- Messages
- 100,974
- Reaction score
- 104,301
- Location
- On the Fun Side of Trump's Wall
- # of dives
- 2500 - 4999
Got to The Office last night for my usual Thursday night dive ... not another car in sight. No divers ... no one fishing off the pier ... not even an occasional pedestrian. Haven't seen it that lonely in a long time. Our usual meet time came and no one had showed up for the dive ... hmmm ... does everyone else know something I don't know?
I walked out on the pier and looked down at the water. It had an unhealthy brown color to it, and looking down a piling I could see maybe a foot. The wind was blowing, and with the 38 degree temperature, it was downright chilly. Maybe it won't be so bad if no one shows ... but I figured I'd give it a while, so I got in the car and waited.
About 15 minutes later, one of my usual dive gang showed. We talked about conditions, and decided that, what the hell, let's go diving.
Geared up, did our checks, and surface swam out to the buoy where we usually start our dive. It was obvious that the top layer was fresh-water runoff, very murky and very ... very ... cold. We didn't delay our descent, and dropping down through the first few feet was like being suspended in a murky ... and refrigerated ... Italian dressing. From a distance of about 3 feet we could just about see each other's lights.
But at about 6 feet ... like a blanket ... we dropped through the halocline. Not only did vis clear up to a very nice 20-25 feet ... but the water temp went up about six degrees as well. Nice ... maybe this wasn't such a bad idea.
Unfortunately, we only got to enjoy the nice vis for about 3 or 4 minutes. The signs were there almost from the beginning ... the little wisps of kelp floating against the current ... the little silt tornadoes ... we had visitors. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that we were the visitors, and our hosts had showed up to greet us ... two adult harbor seals and one very small pup. Ah ... winter in Elliot Bay ... this is what we're going to have to look forward to for the next three months.
At first they maintained their distance ... just close enough that we could see them in the beam of our lights. But as we made our way down the line to our first objective ... the dolphins at around 100 feet ... they became less wary. Or perhaps they were just a little slow getting into the social scene. Like all good hosts, they made sure we were properly entertained, and didn't feel like they were ignoring us ... making high-speed passes in front of our masks, darting barrel-rolls around us, and occasionally ... just to make sure we were properly appreciating all the effort ... squeezing beneath us, sandwiching themselves between our bodies and the bottom. A couple times I could feel a slight pressure on my chest and stomach as they pushed through the silt.
And what a mess they made ... vis dropped to total silt-out quite a few times. I was really glad to be doing this with a buddy I was familiar with and trusted to stay where I expected him to be.
Now, let me pause a moment to point out that it was the two adults who were getting so friendly at this point. I knew there was a third seal out there by the visual "clues" ... but so far I hadn't noticed that it was a pup. He (or she) was keeping a careful distance ... probably having never seen divers before, and wary of something that was big enough to maybe enjoy a tasty seal pup snack. But as the dive progressed, I think the little critter started to realize the value of dining by dive light ... he finally made a wary pass ... darting away almost as soon as I noticed. It was a cute little thing ... roughly the size of a mottled gray basketball with a head and a tail.
We progressed from the dolphins to the I-beams to the jackstraw pilings to the Honey Bear ... the usual cove tour ... and they stayed with us the entire time (after all, we were the only "guests" in the cove) and were getting friendlier as the dive progressed. A few times they would bump into us, or stop and try to nibble on a fin or a glove ... but the pup kept its distance. Finally, we left the Honey Bear and headed back to the entry. At about 20 feet I suddenly felt a pressure on my left arm, and my dive light was forced up a couple inches. Looking over I realized I had this cuddly little basketball tucked up underneath my arm ... shades of Junior ... the pup had adopted me ...
Mindful of the outcry from a few disgruntled divers last time I interacted with a seal pup, I did my best to just ignore the little fella and continue my dive. After a few seconds, he swam away ... only to return a minute or so later and try to snuggle in on the other side. Nope ... you're not a cat ... go find a daddy seal to read you a bedtime story or something.
The three of them followed us all the way to the entrance ... and when we stood up to take off our fins, three heads popped out of the water ... staring at us with those liquid black eyes as if to tell us they weren't done playing yet.
But by that time there were a few other divers gearing up in the parking lot. I'm sure they had an entertaining evening with our winter dive hosts ...
... Bob (Grateful Diver)
I walked out on the pier and looked down at the water. It had an unhealthy brown color to it, and looking down a piling I could see maybe a foot. The wind was blowing, and with the 38 degree temperature, it was downright chilly. Maybe it won't be so bad if no one shows ... but I figured I'd give it a while, so I got in the car and waited.
About 15 minutes later, one of my usual dive gang showed. We talked about conditions, and decided that, what the hell, let's go diving.
Geared up, did our checks, and surface swam out to the buoy where we usually start our dive. It was obvious that the top layer was fresh-water runoff, very murky and very ... very ... cold. We didn't delay our descent, and dropping down through the first few feet was like being suspended in a murky ... and refrigerated ... Italian dressing. From a distance of about 3 feet we could just about see each other's lights.
But at about 6 feet ... like a blanket ... we dropped through the halocline. Not only did vis clear up to a very nice 20-25 feet ... but the water temp went up about six degrees as well. Nice ... maybe this wasn't such a bad idea.
Unfortunately, we only got to enjoy the nice vis for about 3 or 4 minutes. The signs were there almost from the beginning ... the little wisps of kelp floating against the current ... the little silt tornadoes ... we had visitors. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that we were the visitors, and our hosts had showed up to greet us ... two adult harbor seals and one very small pup. Ah ... winter in Elliot Bay ... this is what we're going to have to look forward to for the next three months.
At first they maintained their distance ... just close enough that we could see them in the beam of our lights. But as we made our way down the line to our first objective ... the dolphins at around 100 feet ... they became less wary. Or perhaps they were just a little slow getting into the social scene. Like all good hosts, they made sure we were properly entertained, and didn't feel like they were ignoring us ... making high-speed passes in front of our masks, darting barrel-rolls around us, and occasionally ... just to make sure we were properly appreciating all the effort ... squeezing beneath us, sandwiching themselves between our bodies and the bottom. A couple times I could feel a slight pressure on my chest and stomach as they pushed through the silt.
And what a mess they made ... vis dropped to total silt-out quite a few times. I was really glad to be doing this with a buddy I was familiar with and trusted to stay where I expected him to be.
Now, let me pause a moment to point out that it was the two adults who were getting so friendly at this point. I knew there was a third seal out there by the visual "clues" ... but so far I hadn't noticed that it was a pup. He (or she) was keeping a careful distance ... probably having never seen divers before, and wary of something that was big enough to maybe enjoy a tasty seal pup snack. But as the dive progressed, I think the little critter started to realize the value of dining by dive light ... he finally made a wary pass ... darting away almost as soon as I noticed. It was a cute little thing ... roughly the size of a mottled gray basketball with a head and a tail.
We progressed from the dolphins to the I-beams to the jackstraw pilings to the Honey Bear ... the usual cove tour ... and they stayed with us the entire time (after all, we were the only "guests" in the cove) and were getting friendlier as the dive progressed. A few times they would bump into us, or stop and try to nibble on a fin or a glove ... but the pup kept its distance. Finally, we left the Honey Bear and headed back to the entry. At about 20 feet I suddenly felt a pressure on my left arm, and my dive light was forced up a couple inches. Looking over I realized I had this cuddly little basketball tucked up underneath my arm ... shades of Junior ... the pup had adopted me ...
Mindful of the outcry from a few disgruntled divers last time I interacted with a seal pup, I did my best to just ignore the little fella and continue my dive. After a few seconds, he swam away ... only to return a minute or so later and try to snuggle in on the other side. Nope ... you're not a cat ... go find a daddy seal to read you a bedtime story or something.
The three of them followed us all the way to the entrance ... and when we stood up to take off our fins, three heads popped out of the water ... staring at us with those liquid black eyes as if to tell us they weren't done playing yet.
But by that time there were a few other divers gearing up in the parking lot. I'm sure they had an entertaining evening with our winter dive hosts ...
... Bob (Grateful Diver)
