Date:
Saturday, Sept. 16, 2006
Location:
Casino Point Dive Park.
Buddy:
Mo2vation-KenIHelpYouWithThoseTanks?
Max Depth:
92 fsw at the Suejac
Temp:
63F below the thermocline, 68 surface
Bottom time:
1 hour, 9 minutes
Gas: Banked
air from the CDS trailer... comatose compressor was awaiting belt transplant.
Gas Cans:
The steel lp95 Acme-Safe doubles.
Gear weight, dry: 112 lbs of tanks and air + approx 30 lbs of assorted gear. Let's call it
142 lbs. (I'm kidding myself... it's likely more.)
'Chica weight, dry: 147 lbs.
Comments: No words can compare with the great photos that Ken posted!!!
The Lime Sessions were endless rollicking fun as we were surrounded by 5 species of very curious fish.... and the pictures are beautiful. Watching Mo2vation learn stuff is a fast-forward experience, (the guy has a vertical learning curve,) and I'm skipping along as fast as I can to keep up. Great stuff and 8 fabulous dives. I learned more than I knew I didn't know. New hand signals were invented and improved upon...masks were flooded in hilarity. Good times with an incomparable diving partner.
But one dive in particular stands out: My first with the earth-shaking-double lp95s, the Tanks that Crushed Tokyo!! All you guys and gals that are diving dub-lp104s and hp119s and hp130s: My hood is off to you. I've met my max tank config, and our first dance was quite a doozy! Please spare me the invites to dive the truely gargantuan tanks that would crush me to whahfer-thin-ness. This is just my take on a memorable first dive with what may be my doubles rig configuration.
This was our final flurry of diving doubles before returning all the graciously loaned tanks to their generous owners.
I dived the first 6 dives with the elegant steel lp85s, which are easy to handle (now!!) and trim out well for me. I like them very much and gained confidence daily.
Ken was using steel lp95s that a friend really likes. He carried them around with few complaints. We are considering matching our doubles since our SAC rates are consistently close. It's a good thought... but OH! Those 95s! Heavy Beasties. Short
and fat (8 inch dia., whereas the lp85s are 7 inch diameters and a few inches taller.)
Third day comes, Dive #7, which is when I'm supposed to try the 95s. I try to bail, with some flimsy excuse, and I get "the look" in response.
"OK...OK.... I'll try them. Let's switch over the BP/Wings."
Filled to 2700, we're talking about 112 pounds of tank and air, instead of the civilized 90 pounds of the lp85s.
I felt like a Looney Tunes ACME Bank Safe was strapped to my back.
Trying to stand up from the bench was pure vaudeville, with my arms and legs lurching out in front like some stroked-out zombie strapped to the slab...... until I figured the COG, hunkered down lower, and levered myself and the bank-safe smoothly into a standing position.
OK. Deep breath.
Walking across the tarmac to the water, I discovered just how rough the ground is because each bump and pebble pressed into the bottoms of my feet like a crazed reflexologist without a plan!!!! This was through my drysuit soft-boots and rubber soled neoprene dive boots.
Ken sweetly suggested that I put plenty of air in my wing before pushing off the steps. So, going all "Macy's Parade Float", I plumped up; Black cordura stretched taut over the bladder of life..... and hbBarge'Chica splashed in.
Large boat horns sounded nearby. The wake shook up the nearby OW students.
Not bad. Heavy to push through the water to the drop spot, lots of water resistance to the Michelin-Man Plumped Wing... but not bad. We were ready to drop asap, and here came one of the great moments of my '06 diving year.
I raised the corrugated hose and dumped air as usual. I like to drop fast while watching my buddy, and then level off to a clean hover just off the bottom.
Only now, I'm dealing with 20 freekin' pounds of negativity and I just dumped the wing as if I was still prancing around with the dainty 85s....
So, instead of falling gracefully foward, my head now plunges downward like an F18 in a full stall!! I am augering in, head-dropping by the second, with all the hydrodynamic grace of an anchor. I instinctively wind-mill backwards twice with BOTH hands in an attempt to avoid becoming a Vertical LawnDart!!!! Me!!??!! I Never use my hands to change trim... Never!
I see myself doing this and it cracks me up so completely that I laugh out loud.... and flood my mask to my soggy eyebrows!! The rocky bottom, which had been 35 feet away, was now considerably closer and moving toward me...uh.. quickly.
I did the fastest mask clear in history... (Ken kept laughing later as he described it....) while I arched my back like a beast and frog-kicked both calves into cannon-ball cramps to keep horizontal.
Then I grabbed my inflator and just MASHED IT... you know how when you're p.o.'d in traffic and feel like the car horn is louder if you press HARDER on the center of the steering wheel??? Well that was me, mashing the inflator button with every muscle in my left arm and shoulder! My right hand was going for the D.S. inflator valve, and I think I was mashing on that too.
For about 1 looooooong second I continued to plummet downward... doing a complete Wiley Coyote Down-into-the-Canyon free-fall, awaiting the inevitable WHOOMMMPHF... followed by the dust clouds roiling out into the sudden silence..... and the RoadRunner's triumphant Beep-Beep!!
But real-world physics finally engaged. My descent slowed by the inverse-square rule.
I slowed the tiniest bit.
I slowed more.
And then I
touched the bottom, my right index finger pressing lightly on a rock as if it were an elevator call button. The mass of water I was pushing mooshed into the bottom and a little bit of sand and debris poofed outward.
Holy mackeral... one of the fastest and busiest descents of my life.
Ken was very nearby and cracking up so hard his head was wreathed in bubbles for several minutes.
And of course, I was regaled with the re-enactment several times during the rest of the day. Several times
I mean, I did pull it off, and went on to fall in love with these Beastly tanks underwater...(Can't argue with 69 fun minutes exploring the reef and the Suejac, with a max depth of 92).. but it was one crazy crash-course in physics and flow and buoyancy and Busy-Hands-Are-Happy-Hands!!!
Ken watched the whole thing unfold, from about 10 feet away, in crystal clear water, marvelling at how much can happen in less than 27 seconds.
The second dive with the 95s was much smoother. I vented the wing as a miser would give away gold.... slowly and not a bit more than absolutely necessary. I descended about 15 degrees head-up... and slowly. The tanks really do trim out very well underwater. The mass is noticebly larger, and my legs took the brunt of it as I kept trying to kick around the way I had with the balletic 85s. It's amazing to hover, "weightless"... carrying gear equal to my body weight.
I'll learn to change direction more slowly, and accelerate more gently. When I moved too fast, my legs cramped and I had to hang there waiting for the release... so I might as well just turn slowly in the first place.
But for now, I'm back to being a happy single-tank guppy diver!!
When I put on my hp100 (and wetsuit!!) Sunday morning for a ReefCheck survey (20fsw MAX!!! hahahaha), it was absolutely hysterical! The 43 pound tank felt like a styrofoam movie prop! This was a real tank I could breath from???? What a crack-up.
And I loved it! Once again I could easily roll and spin quickly amidst and fish and kelp. We had a blast completing fish counts on six 30-meter transect lines and laughing in the sun before and after.
Diving is tangible joy. Sometimes it's heavy. Sometimes not so much. It's always fun.
Thanks, Ken, for all the safety and enthusiasm and fun and learning. It's a great adventure.
Claudette
Air was 72
