DS tank wipe
Guest
'Twas the night dive before Christmas, when all around the sunken barque
Not a pelagic creature was stirring, not even a shark;
My long hose was wrapped around my neck with great care,
But I spotted a stroke with a can of SpareAir;
The abalone were nestled throughout the kelp beds,
While shimmering fishies schooled past my head;
My buddy in his drysuit and I in my wet,
Had just descended the anchor line and on the bottom we met;
We were checking our gauges when we heard this strange clatter,
So we swam to the wall to see what was the matter;
We reached the edge swimming in a dash,
When something tore by us and flew down in a flash;
The illumination of our beams through particles of snow,
Gave a surreal luster to the object below;
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But Pipin's new sleigh ... and eight... no, nine... tiny reindeer?
With a jolly old diver dropping through the dark,
I knew right away I must be quite narced;
More rapid than seagulls after ice cream,
This guy just kept going ... I swear... this wasn't a dream;
Now Pipin, now Mayol, now Umberto too,
Even Maiorca, his daughter and Costeau;
Have been known to freedive deep without fear,
And let's not forget that aquababe Grier;
But through the water column and far down the wall,
Santa and this sled continued to fall;
He was holding his breath and he was unmasked,
In order to take on his new found Christmas task;
The reindeer, however, were blowing bubbles,
Since they were clad in helmets and doubles;
So need to worry about the reindeer being hypoxic,
Or even about their oxygen becoming toxic;
For on each little cylinder stenciled in WKPP style,
Was a blend of trimix that would last quite awhile;
So don't be concerned with our little friends drowning,
Lots of stage bottles were D-ringed in their mountings;
Santa was red-sheathed from his toes to his chin,
And strapped to his feet were a pair of long-bladed fins;
A bundle of toys still clung to his back,
Held there in place by a Zeagle Techpac;
His eyes were wide-open and his cheeks were so very...
Cold from the water ... what do you expect? ... it's almost January!
At the bottom of the cable Santa reached his max depth,
He then began to ascend but let out a breath;
As my buddy and I peered into the night,
Rudolph's shiny red nose portrayed Santa's plight;
He was snagged on the cable... wrapped up like twine,
By that meanest of "grinches" -- monofilament line!
There was no time to lose, no time to waste,
Christmas must be saved, now and posthaste!
We wanted to save him, we wanted to go,
But, alas and unfortunately, our air supplies were low;
Just as I thought Christmas was off,
I borrowed an idea from David Hasselhoff;
A can of SpareAir would do the trick!
All I had to find was that stroke ... yeah... that dick!
My light panned the water frantically from left to right,
Searching the darkness... searching the night...
I picked him out quick as shot,
He was easy to find, easy to spot;
He wore mail order dive gear - everything bargain brand,
In his neon pink wetsuit jacket with those really weird fins ... you
know the
revolutionary designed fins that are supposed to out-perform all others
and he
even had the expensive ones with those adjustable ratcheting whiskers
and I
mean ... gosh... with all those suicide snaps clipped to his weightbelt
he
looked... pardon me, I digress...
He looked just grand;
Anyway... I knew where to find it, I knew where to go,
His SpareAir was dangling from his torso;
I reached him, I grabbed it and took off lickedy-split,
It was up to me to save our St. Nick;
I made it to Santa and cut him away,
Pulled him from danger on Pipin's sleigh;
Sorry I had to let Santa's bag plummet into the abyss that nigh' So if
your
stocking was a bit empty, now you know why;
Long story short I made it on down
Thanks to yours truly, Santa didn't drown;
He may have had the record he may even have won,
But a freedive doesn't count if you breathe ... whether two breaths or
one!
The reindeer decompressed, Santa and I did too;
After all, a SpareDeath will save you from goo.
My buddy he ascended and on deck became sick,
But not before finding some Jimmy Buffet music;
So Santa, my buddy, the reindeer and I
We got together to plan our next Christmas in July
And for all my heroism what did I win
The only thing Santa had left ... his long-bladed V12 split fins!
A P.S. to this story which ended happily for me and for you,
Unfortunately one diver failed to pull through;
When I grabbed his SpareAir to save our Santa bloke
I scared the fondu out of the stroke
He held his breath and overexpanded,
Deep down that wall his body has landed;
That's why he's gone ... my present to all here,
So, merry Christmas to you all and happy New Year!
Not a pelagic creature was stirring, not even a shark;
My long hose was wrapped around my neck with great care,
But I spotted a stroke with a can of SpareAir;
The abalone were nestled throughout the kelp beds,
While shimmering fishies schooled past my head;
My buddy in his drysuit and I in my wet,
Had just descended the anchor line and on the bottom we met;
We were checking our gauges when we heard this strange clatter,
So we swam to the wall to see what was the matter;
We reached the edge swimming in a dash,
When something tore by us and flew down in a flash;
The illumination of our beams through particles of snow,
Gave a surreal luster to the object below;
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But Pipin's new sleigh ... and eight... no, nine... tiny reindeer?
With a jolly old diver dropping through the dark,
I knew right away I must be quite narced;
More rapid than seagulls after ice cream,
This guy just kept going ... I swear... this wasn't a dream;
Now Pipin, now Mayol, now Umberto too,
Even Maiorca, his daughter and Costeau;
Have been known to freedive deep without fear,
And let's not forget that aquababe Grier;
But through the water column and far down the wall,
Santa and this sled continued to fall;
He was holding his breath and he was unmasked,
In order to take on his new found Christmas task;
The reindeer, however, were blowing bubbles,
Since they were clad in helmets and doubles;
So need to worry about the reindeer being hypoxic,
Or even about their oxygen becoming toxic;
For on each little cylinder stenciled in WKPP style,
Was a blend of trimix that would last quite awhile;
So don't be concerned with our little friends drowning,
Lots of stage bottles were D-ringed in their mountings;
Santa was red-sheathed from his toes to his chin,
And strapped to his feet were a pair of long-bladed fins;
A bundle of toys still clung to his back,
Held there in place by a Zeagle Techpac;
His eyes were wide-open and his cheeks were so very...
Cold from the water ... what do you expect? ... it's almost January!
At the bottom of the cable Santa reached his max depth,
He then began to ascend but let out a breath;
As my buddy and I peered into the night,
Rudolph's shiny red nose portrayed Santa's plight;
He was snagged on the cable... wrapped up like twine,
By that meanest of "grinches" -- monofilament line!
There was no time to lose, no time to waste,
Christmas must be saved, now and posthaste!
We wanted to save him, we wanted to go,
But, alas and unfortunately, our air supplies were low;
Just as I thought Christmas was off,
I borrowed an idea from David Hasselhoff;
A can of SpareAir would do the trick!
All I had to find was that stroke ... yeah... that dick!
My light panned the water frantically from left to right,
Searching the darkness... searching the night...
I picked him out quick as shot,
He was easy to find, easy to spot;
He wore mail order dive gear - everything bargain brand,
In his neon pink wetsuit jacket with those really weird fins ... you
know the
revolutionary designed fins that are supposed to out-perform all others
and he
even had the expensive ones with those adjustable ratcheting whiskers
and I
mean ... gosh... with all those suicide snaps clipped to his weightbelt
he
looked... pardon me, I digress...
He looked just grand;
Anyway... I knew where to find it, I knew where to go,
His SpareAir was dangling from his torso;
I reached him, I grabbed it and took off lickedy-split,
It was up to me to save our St. Nick;
I made it to Santa and cut him away,
Pulled him from danger on Pipin's sleigh;
Sorry I had to let Santa's bag plummet into the abyss that nigh' So if
your
stocking was a bit empty, now you know why;
Long story short I made it on down
Thanks to yours truly, Santa didn't drown;
He may have had the record he may even have won,
But a freedive doesn't count if you breathe ... whether two breaths or
one!
The reindeer decompressed, Santa and I did too;
After all, a SpareDeath will save you from goo.
My buddy he ascended and on deck became sick,
But not before finding some Jimmy Buffet music;
So Santa, my buddy, the reindeer and I
We got together to plan our next Christmas in July
And for all my heroism what did I win
The only thing Santa had left ... his long-bladed V12 split fins!
A P.S. to this story which ended happily for me and for you,
Unfortunately one diver failed to pull through;
When I grabbed his SpareAir to save our Santa bloke
I scared the fondu out of the stroke
He held his breath and overexpanded,
Deep down that wall his body has landed;
That's why he's gone ... my present to all here,
So, merry Christmas to you all and happy New Year!
