temporarily removed - found -and restored
Navy Davy and I had anchored above the wreck at slack and proceeded to do our first dive. I was a fairly new diver at the time but learning bad habits fast from Dave. We each had a great dive and back on the boat shared our experiences as we hadn’t seen one another for an hour. Dave had already taught me how important it was to split up right away so as to cover the maximum territory.
Our tables (computers hadn’t been invented) showed the second dive would very quickly turn into a decompression dive… but since our tables also showed the stops we could make at 10 fsw for x or xx minutes all was well.
Being the wise old ex-navy diver that he was Dave proceeded to hang an extra tank of air over the side of the boat on a ten foot line. “Cool,” sez I… “what’s that for.” “Why that is a hang bottle for our deco.” sez Dave.
We proceeded to do our second dive even though a modest current was starting on the surface. At depth we found the current was moving in the opposite direction. Bye Bye Dave
I headed off to find treasure. Now I don’t really think most fishing lures actually attract fish… I think they are designed to attract fishermen… and even though I am not a fisherman I find them attractive too. I still collect them on occassion and hang them inside the boat.
Well this particular wreck was festooned with fishing lures… brightly colored ones as well as silvery ones… all trailing monofilament line… except for the ones trailing SS leader. Now this was in the days before I even knew what a penny cutter was… Shoot I don’t think they had been invented yet.
It was with great gusto that I freed my treasures from the wreck chopping away at the SS leader with my SS knife…. not a particularly efficient method. And after a few such attempts the knife was way too dull to cut even the monofilament fishing line with anything approaching gusto.
But I found that just wrapping the monofilament around my hands and breaking it was much easier anyway.
Some lures I stuffed into my pockets while others I stuffed into my goody bag… but finally I realized that I could just hold them in my hands as the hooks tended to secure them to my neoprene gloves.
Soon I noted that my bottom time had slipped passed the NDL and was very glad that Dave had hung a tank of air over the side for deco. I also noted that my SPG was reading 500 psi. “Cool,” I thought... "just enough to get this one last lure and head up to the hang bottle."
The last lure was a beauty… surely nothing a fish would be interested in but a treasure that I could not resist… curiously I don’t exactly remember what it looked like now… or anything about it other than I had to have it!
Fortunately it wasn’t on SS leader but the monofilament it was trailing was particularly tough. I had to wrap it tightly around both hands to break it. During the ensuing struggle I noticed that the fish hooks still left on the lures I was clutching had become entangled with the mono wrapped around my hands.
Finally able to break free of the mono I was now effectively handcuffed with fishing lures, hooks and multiple wraps of monofilament fishing line. Fortunately my goody bag was also securely tied into the mess so there was no danger of dropping it.
Several problems however presented themselves to me at this juncture.
First, I had no idea what my SPG was reading now since I could not retrieve it. Secondly the current had carried me away from the wreck as well as the up line. Thirdly I knew that I needed to make a ten foot stop but would have to do it without the hang bottle. Fourthly, if I did have enough air to make a ten foot stop… then who knows where the surface current would take me.
Doing my best to make what counted for a controlled ascent in those days and in such circumstances I swam up towards the ten foot stop as fast as possible.
Once at ten feet I proceeded to hang there waiting for my regulator to tell me that I was OOA. Minutes passed and still it delivered air. “Cool,” I sez.
I couldn't help but wondering where I might be drifting. The upper ten feet in this area is often so full of biomass that viz is essentially nil. I couldn't see the sun through the soup and I couldn't look at my compass as my hands were securely tied in front of me close to my chest.
I am not really sure how my BC was involved in the ligature but it was… as I remember it I was just able to reach up to my inflator but not down toward my weight belt.
Finally curiosity got the best of me and I surfaced to see where I was. Shoot! I had a ¼ mile swim back to the boat !!!
But at least I had my trophies.
Navy Davy and I had anchored above the wreck at slack and proceeded to do our first dive. I was a fairly new diver at the time but learning bad habits fast from Dave. We each had a great dive and back on the boat shared our experiences as we hadn’t seen one another for an hour. Dave had already taught me how important it was to split up right away so as to cover the maximum territory.
Our tables (computers hadn’t been invented) showed the second dive would very quickly turn into a decompression dive… but since our tables also showed the stops we could make at 10 fsw for x or xx minutes all was well.
Being the wise old ex-navy diver that he was Dave proceeded to hang an extra tank of air over the side of the boat on a ten foot line. “Cool,” sez I… “what’s that for.” “Why that is a hang bottle for our deco.” sez Dave.
We proceeded to do our second dive even though a modest current was starting on the surface. At depth we found the current was moving in the opposite direction. Bye Bye Dave
I headed off to find treasure. Now I don’t really think most fishing lures actually attract fish… I think they are designed to attract fishermen… and even though I am not a fisherman I find them attractive too. I still collect them on occassion and hang them inside the boat.
Well this particular wreck was festooned with fishing lures… brightly colored ones as well as silvery ones… all trailing monofilament line… except for the ones trailing SS leader. Now this was in the days before I even knew what a penny cutter was… Shoot I don’t think they had been invented yet.
It was with great gusto that I freed my treasures from the wreck chopping away at the SS leader with my SS knife…. not a particularly efficient method. And after a few such attempts the knife was way too dull to cut even the monofilament fishing line with anything approaching gusto.
But I found that just wrapping the monofilament around my hands and breaking it was much easier anyway.
Some lures I stuffed into my pockets while others I stuffed into my goody bag… but finally I realized that I could just hold them in my hands as the hooks tended to secure them to my neoprene gloves.
Soon I noted that my bottom time had slipped passed the NDL and was very glad that Dave had hung a tank of air over the side for deco. I also noted that my SPG was reading 500 psi. “Cool,” I thought... "just enough to get this one last lure and head up to the hang bottle."
The last lure was a beauty… surely nothing a fish would be interested in but a treasure that I could not resist… curiously I don’t exactly remember what it looked like now… or anything about it other than I had to have it!
Fortunately it wasn’t on SS leader but the monofilament it was trailing was particularly tough. I had to wrap it tightly around both hands to break it. During the ensuing struggle I noticed that the fish hooks still left on the lures I was clutching had become entangled with the mono wrapped around my hands.
Finally able to break free of the mono I was now effectively handcuffed with fishing lures, hooks and multiple wraps of monofilament fishing line. Fortunately my goody bag was also securely tied into the mess so there was no danger of dropping it.
Several problems however presented themselves to me at this juncture.
First, I had no idea what my SPG was reading now since I could not retrieve it. Secondly the current had carried me away from the wreck as well as the up line. Thirdly I knew that I needed to make a ten foot stop but would have to do it without the hang bottle. Fourthly, if I did have enough air to make a ten foot stop… then who knows where the surface current would take me.
Doing my best to make what counted for a controlled ascent in those days and in such circumstances I swam up towards the ten foot stop as fast as possible.
Once at ten feet I proceeded to hang there waiting for my regulator to tell me that I was OOA. Minutes passed and still it delivered air. “Cool,” I sez.
I couldn't help but wondering where I might be drifting. The upper ten feet in this area is often so full of biomass that viz is essentially nil. I couldn't see the sun through the soup and I couldn't look at my compass as my hands were securely tied in front of me close to my chest.
I am not really sure how my BC was involved in the ligature but it was… as I remember it I was just able to reach up to my inflator but not down toward my weight belt.
Finally curiosity got the best of me and I surfaced to see where I was. Shoot! I had a ¼ mile swim back to the boat !!!
But at least I had my trophies.
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