Arnaud
Contributor
Thursday night
In the pool with OW students. The water is warm. The viz is good. I have a steel 80 in my back. A nice summer sunset in Malibu. I kick my fins, play with the kids, play with my buoyancy. Here I am lying still 3 inches above the bottom. I extend my left leg and the knee cracks. It sounds kind of loud in the water. The sharp pain that follows doesn't make any sound. I do.
Out of the water. What's going on? The knee went out of whack, but I can't get it back in. I can walk. I can't flex it or fully extend it. The sharp pain is gone. Okay, back in the water. Seems to be working. Finish the pool session. Get out of the pool. The knee is still not operating per the instruction manual that came with it a while back. I can walk. Who cares? I load the car and crack! Back in its socket, if there's such thing. No pain at all. It never happened.
Back at the store. Unloading everybody else's stuff. Hey, no one ever carried my gear when I did my OW! Sigh: Different time, different country. We want to make sure they come back
Store is closed. Let's go to dinner. Crack. Knee goes out of whack again. Again, sharp pain. Except this time, the pain's not going. I try to make it crack again all night long. Nothing. At 3AM, I'm popping some aspirin and a Unisom. At 3:45, I'm finally welcome by Morpheus (no MP3 here).
It's the 4th of July!
I'm home wearing a knee brace. The pain is still there. That BBQ party in Santa Barbara will be happening without me. My better half is out of the country. On my own, in front of the computer. I'm miserable.
Saturday, the 5th of July
Had a better night, compliment of the knee brace. I'm still at home. The pain is still around. Not as bad. But not gone either. Great weather, today. Going, not going. I've booked a trip on the Peace to Anacapa. I got stuff planned for every weekend of the month. And next month, I'll be in Spain for some more diving.
I'm not going. I've made up my mind. I call the store to cancel. What do you mean it's too late? Never mind. I'll stay home, play on the computer and watch TV, like the rest of the country. I'm miserable.
If on Monday, the doc says I need surgery, I'm completely screwed. And I'm going to be spending the whole weekend, and possibly the whole summer landlocked. Can't happen. The pain is not so bad after all. And I didn't have any problem to swim in the pool on Thursday. That's it. I'm going. I pick up my tank at the store, pack my stuff, grab a burger at Fat's (hey, I didn't get any BBQ, remember?) and drive up north to Ventura. First time in 2 days that I feel good, despite the pain.
Saturday Night's All Right (not for fighting)
The Peace is a nice boat! Large and comfy. 2 full heads, plenty of space. They let you sleep on board the night before. The boat leaves at 7 in the morning and I don't like to get up at 4AM no matter what. I unpack my gear, get a bunk. One beer with some of my buddies. Just one. Didn't have any yesterday. Sue me. I'm going to sleep.
Sunday morning
Unpleasant wake-up call. Almost got me tumbling out of my bunk. The swell is bad. That was in the forecast but I was hopping. Well, it's bad. Good morning everybody. All of you guys who got up at 4. I slept great. Yep, it's pretty choppy. I need coffee. The coffee's ready. Actually, a full breakfast is served. Sausage, eggs, hash brown, cereals. The chef's Deborah. We're pal before I finish pouring my coffee.
Well, the ocean is not happy. No particular reason. There's heavy wind, 3 to 5 footers. Some breakers. But the sun's there. The gang is happy. We're going to have a good day no matter what. How's your knee? Didn't you cancel? My knee's okay right now. I'm not seasick, but that thing is sort of cutting my sea legs off. Anyway, let's go diving.
The crew's fantastic. Just like in a great restaurant when you need the waiter and he's there before you even had to ask. After less than an hour, we're on a first name basis. And it's not exactly like my first name is John. Those guys are divers, they know the sites, and they know the marine life. They're here to help and they do help. It doesn't feel like they're paid to help you, or that they will get fired if they don't. It's just: you need somethin', we're here for ya. Not contrived, just naturally good people. I love that. You want Nitrox, here it is. You want your tank filled to the max and not some sissy 2400 psi, no problem. Need help tucking that hood? Yes, I do!
First dive: Cat Rock
We drop by the anchor. The viz sucks. The water is loaded with planktons. There's some kelps around, but we choose to go to a reef. It just looks like rocks. And the sun has disappeared behind a marine layer, so the light is really not that good. I get closer and it becomes unbelievable. You have to be really close. The colors, that looked like a grayish green a few yards ago are vivid. Yellow, dark red, white, and some green. It feels like the rocks were painted by Van Gogh. There are also starfish and blue sea urchins everywhere. Plenty of nudies from the small Spanish shawl to gazillion of sea hares mating like crazy. My buddy is busy taking pictures. I'm just happy to be here. The knee? What knee? On the way back, we miss the boat. Damn current. We ascend in the middle of nowhere. Absolutely no reference point but our computer and billions of planktons. We take a 3 minute break at 15 feet, looking at each other and surface. We missed the boat all right. It's about 200 yards away So, we swim back. Against a current. The sun is back. It's cool. My legs are working fine. The pain is gone. I feel good!
Second dive: Gold Fish Bowl Point
The ocean is not really settling down, but Kevin, our captain of the day, works hard to find us some acceptable spots. Back in the water. It's almost as good as the previous site, without the Van Gogh thing, though. More life, some bugs, a big sheep crab, and a Mola Mola passing by. I'm so happy I'm here. Back on the boat for lunch. It's homemade Chinese food, chicken, rolls, rice, salad. It tastes good and real. No deli meat from the supermarket, no frozen burgers or 2-cent hot dogs.
Third dive: Gold Fish Bowl
It's pretty close to the second site, but it's not exactly the same site. Kevin has moved the boat around, trying to find a different spot. No luck. Too much swell, or too much current. The boat is full and he doesn't want to take a chance. We descend. It's nice and mellow. Slightly better viz, shallow. A lot more life and a group of 4 mola molas. Not the big type. But it's an awesome sight anyway. At the 15 feet break, I look up and see that we're going to have a ball going back on the boat. In 45 minutes, the conditions have changed. The ocean doesn't seem to want us here anymore. I wait for my turn and then quickly jump on the platform, remove the fins. That's it. Safe zone.
Kevin asks around. Does anybody really want a fourth dive? They're all tired. I'm doing fine. Anyway, 3 dives are plenty. Let's head back home. At the harbor by 6. Unload my stuff. Good night everybody. Now, the only bad part: it's the end of a three-day weekend. Two and a half hour later (against 45 minutes on the way over), I'm home. Happy, relaxed, sunburn on my face. It was a good weekend after all. I'll worry about the rest later.
In the pool with OW students. The water is warm. The viz is good. I have a steel 80 in my back. A nice summer sunset in Malibu. I kick my fins, play with the kids, play with my buoyancy. Here I am lying still 3 inches above the bottom. I extend my left leg and the knee cracks. It sounds kind of loud in the water. The sharp pain that follows doesn't make any sound. I do.
Out of the water. What's going on? The knee went out of whack, but I can't get it back in. I can walk. I can't flex it or fully extend it. The sharp pain is gone. Okay, back in the water. Seems to be working. Finish the pool session. Get out of the pool. The knee is still not operating per the instruction manual that came with it a while back. I can walk. Who cares? I load the car and crack! Back in its socket, if there's such thing. No pain at all. It never happened.
Back at the store. Unloading everybody else's stuff. Hey, no one ever carried my gear when I did my OW! Sigh: Different time, different country. We want to make sure they come back
Store is closed. Let's go to dinner. Crack. Knee goes out of whack again. Again, sharp pain. Except this time, the pain's not going. I try to make it crack again all night long. Nothing. At 3AM, I'm popping some aspirin and a Unisom. At 3:45, I'm finally welcome by Morpheus (no MP3 here).
It's the 4th of July!
I'm home wearing a knee brace. The pain is still there. That BBQ party in Santa Barbara will be happening without me. My better half is out of the country. On my own, in front of the computer. I'm miserable.
Saturday, the 5th of July
Had a better night, compliment of the knee brace. I'm still at home. The pain is still around. Not as bad. But not gone either. Great weather, today. Going, not going. I've booked a trip on the Peace to Anacapa. I got stuff planned for every weekend of the month. And next month, I'll be in Spain for some more diving.
I'm not going. I've made up my mind. I call the store to cancel. What do you mean it's too late? Never mind. I'll stay home, play on the computer and watch TV, like the rest of the country. I'm miserable.
If on Monday, the doc says I need surgery, I'm completely screwed. And I'm going to be spending the whole weekend, and possibly the whole summer landlocked. Can't happen. The pain is not so bad after all. And I didn't have any problem to swim in the pool on Thursday. That's it. I'm going. I pick up my tank at the store, pack my stuff, grab a burger at Fat's (hey, I didn't get any BBQ, remember?) and drive up north to Ventura. First time in 2 days that I feel good, despite the pain.
Saturday Night's All Right (not for fighting)
The Peace is a nice boat! Large and comfy. 2 full heads, plenty of space. They let you sleep on board the night before. The boat leaves at 7 in the morning and I don't like to get up at 4AM no matter what. I unpack my gear, get a bunk. One beer with some of my buddies. Just one. Didn't have any yesterday. Sue me. I'm going to sleep.
Sunday morning
Unpleasant wake-up call. Almost got me tumbling out of my bunk. The swell is bad. That was in the forecast but I was hopping. Well, it's bad. Good morning everybody. All of you guys who got up at 4. I slept great. Yep, it's pretty choppy. I need coffee. The coffee's ready. Actually, a full breakfast is served. Sausage, eggs, hash brown, cereals. The chef's Deborah. We're pal before I finish pouring my coffee.
Well, the ocean is not happy. No particular reason. There's heavy wind, 3 to 5 footers. Some breakers. But the sun's there. The gang is happy. We're going to have a good day no matter what. How's your knee? Didn't you cancel? My knee's okay right now. I'm not seasick, but that thing is sort of cutting my sea legs off. Anyway, let's go diving.
The crew's fantastic. Just like in a great restaurant when you need the waiter and he's there before you even had to ask. After less than an hour, we're on a first name basis. And it's not exactly like my first name is John. Those guys are divers, they know the sites, and they know the marine life. They're here to help and they do help. It doesn't feel like they're paid to help you, or that they will get fired if they don't. It's just: you need somethin', we're here for ya. Not contrived, just naturally good people. I love that. You want Nitrox, here it is. You want your tank filled to the max and not some sissy 2400 psi, no problem. Need help tucking that hood? Yes, I do!
First dive: Cat Rock
We drop by the anchor. The viz sucks. The water is loaded with planktons. There's some kelps around, but we choose to go to a reef. It just looks like rocks. And the sun has disappeared behind a marine layer, so the light is really not that good. I get closer and it becomes unbelievable. You have to be really close. The colors, that looked like a grayish green a few yards ago are vivid. Yellow, dark red, white, and some green. It feels like the rocks were painted by Van Gogh. There are also starfish and blue sea urchins everywhere. Plenty of nudies from the small Spanish shawl to gazillion of sea hares mating like crazy. My buddy is busy taking pictures. I'm just happy to be here. The knee? What knee? On the way back, we miss the boat. Damn current. We ascend in the middle of nowhere. Absolutely no reference point but our computer and billions of planktons. We take a 3 minute break at 15 feet, looking at each other and surface. We missed the boat all right. It's about 200 yards away So, we swim back. Against a current. The sun is back. It's cool. My legs are working fine. The pain is gone. I feel good!
Second dive: Gold Fish Bowl Point
The ocean is not really settling down, but Kevin, our captain of the day, works hard to find us some acceptable spots. Back in the water. It's almost as good as the previous site, without the Van Gogh thing, though. More life, some bugs, a big sheep crab, and a Mola Mola passing by. I'm so happy I'm here. Back on the boat for lunch. It's homemade Chinese food, chicken, rolls, rice, salad. It tastes good and real. No deli meat from the supermarket, no frozen burgers or 2-cent hot dogs.
Third dive: Gold Fish Bowl
It's pretty close to the second site, but it's not exactly the same site. Kevin has moved the boat around, trying to find a different spot. No luck. Too much swell, or too much current. The boat is full and he doesn't want to take a chance. We descend. It's nice and mellow. Slightly better viz, shallow. A lot more life and a group of 4 mola molas. Not the big type. But it's an awesome sight anyway. At the 15 feet break, I look up and see that we're going to have a ball going back on the boat. In 45 minutes, the conditions have changed. The ocean doesn't seem to want us here anymore. I wait for my turn and then quickly jump on the platform, remove the fins. That's it. Safe zone.
Kevin asks around. Does anybody really want a fourth dive? They're all tired. I'm doing fine. Anyway, 3 dives are plenty. Let's head back home. At the harbor by 6. Unload my stuff. Good night everybody. Now, the only bad part: it's the end of a three-day weekend. Two and a half hour later (against 45 minutes on the way over), I'm home. Happy, relaxed, sunburn on my face. It was a good weekend after all. I'll worry about the rest later.
