HBDiveGirl
Contributor
- Messages
- 1,329
- Reaction score
- 44
- # of dives
- 1000 - 2499
Saturday morning of Memorial Day weekend... AND IT'S POURING RAIN?!!?!
Showing up is still 80% of life, so off I flew down the freeway to board the Sea Bass in San Pedro for a day of diving on the San Pedro Shelf.
Ken Liu and I were joining a passel of photographers, bound for the wreck of the Olympic II and then the Oil Rigs. The photogs loaded a host of crab-armed picture-making gear, and we loaded a brace of X-scooters and extra batteries for unlimited trigger time.
The wreck of The Olympic II:
8:20 AM, 95fsw max, 54F, 7-foot viz, 32%, 1-hour run time.
Captain Richard pinned the anchor exactly into the debris next to the impressive stern structure.
This a great Hunnerd-foot dive... when you can see it.
Today?: It was swathed in sediment, each particle doing the Brownian-motion two-step between my mask and the wreck. Yeech. Gloomy, dark, yeech.
While the WA photogs cursed their stars, and the Macro'istas drilled into the corynactis carpets, Ken Liu and I marked the anchor site by draping cave line across the debris. This wreck is in a very active boating/shipping lane, and ascending the anchor line is VERY IMPORTANT for safety. I've never missed the anchor line here in dozens of dives because I'm very careful to mark it if viz is limited.
We deployed the X-scooters, flashed "OK" signs, and ... we were OUTTA THERE!!! We zoomed along the starboard side of this 300-foot long debris field that's goal-posted by the upright stern section and the REALLY Tall-and-Upright bow section. It was like motoring up to a sky-scraper in a dark fog bank as we nearly ran into the bow. We did find the huge bowsprit cantilevered out over the sand and draped with rusty 8-inch links of chain from the old clipper ship.
We rounded the bow and zoomed back down the port side, pausing occasionally to peer into the deep spaces beneath massive iron sheets. It was just too dark to see much.
We returned to the stern, to join 4 other divers searching rather urgently. The anchor. It wasn't where we left it. We found out later that the anchor had been moved without leaving any kind of signal or sign to indicate it's new position... in 7 foot visibility. Great. 2 people stumbled upon the upline. Two others and Ken L. and I found an abandoned anchor with line that ended in open sand... and we did open ascents in current, surfacing damn far from the boat. The captain had asked that someone untangle the anchor if it looked trapped "before you all come up," but it never occurred to me that this action in bad vis could result in half the divers on the boat being unable to find the anchor. Interesting.
Ken Liu and I were eager to move out to deeper water and (hopefully) better viz.
Oil Rig Eureka:
11:15 AM, 101fsw Max, 52F, 32%, 55-minute run time.
Dozens of sleeping sealions on the lowest catwalks roused themselves as the SeaBass backed up to this gigantic oil rig, sitting in 650 feet of water. We peeled off like paratroopers, and Ken L. and I scootered into the center of the rig. Currents were pushing pretty hard as we confirmed our dive plan and sank from the rig-shaded surface. The sun was now shining, and there was only one place I wanted to be: On the Sunny Side of the Rig! We dropped through the huge blue/green cage, and I marveled again at the odd feeling of a fast descent in this limitless space.... the numbers on my depth gauge blinked by SO FAST!!! We hovered to a stop at 100fsw, gave the scooters their heads, and roared over toward the beautifully back-lit pilings and cross-bracings.
I LOVE RIG DIVING!!
Fun, FUN dive, and then it was time for lunch in the lovely sunshine on a gleaming blue sea. Was it really raining this morning? Hard to believe.
Oil Rig Ellie:
1:50 PM, 113fsw Max, 51F, 32%, 55 minute run time.
This rig sits in only 250 feet of water, and I expected the visibility to be reduced. It's a great rig to dive, with different structure than Eureka, but in my limited experience the viz has been less than Eureka.
NOT TODAY!!! Ken L. and I had discussed keeping this dive above 80fsw so we could enjoy a longer dive. Great plan... until we plummeted to 80, arrested into a hover, and looked down into...... well, into water we couldn't even see.
It was clear, transparent... as insubstantial as air.
Quick signals amended the dive plan, and we dropped like airplanes down out of the clouds, into clear "air" and unlimited vistas. I looked at Ken L. in shock... there just wasn't anything between us or holding us up. Wow.
Huge pilings poured downwards into midnight blue water way, way far away. Sunlit pillars of all colors rose up to the cloudy sky above us.
And we flew the x-scooters. Over, around, upside down (
), beneath and around... I was laughing at the glory of it all and the impossibility of it all. The current was still strong, and we played at flying into the headwind, inching forward to get around a piling, then turning downwind and accelerating as we were swept along the horizontal braces.
Our time at depth was limited, and we rose up to mingle with even thicker schools of those shimmering little silver fish.
Extended shallower stops were a blast as we raced down the narrow corridors of pipes, grateful for HIDs that kept us in safe communication in this fun-house maze.
I was settling down, getting ready for final ascent, when the sea lions dropped down on us like balloons from the ceiling at a New Year's Eve party. Of course we had to swirl and spin and make giggling eye-contact with these big and little puppies.
The Sea Bass was right there to welcome us back aboard for a sunny cruise back to San Pedro.
Thanks to Captain Richard, Earl and Greg for unfailing skill, assistance and good cheer. The SeaBass crew rules!
Thank you, Mr. Liu, for thoughtful, safe and fun diving throughout the day. I had a great time and learned a lot.
Happy Memorial Day, and Tons of Appreciation to All our countrymen and women in the Armed Forces. You're the best, and always remembered.
~~~~
Claudette
__________________
Showing up is still 80% of life, so off I flew down the freeway to board the Sea Bass in San Pedro for a day of diving on the San Pedro Shelf.
Ken Liu and I were joining a passel of photographers, bound for the wreck of the Olympic II and then the Oil Rigs. The photogs loaded a host of crab-armed picture-making gear, and we loaded a brace of X-scooters and extra batteries for unlimited trigger time.
The wreck of The Olympic II:
8:20 AM, 95fsw max, 54F, 7-foot viz, 32%, 1-hour run time.
Captain Richard pinned the anchor exactly into the debris next to the impressive stern structure.
This a great Hunnerd-foot dive... when you can see it.
Today?: It was swathed in sediment, each particle doing the Brownian-motion two-step between my mask and the wreck. Yeech. Gloomy, dark, yeech.
While the WA photogs cursed their stars, and the Macro'istas drilled into the corynactis carpets, Ken Liu and I marked the anchor site by draping cave line across the debris. This wreck is in a very active boating/shipping lane, and ascending the anchor line is VERY IMPORTANT for safety. I've never missed the anchor line here in dozens of dives because I'm very careful to mark it if viz is limited.
We deployed the X-scooters, flashed "OK" signs, and ... we were OUTTA THERE!!! We zoomed along the starboard side of this 300-foot long debris field that's goal-posted by the upright stern section and the REALLY Tall-and-Upright bow section. It was like motoring up to a sky-scraper in a dark fog bank as we nearly ran into the bow. We did find the huge bowsprit cantilevered out over the sand and draped with rusty 8-inch links of chain from the old clipper ship.
We rounded the bow and zoomed back down the port side, pausing occasionally to peer into the deep spaces beneath massive iron sheets. It was just too dark to see much.
We returned to the stern, to join 4 other divers searching rather urgently. The anchor. It wasn't where we left it. We found out later that the anchor had been moved without leaving any kind of signal or sign to indicate it's new position... in 7 foot visibility. Great. 2 people stumbled upon the upline. Two others and Ken L. and I found an abandoned anchor with line that ended in open sand... and we did open ascents in current, surfacing damn far from the boat. The captain had asked that someone untangle the anchor if it looked trapped "before you all come up," but it never occurred to me that this action in bad vis could result in half the divers on the boat being unable to find the anchor. Interesting.
Ken Liu and I were eager to move out to deeper water and (hopefully) better viz.
Oil Rig Eureka:
11:15 AM, 101fsw Max, 52F, 32%, 55-minute run time.
Dozens of sleeping sealions on the lowest catwalks roused themselves as the SeaBass backed up to this gigantic oil rig, sitting in 650 feet of water. We peeled off like paratroopers, and Ken L. and I scootered into the center of the rig. Currents were pushing pretty hard as we confirmed our dive plan and sank from the rig-shaded surface. The sun was now shining, and there was only one place I wanted to be: On the Sunny Side of the Rig! We dropped through the huge blue/green cage, and I marveled again at the odd feeling of a fast descent in this limitless space.... the numbers on my depth gauge blinked by SO FAST!!! We hovered to a stop at 100fsw, gave the scooters their heads, and roared over toward the beautifully back-lit pilings and cross-bracings.
I LOVE RIG DIVING!!
- my HID light illuminates tiny translucent jellies in the shaded water column.
- throngs of invertebrates encrust the rig structure, with corynactis in 5 colors.
- snowy white mats of metridium glow in the half-light.
- Ambush-hunting cabezons camouflage like lions in tall grass.
- ...and scooters make it irresistable to barrel-race around the bars, pipes, pilings, cables, cross-braces and hook structures.
Fun, FUN dive, and then it was time for lunch in the lovely sunshine on a gleaming blue sea. Was it really raining this morning? Hard to believe.
Oil Rig Ellie:
1:50 PM, 113fsw Max, 51F, 32%, 55 minute run time.
This rig sits in only 250 feet of water, and I expected the visibility to be reduced. It's a great rig to dive, with different structure than Eureka, but in my limited experience the viz has been less than Eureka.
NOT TODAY!!! Ken L. and I had discussed keeping this dive above 80fsw so we could enjoy a longer dive. Great plan... until we plummeted to 80, arrested into a hover, and looked down into...... well, into water we couldn't even see.
It was clear, transparent... as insubstantial as air.
Quick signals amended the dive plan, and we dropped like airplanes down out of the clouds, into clear "air" and unlimited vistas. I looked at Ken L. in shock... there just wasn't anything between us or holding us up. Wow.
Huge pilings poured downwards into midnight blue water way, way far away. Sunlit pillars of all colors rose up to the cloudy sky above us.
And we flew the x-scooters. Over, around, upside down (
Our time at depth was limited, and we rose up to mingle with even thicker schools of those shimmering little silver fish.
Extended shallower stops were a blast as we raced down the narrow corridors of pipes, grateful for HIDs that kept us in safe communication in this fun-house maze.
I was settling down, getting ready for final ascent, when the sea lions dropped down on us like balloons from the ceiling at a New Year's Eve party. Of course we had to swirl and spin and make giggling eye-contact with these big and little puppies.
The Sea Bass was right there to welcome us back aboard for a sunny cruise back to San Pedro.
Thanks to Captain Richard, Earl and Greg for unfailing skill, assistance and good cheer. The SeaBass crew rules!
Thank you, Mr. Liu, for thoughtful, safe and fun diving throughout the day. I had a great time and learned a lot.
Happy Memorial Day, and Tons of Appreciation to All our countrymen and women in the Armed Forces. You're the best, and always remembered.
~~~~
Claudette
__________________
