Roughwaterjohn
Contributor
I know this is past due, but I just joined ScubaBoard. I was out of town last weekend, so I don't have a dive report to share from last week, I hope this one from two weeks ago suffices. Let me know if it's too long winded for this site. :11:
Conditions: Surface conditions were 2'-3' breakers, with an
occasional 4' set. Steady, but not too strong south long shore
current. Medium swells at least as far out as the buoy. We dropped down at 7:42AM to 19 fsw. Visibility on the sand flats was approximately 10'. As we descended into the canyon, visibility opened up to approximately 20' overall, with occasional reductions due to surge and floating particulates. Visibility at 6 fsw and shallower was 0' to sub-0'. Temperature at drop in was 59 degrees, dropping to 52 in the canyon. Our maximum depth was 95 fsw, with an average depth of 75 fsw. Our total bottom time was 39 minutes.
Photos: Sorry, no photos this time.
Terry and I were planning on meeting up at La Jolla Shores this
morning, at the foot of Vallecitos St. The Cove and most shore
breaking beaches are still getting hit hard, so the Shores looked like a viable option, Tuesday night not withstanding. :11ztongue Leaving my house, I was greeted with bright blue skies and a rising point of light burning a hole in my rear view mirror.
We timed our dive a little later than usual to take advantage of more favorable conditions. With low tide barely over 1' on a minor 1-knot ebb, we would only have the surge and the surf to contend with, formidable enough foes in their own right. We didn't want to hold out for slack tide at 9:10 due to the difficulty in parking that late in the morning. Hmmm, parking pounding surf, parking ..pounding surf? We decided the surf was a safer alternative, which you would agree with if you've ever tried to park in La Jolla.
The waves were once again doing their deceptive best to draw us in. Luring us into the water with small breakers, then increasing in size and force with every tenuous step we took. We stood in thigh high water for a while, chatting it up, pretending not to notice and purposely not looking out to sea. When we lulled the sea into a false comfort level, and with the waves momentarily loosing interest with us, we whooped like screaming children and ran headlong through the surf. Our trick worked. Although we had to duck under a couple of big
pounders, we were passed the breakers before the really big ones had a chance to come after us. They spent their frustration in crashing foam, and secretly harbored thoughts of revenge.
Once at the buoy, with a quick buddy check and dive plan only moments behind us, we dropped down into green water. We dropped slowly, as the sandy bottom was invisible until a few feet overhead. The visibility wasn't that bad, but the murky water combined with a sandy bottom devoid of any distinctive shapes or colors to basically camouflage it until our eyes reacted to what our feet were telling them. (Hey ya big dummy, yur stand'n on tha bottom)
With buoyancy reacquired, we headed due west into the canyon, then down to approximately 85 fsw, before turning south. Life wasn't present in any abundance today, in fact, what life we found we had to hunt for and at times, surprise ourselves for recognizing it for what it was. What it was, was usually tiny. We saw nothing larger than a small Octopus, lurking outside his den. We saw no fish larger than a Goby, but plenty of those.
As we cruised along the wall, we stayed pretty much within a long field of detritus that ran south along the wall at approximately 75 fsw 85 fsw. We saw a nice little Navanax, several tiny (1/4"or smaller) crabs that neither of us could identify without a scanning electron microscope, some very tiny shrimp, and a lone Rock Blenny. We found the Octopus sitting on the edge of his den, but he oozed inside as we approached. I decided, in my naturally childish way, that a curiosity battle was needed. Would my curiosity wane before
his peaked? Moving down slope, I laid low and pretended not to be there. Within a couple of minutes, I was rewarded with a couple of beady little eyes sticking up from his hole and swiveling around to see if I was still there. I continued my deception, checking out my black clad fingernails and whistling while looking in every direction but towards the Octopus. Emboldened, he finally drew himself back out
of the hole and pretended not to notice me pretending not to notice him. I think that contest could be called a draw.
When we did finally hit turnaround pressure, we headed back up over the canyon lip and pointed our mask north/west, kicking with our south/east facing fins to maintain that direction. There were lots of Cone Snails out and one 3" crab decorated with kelp, growing debris and a constant body wash of shifting sand. We saw a couple of tale tell sand billows from departing Stingrays, but not the actual
Stingrays.
The surge picked up again from 30 fsw and shallower this time.
Initially it was fun, as we kicked slightly to maintain position,
then holding our hands in front of us and pretended to be airplanes as the surge shot us forward to the shallows. As long as you can avoid vertigo while your momentum outpaces the shifting sand below, it's a wonderful ride. At 18 fsw, we hit our surgy wall again, and kicked and kicked and kicked. Progress was easier than Tuesday night, but the effort never let up.
We were doing fine until approximately 6 fsw, when the visibility went away completely. With the sound of crashing surf pounding overhead, we were left with no choice but to hug the bottom and crawl blind towards shore, repeating our mantra, no stingrays, no stingrays. We surfaced at 4 fsw, stood up facing the waves, and immediately ducked to avoid the wave that was waiting there for us from our entry earlier. A couple of his thug buddies followed suit, but as we continued backing out, we eventually got shallow enough to
where the waves could no longer summon the strength to rise from the sea. A short walk across the sand, a quick shower and we were home free. Is this diving stuff great or what!
John A.
Conditions: Surface conditions were 2'-3' breakers, with an
occasional 4' set. Steady, but not too strong south long shore
current. Medium swells at least as far out as the buoy. We dropped down at 7:42AM to 19 fsw. Visibility on the sand flats was approximately 10'. As we descended into the canyon, visibility opened up to approximately 20' overall, with occasional reductions due to surge and floating particulates. Visibility at 6 fsw and shallower was 0' to sub-0'. Temperature at drop in was 59 degrees, dropping to 52 in the canyon. Our maximum depth was 95 fsw, with an average depth of 75 fsw. Our total bottom time was 39 minutes.
Photos: Sorry, no photos this time.
Terry and I were planning on meeting up at La Jolla Shores this
morning, at the foot of Vallecitos St. The Cove and most shore
breaking beaches are still getting hit hard, so the Shores looked like a viable option, Tuesday night not withstanding. :11ztongue Leaving my house, I was greeted with bright blue skies and a rising point of light burning a hole in my rear view mirror.
We timed our dive a little later than usual to take advantage of more favorable conditions. With low tide barely over 1' on a minor 1-knot ebb, we would only have the surge and the surf to contend with, formidable enough foes in their own right. We didn't want to hold out for slack tide at 9:10 due to the difficulty in parking that late in the morning. Hmmm, parking pounding surf, parking ..pounding surf? We decided the surf was a safer alternative, which you would agree with if you've ever tried to park in La Jolla.
The waves were once again doing their deceptive best to draw us in. Luring us into the water with small breakers, then increasing in size and force with every tenuous step we took. We stood in thigh high water for a while, chatting it up, pretending not to notice and purposely not looking out to sea. When we lulled the sea into a false comfort level, and with the waves momentarily loosing interest with us, we whooped like screaming children and ran headlong through the surf. Our trick worked. Although we had to duck under a couple of big
pounders, we were passed the breakers before the really big ones had a chance to come after us. They spent their frustration in crashing foam, and secretly harbored thoughts of revenge.
Once at the buoy, with a quick buddy check and dive plan only moments behind us, we dropped down into green water. We dropped slowly, as the sandy bottom was invisible until a few feet overhead. The visibility wasn't that bad, but the murky water combined with a sandy bottom devoid of any distinctive shapes or colors to basically camouflage it until our eyes reacted to what our feet were telling them. (Hey ya big dummy, yur stand'n on tha bottom)
With buoyancy reacquired, we headed due west into the canyon, then down to approximately 85 fsw, before turning south. Life wasn't present in any abundance today, in fact, what life we found we had to hunt for and at times, surprise ourselves for recognizing it for what it was. What it was, was usually tiny. We saw nothing larger than a small Octopus, lurking outside his den. We saw no fish larger than a Goby, but plenty of those.
As we cruised along the wall, we stayed pretty much within a long field of detritus that ran south along the wall at approximately 75 fsw 85 fsw. We saw a nice little Navanax, several tiny (1/4"or smaller) crabs that neither of us could identify without a scanning electron microscope, some very tiny shrimp, and a lone Rock Blenny. We found the Octopus sitting on the edge of his den, but he oozed inside as we approached. I decided, in my naturally childish way, that a curiosity battle was needed. Would my curiosity wane before
his peaked? Moving down slope, I laid low and pretended not to be there. Within a couple of minutes, I was rewarded with a couple of beady little eyes sticking up from his hole and swiveling around to see if I was still there. I continued my deception, checking out my black clad fingernails and whistling while looking in every direction but towards the Octopus. Emboldened, he finally drew himself back out
of the hole and pretended not to notice me pretending not to notice him. I think that contest could be called a draw.
When we did finally hit turnaround pressure, we headed back up over the canyon lip and pointed our mask north/west, kicking with our south/east facing fins to maintain that direction. There were lots of Cone Snails out and one 3" crab decorated with kelp, growing debris and a constant body wash of shifting sand. We saw a couple of tale tell sand billows from departing Stingrays, but not the actual
Stingrays.
The surge picked up again from 30 fsw and shallower this time.
Initially it was fun, as we kicked slightly to maintain position,
then holding our hands in front of us and pretended to be airplanes as the surge shot us forward to the shallows. As long as you can avoid vertigo while your momentum outpaces the shifting sand below, it's a wonderful ride. At 18 fsw, we hit our surgy wall again, and kicked and kicked and kicked. Progress was easier than Tuesday night, but the effort never let up.
We were doing fine until approximately 6 fsw, when the visibility went away completely. With the sound of crashing surf pounding overhead, we were left with no choice but to hug the bottom and crawl blind towards shore, repeating our mantra, no stingrays, no stingrays. We surfaced at 4 fsw, stood up facing the waves, and immediately ducked to avoid the wave that was waiting there for us from our entry earlier. A couple of his thug buddies followed suit, but as we continued backing out, we eventually got shallow enough to
where the waves could no longer summon the strength to rise from the sea. A short walk across the sand, a quick shower and we were home free. Is this diving stuff great or what!
John A.
