for tropical water temperatures and non-gloved, nimble and narrow ladies' fingers while you're wearing 6mm three-finger mittens is... challenging. So, I went and bought myself a pair of five-finger gloves. No, not wet gloves. Semi-dry. As if that made a difference. Hah. Yes, I can hear you. Dry gloves, you say. Sure, 'cept my suit has neoprene cuffs. If you know of any dry gloves that work with neoprene cuffs, please let me know.
But I digress. Back to this morning. The weather is nice. Remarkably nice, since yesterday we had the mother of all winter storms. Or maybe the grandmother. Ferries harbored, mountain roads closed, the works. But today, only a light breeze and even a small patch of blue sky. So, we pack up, me and Jr. And wifey (yes, dear, I love you!), gently shanghaied to count bubbles and wait patiently in the nice zero degree snowfall until we surface and give the "we're OK, don't call 112*)" sign. So, we drive down and dress up. Me, I put on my new, very smooth, very elastic, nice 5-finger gloves. Semi-dry, remember? And it's really nice to not try to operate stuff with mittens. Until we get in the water. Sure, it's cold at the surface. And those gloves are... not-even-semi dry. But let's just get beneath the thermocline, and it's gonna be real toasty, right? Wrong. Did I mention we had a storm yesterday? Well, there was no friggin' thermocline. At 18m, it's one. frickin'. degree. warmer. than on the surface. And my semi-dry gloves are definitely more semi than dry.
After half an hour, I can't feel my fingers any more. I know they're supposed to be there, I can even see them. I assume it's some kind of hallucination. We ascend to the safety stop, where I decide to practice shooting my DSMB, which I bought last fall and have shot only once before. With... not very convincing results. I manage to unpack it from the small pouch, but I just can't clip the d*mned pouch to my BCD. My fingers sort of won't listen to me. D*mned fingers. I give the pouch to Jr. and manage to shoot the DSMB in a slightly less unconvincing manner than the first time. Yay! Good work! We surface, inflate our BCDs, give the OK sign to wifey who's sitting patiently on the quay (yes, dear, I really love you!) and paddle to the shore. As we stagger up, I tell Jr. to get into the water again. I'm sure I've left my fingers somewhere out there, would you do your old dad a service and go look for them?
He won't. I wonder - again - what's the matter with today's youth. But, after taking off my nice, new semi-dry (hah!) gloves, I see to my surprise that my fingers are still there. Wow. I dry them off and get a cup of hot tea from my wife (yes dear, I love you very, very much!). I start thawing my fingers on the cup while sipping slowly and thinking that two tablespoons of sugar would have been nice in the cup (but I still love you, dear!) As my fingers slowly thaw I start to feel them. And boy, do I feel them! Have you ever been really, really, really(!) cold? Not? Well, if you get really, really, really(!) cold fingers (or toes), you'll probably prefer having those fingers (or toes) slowly ground in a red-hot meat grinder rather than feeling them thaw up. Man, I can't remember having frozen nails like that since I was a kid. Any Canadians, Alaskans or fellow Scandinavians reading this probably know what I'm talking about. If your idea of "cold" is "I think I might better put on long pants and a sweatshirt", you don't know what you've been missing. And good on you. It took about half an hour and sixteen dozen of loud swear words, but my fingers finally thawed up.
Next time, I'm gonna wear my mittens. 6 mils, three fingers. Them gloves ain't comin' with me until we've got water temps in the double digits. Just sayin'.
*) You 'murricans call 911, we Euros call 112. Same thing, but different numbers