Paladin
Contributor
Shackle,
No, not Nickajack. It was in Kentucky.
No, not Nickajack. It was in Kentucky.
Vintage Diving Stories?
- Thread starter RickI
- Start date
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Holy crap man! Now that's a buddy right there.
Paladin
Contributor
Slonda828,
Fuzz was the best friend and dive buddy a man could ask for. He saved my bacon on several occasions. He was always ready to lend a helping hand to anyone who needed it. He was the consummate Christian who lived his faith to the fullest. He was fond of saying "I am third. God is first, other people are second and I am third." He would give you his last dollar and never ask for anything in return. I remember, one time, when he let his mortgage payment go so that he could buy groceries for the family of a man who had lost his job. That was his way. He was always smiling and I never saw him angry. He took life with an unmatched sense of humor. To this day, I often repeat one of his mottoes: "Don't take life too seriously because you're never gonna get out of it alive!"
He died in a flash flood in the spring of 1993 trying to swim to a woman trapped in a car that had washed into a swollen creek.
Yeah, he was a terrific dive buddy and a good friend.
Fuzz was the best friend and dive buddy a man could ask for. He saved my bacon on several occasions. He was always ready to lend a helping hand to anyone who needed it. He was the consummate Christian who lived his faith to the fullest. He was fond of saying "I am third. God is first, other people are second and I am third." He would give you his last dollar and never ask for anything in return. I remember, one time, when he let his mortgage payment go so that he could buy groceries for the family of a man who had lost his job. That was his way. He was always smiling and I never saw him angry. He took life with an unmatched sense of humor. To this day, I often repeat one of his mottoes: "Don't take life too seriously because you're never gonna get out of it alive!"
He died in a flash flood in the spring of 1993 trying to swim to a woman trapped in a car that had washed into a swollen creek.
Yeah, he was a terrific dive buddy and a good friend.
To borrow from Thompson, that man was a prototype, never meant for mass production. People that special are a gift. I wish I could grow to be half as selfless as your friend.
Paladin
Contributor
Me, too, my friend, me too.
David Wilson
Contributor
Here's an anecdote I've retrieved from a forum other than Scubaboard. It relates to a recent event when I was vintage snorkelling.
For many years I did my swimming in the lakes of Minneapolis in the American Upper Midwest, where I travelled each summer to spend time with my brother, who lives and works there. During the very hot summers there, an hour's dip in one of the lakes was just "what the doctor ordered".
In 2005, the doctor ordered something different, an operation to remove my cancerous prostate gland. After years of never darkening a medical practitioner's door, I found myself undergoing major abdominal surgery for the first time in my life. Fortunately for me, I had a full recovery. As I was then in my late 50s, the health professionals began to take more of an interest in me and I began to get annual checkups. I was advised during one of these sessions to take more exercise.
I've never seen any point in exercise just for the sake of it, so I decided to pursue the two physical activities that appealed to me most: walking and swimming. In the case of walking, I soon found an old colliery waggonway with agreeable views and pleasant rural surroundings, a walk several miles in length, ending with a visit to a shop where I could buy my morning newspaper. As for swimming, I tried my local swimming pool, but hated the excessive heat, the fact that I was expected to swim up and down roped-off lanes in the same boring way as I had done in my youth, and that I wasn't allowed to swim with fins, which I love using.
One early morning I decided to drive to the coast to go swimming off a sandy North Sea beach. Clad in my Hydroglove replica vintage drysuit and wearing an oval dive mask, all-rubber full-foot fins and a simple J-shaped snorkel, I enjoyed one of the best hours of my life swimming about in the waves. The bay where I swam was almost devoid of wildlife, despite public notices warning of the possible presence of seal pups and requesting dogwalkers to keep their pets under control. Strands of seaweed and a few small jellyfish were the only flora and fauna I came across and I felt pretty safe from the latter thanks to my drysuit and the fins on my feet. After my swim I emerged warm and refreshed, determined to repeat the experience each weekend morning, weather and sea-state permitting.
One subsequent weekend morning I went down to the coast for my swim in the early morning, the sun barely above the horizon. I chose to swim at dawn because I valued the solitude and I didn't like an audience. I put on my suit and other gear, walked down to the sea's edge and proceeded to swim. A while later I turned round to face the coast and spotted two policemen gazing seawards at me. They waved and I slowly came ashore. They came over and explained that they had observed me in the water and wondered what I was doing. They presumed that I was either attempting suicide or that I was a North Korean spy landing from an enemy ship far out to sea. The North Korean spy idea wasn't too far-fetched, considering I still swim with the old-fashioned black snorkelling gear that was popular in the 1950s and 1960s. The two bobbies expressed surprise that I had chosen that particular bay to swim as there were no fish, or any other wildlife for that matter, to observe. I replied that the idea was to get fit and that the glorious view of the rising sun was enough of an incentive for me to swim there and at such an early hour. The policemen and I then parted company, I relieved that I hadn't broken some obscure by-law or "health and safety" regulation, they pleased to have had a "human seal" break the monotony of their night-shift.
I've swum regularly in the same spot for over four years now, but never again have I had an encounter with our "boys in blue". However, I'm still regarded with some suspicion by the local beach dogwalkers. I'm always concerned when I see their canines being let off the leash because they always seem to rush, barking in my direction when I'm splashing away above the waves. I have to say, though, that the worst that's ever happened to me dog-wise is when one pooch picked up and ran away with one of my spare fins. The owner retrieved it and replaced it, sheepishly, on my pile of clothing.
I'm looking forward to resuming normal business as soon as spring comes round. My suit, fins, mask and snorkel are waiting in the cupboard, ready to come out of hibernation when it's time. The great thing is that I'm now retired and don't have to wait until the weekend if the weather's good and the sea's calm!
For many years I did my swimming in the lakes of Minneapolis in the American Upper Midwest, where I travelled each summer to spend time with my brother, who lives and works there. During the very hot summers there, an hour's dip in one of the lakes was just "what the doctor ordered".
In 2005, the doctor ordered something different, an operation to remove my cancerous prostate gland. After years of never darkening a medical practitioner's door, I found myself undergoing major abdominal surgery for the first time in my life. Fortunately for me, I had a full recovery. As I was then in my late 50s, the health professionals began to take more of an interest in me and I began to get annual checkups. I was advised during one of these sessions to take more exercise.
I've never seen any point in exercise just for the sake of it, so I decided to pursue the two physical activities that appealed to me most: walking and swimming. In the case of walking, I soon found an old colliery waggonway with agreeable views and pleasant rural surroundings, a walk several miles in length, ending with a visit to a shop where I could buy my morning newspaper. As for swimming, I tried my local swimming pool, but hated the excessive heat, the fact that I was expected to swim up and down roped-off lanes in the same boring way as I had done in my youth, and that I wasn't allowed to swim with fins, which I love using.
One early morning I decided to drive to the coast to go swimming off a sandy North Sea beach. Clad in my Hydroglove replica vintage drysuit and wearing an oval dive mask, all-rubber full-foot fins and a simple J-shaped snorkel, I enjoyed one of the best hours of my life swimming about in the waves. The bay where I swam was almost devoid of wildlife, despite public notices warning of the possible presence of seal pups and requesting dogwalkers to keep their pets under control. Strands of seaweed and a few small jellyfish were the only flora and fauna I came across and I felt pretty safe from the latter thanks to my drysuit and the fins on my feet. After my swim I emerged warm and refreshed, determined to repeat the experience each weekend morning, weather and sea-state permitting.
One subsequent weekend morning I went down to the coast for my swim in the early morning, the sun barely above the horizon. I chose to swim at dawn because I valued the solitude and I didn't like an audience. I put on my suit and other gear, walked down to the sea's edge and proceeded to swim. A while later I turned round to face the coast and spotted two policemen gazing seawards at me. They waved and I slowly came ashore. They came over and explained that they had observed me in the water and wondered what I was doing. They presumed that I was either attempting suicide or that I was a North Korean spy landing from an enemy ship far out to sea. The North Korean spy idea wasn't too far-fetched, considering I still swim with the old-fashioned black snorkelling gear that was popular in the 1950s and 1960s. The two bobbies expressed surprise that I had chosen that particular bay to swim as there were no fish, or any other wildlife for that matter, to observe. I replied that the idea was to get fit and that the glorious view of the rising sun was enough of an incentive for me to swim there and at such an early hour. The policemen and I then parted company, I relieved that I hadn't broken some obscure by-law or "health and safety" regulation, they pleased to have had a "human seal" break the monotony of their night-shift.
I've swum regularly in the same spot for over four years now, but never again have I had an encounter with our "boys in blue". However, I'm still regarded with some suspicion by the local beach dogwalkers. I'm always concerned when I see their canines being let off the leash because they always seem to rush, barking in my direction when I'm splashing away above the waves. I have to say, though, that the worst that's ever happened to me dog-wise is when one pooch picked up and ran away with one of my spare fins. The owner retrieved it and replaced it, sheepishly, on my pile of clothing.
I'm looking forward to resuming normal business as soon as spring comes round. My suit, fins, mask and snorkel are waiting in the cupboard, ready to come out of hibernation when it's time. The great thing is that I'm now retired and don't have to wait until the weekend if the weather's good and the sea's calm!
OP
RickI
Contributor
Nice story David, thank you for telling it. I'm glad taking the waters is doing the trick and the police left you in peace. What are the typical water temperatures anyway? I had a nasty nerve impingement from a skiing accident set to rights by swimming in the ocean, not fresh. Something about how things streamed out in seawater made a significant difference. The ocean is a great place to be, speaking of which, more stories out there?
AfterDark
Contributor
These are great stories! As a youth I dived with a group called The Bay State Frogmen.
A great bunch guys ranging from the 30's to 40's old men to a 16 year old pup. One guy who kinda took me under his wing was Charlie he was at the tail end of the greatest generation. Old enough to remember WWII but not old enough to have served. Still forged from the same mettle as the rest,hard as nails but a kind and generous nature.
He always took me on dives he knew I was ready for even if I didn't think so! "Come on you ain't gona learn to dive unless you do it, just stay with me and if you feel like your gona s--- yourself let me know and we'll go up". So anyway the years go by and one day I was free diving / spearfishing around 1978 near a place called Kings Beach in Newport RI, I'm 27 I got my USD sharkskin 3/16" wetsuit with the zippers on the cuffs and ankles, a USD wraparound mask w/purge valve (never cut the rubber to expose the valve) USD Rocket fins and I think a USD large bore wrap around snorkel. And of course a USD Arbalete Champion speargun and 2 nice size Togs on my stringer hanging from my inner tube. If I ever felt a hard tug on my inner tube my plan was to let it go and get to shore or boat ASAP! So I'm coming out of the water walking backwards and walk right into Charlie! Or he walked up to me? He was in his 50's now still looked good hadn't seen him for 5 years. He's got a small rubberized bag.
I forgot to mention it's early May so the water is 55 give or take a few degrees. What I call cold. Charlie shucks his clothes down his swim trunks takes his mask, fins and snorkel from the bag and we proceed to make a 45min to 1 hour dive where Charlie shot 2 more Togs and a 30+lbs stripe bass that he killed instantly! That fish buckled once shook a couple of times and just went still. If he hadn't that fish would have dragged him around some but it never got the chance. We came out of the water Charlies skin was RED he didn't say a word and just shrugged it off when I asked him if he was cold. We dove few times more after that but his health was going down hill and his doctor was advising him to give up diving. He blamed his doctor for making him stop but Charlie stopped because he couldn't do it anymore. If he could have he would, doctor be damned. I can still visualize him swimming in that cold water like he was in a pool! Tough as nails!
A great bunch guys ranging from the 30's to 40's old men to a 16 year old pup. One guy who kinda took me under his wing was Charlie he was at the tail end of the greatest generation. Old enough to remember WWII but not old enough to have served. Still forged from the same mettle as the rest,hard as nails but a kind and generous nature.
He always took me on dives he knew I was ready for even if I didn't think so! "Come on you ain't gona learn to dive unless you do it, just stay with me and if you feel like your gona s--- yourself let me know and we'll go up". So anyway the years go by and one day I was free diving / spearfishing around 1978 near a place called Kings Beach in Newport RI, I'm 27 I got my USD sharkskin 3/16" wetsuit with the zippers on the cuffs and ankles, a USD wraparound mask w/purge valve (never cut the rubber to expose the valve) USD Rocket fins and I think a USD large bore wrap around snorkel. And of course a USD Arbalete Champion speargun and 2 nice size Togs on my stringer hanging from my inner tube. If I ever felt a hard tug on my inner tube my plan was to let it go and get to shore or boat ASAP! So I'm coming out of the water walking backwards and walk right into Charlie! Or he walked up to me? He was in his 50's now still looked good hadn't seen him for 5 years. He's got a small rubberized bag.
I forgot to mention it's early May so the water is 55 give or take a few degrees. What I call cold. Charlie shucks his clothes down his swim trunks takes his mask, fins and snorkel from the bag and we proceed to make a 45min to 1 hour dive where Charlie shot 2 more Togs and a 30+lbs stripe bass that he killed instantly! That fish buckled once shook a couple of times and just went still. If he hadn't that fish would have dragged him around some but it never got the chance. We came out of the water Charlies skin was RED he didn't say a word and just shrugged it off when I asked him if he was cold. We dove few times more after that but his health was going down hill and his doctor was advising him to give up diving. He blamed his doctor for making him stop but Charlie stopped because he couldn't do it anymore. If he could have he would, doctor be damned. I can still visualize him swimming in that cold water like he was in a pool! Tough as nails!
David Wilson
Contributor
The temperatures vary, of course, around the year. One British open water swimmer maintains an "open-water temperature" thread here:
The Open-Water Temperature Thread - SwimClub.co.uk Forums
There are 48 pages of readings over two years! Temperatures are quoted in Celsius and I would estimate that we are in single figures now here in UK coastal waters. A complicating factor is wind chill. I've occasionally snorkelled in the North Sea when the water was much warmer than the ambient temperature on the beach.
OP
RickI
Contributor
Great story AfterDark, reminds me of the early divers off California in all that cold water, just a swim suit. That was it. Speaking of chilly sounds like it is pretty cool over your way David. There is always the warming trends of spring to look forward to.
... and another story
Ships afloat resembling a 19th century wreck we dove off the cay
Just pulled another one out of the wayback machine from 1972. It deals with my first overseas dive trip, a weekend on Cay Sal Bank. Cay Sal is between the Florida Keys, the Bahamian Plateau (it is a Bahamian possession) and Cuba to the south. It is a remote, wild place with a lot of history tied up in smuggling. We were boarded and searched by a large USCG cutter and the trip before had the same from two Cuban gunboats. The Cold War was intense as ever. Diving is pretty interesting too.
More at: Diving Stories From Back In The Day
.
... and another story
Ships afloat resembling a 19th century wreck we dove off the cay
Just pulled another one out of the wayback machine from 1972. It deals with my first overseas dive trip, a weekend on Cay Sal Bank. Cay Sal is between the Florida Keys, the Bahamian Plateau (it is a Bahamian possession) and Cuba to the south. It is a remote, wild place with a lot of history tied up in smuggling. We were boarded and searched by a large USCG cutter and the trip before had the same from two Cuban gunboats. The Cold War was intense as ever. Diving is pretty interesting too.
More at: Diving Stories From Back In The Day
.
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