Roughwaterjohn
Contributor
Marine Room / Canyon July 3rd
We dropped down at 9:34AM.
Seas were flat and calm.
2 tide, rising on a 1.8 knot flood from a low of 1.8 @ 5:07AM.
Water temperature hovered in the mid 60s.
Visibility was a greenish 3-5 in the shallows, to a darkish 5-10 at depth.
Maximum depth was 100 fsw, with an average depth of 80 fsw.
Total bottom time was 46 minutes.
Photos:
None-murky
The Report:
In my never ending quest to see how many divers I can lose in a single dive, I increased the number of dive buddies to six for this dive. Assuming, rightly so it seemed, that by working with the very poor visibility and the anticipated silt white-outs, I could conceivably lose 3 or 4 divers, and still have a possibility of having someone with me at the end of the dive. This devious plan proved quite fruitful.
We started out with two groups of three, Jayne, Karl and Marcella in group 1 and Roy, Joe and myself behind door #2. We walked across the large expanse of sand in front of the restaurant and straight into the water. We kicked out approximately even with the buoy, visible north of us off of Vallecitos St., confirmed our dive plan and dropped down. Not losing anyone between the surface and the sand, we did a group buddy check, pointed our anxious faces towards a 300degree heading and headed out.
It wasnt dark, just murky green and poor vis, but most had high-powered lights burning to help keep track of each other. Even my 6 billion candle power, hotter than the face of the sun, hood mounted HID proved unsuccessful in this daunting task. Although I had been checking back frequently to insure we stayed together, we didnt make it to the canyon edge before group one was lost in the gloom. With approximately 3 of visibility at this point, they could have been 3.5 away and would have remained invisible to us. We waited at the canyon edge in case they caught up, but it was for naught.
Five minutes into the dive, and we had already decreased our numbers by 50%. This didnt bode well for a group hug at depth. With the canyon before us, and the anticipated white wall of doom waiting gleefully below, I took one last look at my buddies, in case they to were going to Houdini and disappear on me, then started down, passing over a 2 Halibut at the canyons edge. We hit the white wall as expected and continued down through zero visibility. Try as I might, pressing my masked face to the only solid surface below me, I still could not make out the bottom. Our current visibility made the previous 3 in the shallows seem like wide open vistas seen from a Montana hill top.
Through the murk, we came out to a dark 5 of visibility at 90 fsw. Well, two of us came out anyway. That mysterious cloud hovering below the canyon edge had claimed another diver from our group, leaving him to wander solo somewhere above. We waited for a fruitless couple of minutes, hoping the cloud would tire of the sport and spit our wayward buddy out close enough for us top gather him back within the fold, but to no avail. Resigning ourselves to a two buddy team, with my current buddy eyeing my warily for some reason, we continued down to 100 fsw and started exploring.
We saw Sanddabs darting nervously up and down the slopes and Sea Pens sticking out of the sand like a scatter brained writer had stuck them there while catching his thoughts, and in his forgetfulness, continued to plant pens at every pause, forgetting the ones already left behind. We saw tiny (1/4 or less) bright orange Nudibranchs of a type Im not familiar with, a variety of smallish Tube Dwelling Anemones and a small Flounder.
When we started to encounter the white wall of doom again, we headed up through it, out of the canyon and towards the green waters above. The flats above were littered with Bat Rays in all sizes. We saw clearly 5-6 Rays, and encountered approximately 20-25 silt clouds as Bat Rays sailed away from our intrusion into their territory. At one point, we encountered a monster of a Bat Ray, 6+ wingtip to wingtip, motionless on the bottom, his body slightly raised off the bottom as he supported himself on his wings. The head was massive, with a big dark eye looking at us doubtfully. Its only movement was a slight pulling in of its wingtips on our approach, raising the body in preparation for flight as we approached, before settling back down as we backed off. The head on this behemoth was over a foot thick. Even at rest, it was a beautiful and mysterious creature. It eventually lifted itself from the sand and, leaving a silt cloud for our benefit, it sailed off into the distance, its wings flapping slowly and gracefully, for all its speed in departure.
We encountered little else on the way in, except for the occasional Swimming Crab in the San Dollar beds and a flight of Stingrays in the shallows. We surfaced in approximately 5 of water to a sea of weekend revelers, floating in kayaks, snorkeling, swimming and just generally wading around. Many of the snorkelers reported seeing a large number of Leopard Sharks in the shallows, as would be expected this time of year. The beach was dusted with a smattering of sunbathers, ball throwers and dog walkers. We made our way back to our vehicles, and were soon joined by the previously missing buddies. Everyone returned safe, if separate, and everyone had a good time.
John-Boy
We dropped down at 9:34AM.
Seas were flat and calm.
2 tide, rising on a 1.8 knot flood from a low of 1.8 @ 5:07AM.
Water temperature hovered in the mid 60s.
Visibility was a greenish 3-5 in the shallows, to a darkish 5-10 at depth.
Maximum depth was 100 fsw, with an average depth of 80 fsw.
Total bottom time was 46 minutes.
Photos:
None-murky
The Report:
In my never ending quest to see how many divers I can lose in a single dive, I increased the number of dive buddies to six for this dive. Assuming, rightly so it seemed, that by working with the very poor visibility and the anticipated silt white-outs, I could conceivably lose 3 or 4 divers, and still have a possibility of having someone with me at the end of the dive. This devious plan proved quite fruitful.
We started out with two groups of three, Jayne, Karl and Marcella in group 1 and Roy, Joe and myself behind door #2. We walked across the large expanse of sand in front of the restaurant and straight into the water. We kicked out approximately even with the buoy, visible north of us off of Vallecitos St., confirmed our dive plan and dropped down. Not losing anyone between the surface and the sand, we did a group buddy check, pointed our anxious faces towards a 300degree heading and headed out.
It wasnt dark, just murky green and poor vis, but most had high-powered lights burning to help keep track of each other. Even my 6 billion candle power, hotter than the face of the sun, hood mounted HID proved unsuccessful in this daunting task. Although I had been checking back frequently to insure we stayed together, we didnt make it to the canyon edge before group one was lost in the gloom. With approximately 3 of visibility at this point, they could have been 3.5 away and would have remained invisible to us. We waited at the canyon edge in case they caught up, but it was for naught.
Five minutes into the dive, and we had already decreased our numbers by 50%. This didnt bode well for a group hug at depth. With the canyon before us, and the anticipated white wall of doom waiting gleefully below, I took one last look at my buddies, in case they to were going to Houdini and disappear on me, then started down, passing over a 2 Halibut at the canyons edge. We hit the white wall as expected and continued down through zero visibility. Try as I might, pressing my masked face to the only solid surface below me, I still could not make out the bottom. Our current visibility made the previous 3 in the shallows seem like wide open vistas seen from a Montana hill top.
Through the murk, we came out to a dark 5 of visibility at 90 fsw. Well, two of us came out anyway. That mysterious cloud hovering below the canyon edge had claimed another diver from our group, leaving him to wander solo somewhere above. We waited for a fruitless couple of minutes, hoping the cloud would tire of the sport and spit our wayward buddy out close enough for us top gather him back within the fold, but to no avail. Resigning ourselves to a two buddy team, with my current buddy eyeing my warily for some reason, we continued down to 100 fsw and started exploring.
We saw Sanddabs darting nervously up and down the slopes and Sea Pens sticking out of the sand like a scatter brained writer had stuck them there while catching his thoughts, and in his forgetfulness, continued to plant pens at every pause, forgetting the ones already left behind. We saw tiny (1/4 or less) bright orange Nudibranchs of a type Im not familiar with, a variety of smallish Tube Dwelling Anemones and a small Flounder.
When we started to encounter the white wall of doom again, we headed up through it, out of the canyon and towards the green waters above. The flats above were littered with Bat Rays in all sizes. We saw clearly 5-6 Rays, and encountered approximately 20-25 silt clouds as Bat Rays sailed away from our intrusion into their territory. At one point, we encountered a monster of a Bat Ray, 6+ wingtip to wingtip, motionless on the bottom, his body slightly raised off the bottom as he supported himself on his wings. The head was massive, with a big dark eye looking at us doubtfully. Its only movement was a slight pulling in of its wingtips on our approach, raising the body in preparation for flight as we approached, before settling back down as we backed off. The head on this behemoth was over a foot thick. Even at rest, it was a beautiful and mysterious creature. It eventually lifted itself from the sand and, leaving a silt cloud for our benefit, it sailed off into the distance, its wings flapping slowly and gracefully, for all its speed in departure.
We encountered little else on the way in, except for the occasional Swimming Crab in the San Dollar beds and a flight of Stingrays in the shallows. We surfaced in approximately 5 of water to a sea of weekend revelers, floating in kayaks, snorkeling, swimming and just generally wading around. Many of the snorkelers reported seeing a large number of Leopard Sharks in the shallows, as would be expected this time of year. The beach was dusted with a smattering of sunbathers, ball throwers and dog walkers. We made our way back to our vehicles, and were soon joined by the previously missing buddies. Everyone returned safe, if separate, and everyone had a good time.
John-Boy
