Hammerhead
Contributor
Fellow divers, gather round, my name is Larry and Ive a story to tell. Sad perhaps, but salutary, I hope youll find.
My friends! My friends! Please dont turn away. Thats better, have a seat and make yourself comfortable. Go on, pull up a chair, it won't take long...
Best to start at the beginning, I suppose, just ten years ago I learned to dive, and from the very start, I felt I'd found my niche. I remember it well, so well
I took my time meandering through courses, you know how it is - Open Water here, Advanced there, Nitrox here, Rebreather there. Maybe a bit of Medic First Aid or Deep Air Oh yes, it was fun, but was I fulfilled? I thought I was.
Then once upon a summers dive holiday, I happened to be buddied up with a grizzled old dive dog in his sixties. His diving style was immaculate, and most impressively of all was how he managed it with some absolutely ancient gear. I mean, two hoses? What on earth?
For some reason the old boy took liked the cut of my jib and over local rum, we sat and discussed at length the advantages of his choices, the freedom it gave him in the water, the sweet, ineffable nostalgia of days gone by when diving was simple and things like split fins and trimix were not even a distant cloud on the azure horizon.
He spoke of a world divorced from long hoses and GI3; a world devoid of DIR and factional fighting, where people dove simply for the love of the sport.
He spoke long into the night of a time removed from our troublesome age and his words came to me across the gap of decades and echoed in the bottomless pits of my divers soul.
His honey-sweet words tore down the walls of complacency I had built without thought as easily as he himself cut through the water.
How young I was, how naive, wily old devil that he was, he knew from the look in my eyes that I hungered for his eloquent illusion.
Then came the hook. Of course.
He gave me a scuffed AMF Swimaster depth guage as a gift. To my amazement, it matched my brand new computer to the foot at 160 fsw. For the next week it was my constant partner on every dive
I came back home and for a while it was OK, but after a couple of weeks, I found myself getting up late at night and sneaking out from my warm bed, tiptoeing down the stairs, guilt and anticipation raising the hairs on the back of my neck
Down to the cabinet to pull open the drawer and hold if just for a fleeting moment the comforting weight of history in my hands.
One day at work, I essayed a few searches online and I discovered ebay and a huge vista of vintage equipment for sale at affordable prices. Ill admit I dabbled occasionally, but it was purely recreational. It was no big deal, I could quit any time I liked.
Then it was a small step to picking up a few old single hose regs, maybe a horse collar or two or a couple of bronze dive knives. I couldnt see it myself, of course, but by now the addiction was beginning to show. I tried, but the craving was too much, like claws digging into my very heart.
Friends and family could only turn away, anguish in their eyes; my job suffered; my health failed and my dog left me.
Today, the worn-out wreck you see, shoulders hunched and hands palsied is all that remains of the idealistic young man who made the mistake of believing that the clock could be turned back.
My story ends, my friends, I beg you do not follow me. Yes, leave now, its for the best.
Whats that? What bag? Oh this one, yes the brown paper one between my ankles. What is in it, you ask?
Well tis something special, maybe youd like to try it, in fact. Oh yes, its perfectly safe go on, just hook it up to this tank here if you dont believe me. There we go, of course you can have a breath heres the mouthpiece, let me help you, yes, just like that
now just take a breath, mmmmm.
Anyway, enough of that crap, the photos dont do it justice, the chrome is immaculate, the hoses supple and completely un-perished. Anyone out there who can put a date on this?
Back on topic, the result is that my first attempt at double hose diving is in less than 2 months in the Philippines. As a novice, Id really appreciate some tips (yes, Nemrod, I know mount it LOW!!!).
If all goes to plan, Ill be using it primarily for photography; bubbles at the back and all that
FWIW, the regs already been on a tank, and the guy at the shop who dives a Snark III and a Siebe Gorman Mistral (I think), reckons that its as damn near good as new.
Its my understanding that the 3,000 PSI Im likely to get at the resort is a bit of a no-no for these old fellas. True?
Also, the resort Ill be diving at is also likely to be very picky about having an octo (as in Id need one) and SPG, so Id love a bit of advice on how to mount these.
The plan is to use my Halcyon Pioneer, with the twin cam straps sound like a good idea?
Im so excited I gotta go pee!
My friends! My friends! Please dont turn away. Thats better, have a seat and make yourself comfortable. Go on, pull up a chair, it won't take long...
Best to start at the beginning, I suppose, just ten years ago I learned to dive, and from the very start, I felt I'd found my niche. I remember it well, so well
I took my time meandering through courses, you know how it is - Open Water here, Advanced there, Nitrox here, Rebreather there. Maybe a bit of Medic First Aid or Deep Air Oh yes, it was fun, but was I fulfilled? I thought I was.
Then once upon a summers dive holiday, I happened to be buddied up with a grizzled old dive dog in his sixties. His diving style was immaculate, and most impressively of all was how he managed it with some absolutely ancient gear. I mean, two hoses? What on earth?
For some reason the old boy took liked the cut of my jib and over local rum, we sat and discussed at length the advantages of his choices, the freedom it gave him in the water, the sweet, ineffable nostalgia of days gone by when diving was simple and things like split fins and trimix were not even a distant cloud on the azure horizon.
He spoke of a world divorced from long hoses and GI3; a world devoid of DIR and factional fighting, where people dove simply for the love of the sport.
He spoke long into the night of a time removed from our troublesome age and his words came to me across the gap of decades and echoed in the bottomless pits of my divers soul.
His honey-sweet words tore down the walls of complacency I had built without thought as easily as he himself cut through the water.
How young I was, how naive, wily old devil that he was, he knew from the look in my eyes that I hungered for his eloquent illusion.
Then came the hook. Of course.
He gave me a scuffed AMF Swimaster depth guage as a gift. To my amazement, it matched my brand new computer to the foot at 160 fsw. For the next week it was my constant partner on every dive
I came back home and for a while it was OK, but after a couple of weeks, I found myself getting up late at night and sneaking out from my warm bed, tiptoeing down the stairs, guilt and anticipation raising the hairs on the back of my neck
Down to the cabinet to pull open the drawer and hold if just for a fleeting moment the comforting weight of history in my hands.
One day at work, I essayed a few searches online and I discovered ebay and a huge vista of vintage equipment for sale at affordable prices. Ill admit I dabbled occasionally, but it was purely recreational. It was no big deal, I could quit any time I liked.
Then it was a small step to picking up a few old single hose regs, maybe a horse collar or two or a couple of bronze dive knives. I couldnt see it myself, of course, but by now the addiction was beginning to show. I tried, but the craving was too much, like claws digging into my very heart.
Friends and family could only turn away, anguish in their eyes; my job suffered; my health failed and my dog left me.
Today, the worn-out wreck you see, shoulders hunched and hands palsied is all that remains of the idealistic young man who made the mistake of believing that the clock could be turned back.
My story ends, my friends, I beg you do not follow me. Yes, leave now, its for the best.
Whats that? What bag? Oh this one, yes the brown paper one between my ankles. What is in it, you ask?
Well tis something special, maybe youd like to try it, in fact. Oh yes, its perfectly safe go on, just hook it up to this tank here if you dont believe me. There we go, of course you can have a breath heres the mouthpiece, let me help you, yes, just like that
now just take a breath, mmmmm.
Anyway, enough of that crap, the photos dont do it justice, the chrome is immaculate, the hoses supple and completely un-perished. Anyone out there who can put a date on this?
Back on topic, the result is that my first attempt at double hose diving is in less than 2 months in the Philippines. As a novice, Id really appreciate some tips (yes, Nemrod, I know mount it LOW!!!).
If all goes to plan, Ill be using it primarily for photography; bubbles at the back and all that
FWIW, the regs already been on a tank, and the guy at the shop who dives a Snark III and a Siebe Gorman Mistral (I think), reckons that its as damn near good as new.
Its my understanding that the 3,000 PSI Im likely to get at the resort is a bit of a no-no for these old fellas. True?
Also, the resort Ill be diving at is also likely to be very picky about having an octo (as in Id need one) and SPG, so Id love a bit of advice on how to mount these.
The plan is to use my Halcyon Pioneer, with the twin cam straps sound like a good idea?
Im so excited I gotta go pee!
Oh, and you should be ok with 3000psi, but don't exceed that. You may want to put a heavier yoke on it. I just tend to dive with low pressure steel tanks.
