sambolino44
Contributor
It's nice to get away from the norm for special occasions, and we really hoped to get over to Vancouver Island, or at least the British Columbia coast north of Vancouver, but we've spent so much on dive gear lately we had to set our sights a little closer to home. Not to mention the fact that planning is not a strong suit in our family, so when you just jump in the car and go, sometimes you have to settle for what's available.
We packed after I got off work Friday, picked up our tanks at the Whidbey Island Dive Center (thanks for the birthday present, Pat!) and headed to the Keystone Ferry with no reservations. Luckily, we only had to wait a few hours for the next available spot, and we spent the time roaming the staging area for the Keystone Jetty dive site (no divers?!?), and getting a bite to eat at the Keystone Cafe.
It was already getting late by the time we made it to Port Townsend, so we immediately got down to looking for a campsite at Fort Worden State Park. No such luck; all campgrounds were full, but Betty remembered that there's a Youth Hostel at the park, and we found it easily. The only beds available were in a private room, which was quite a bit more expensive than we wanted, but by then we were pretty tired and I did not feel like scouting for a campsite in other campgrounds without the guarantee that we would get one, so we took it. The hostel was a cheerful place, with a friendly guy named Scott working the counter. We had a simple dinner of dried soup mix and some deli salads we'd picked up at the P.T. Food Co-op, and then out for a moonlit walk on the beach. As usual, I poop out before Betty's had her fill of moonlight (this is the story about my 52nd, not 25th birthday, after all!), so it's a bit hard to be romantic when I can barely keep my eyes open, but we made it back to the room without completely breaking up. I took advantage of the expensive accommodations by taking a hot shower and a shave (important to get that mask to seal!), which would not have been as nice at a campsite.
Saturday morning, my birthday, broke with bright sunshine and free coffee and fresh home-made raisin bread upstairs in the community kitchen. We discussed our dive plans amid the other travelers, young and old, from far and wide. Should we go all the way down to Sunrise Beach near Gig Harbor, try our luck at the Octopus Hole on Hood Canal, or just see what we can find in Port Townsend? In the end we decided we'd rather spend our time doing something other than driving the car all day, so we made our way to the Northwest Maritime Center, right across the marina entrance from Point Hudson in downtown Port Townsend. We've dived here before, but only once or twice, and long enough ago that it didn't seem like we were doing the same old thing. We parked out on the street in front of the Salmon Club lot and started gearing up.
As much as I complain about never getting enough warm weather around here, when I'm suiting up in my drysuit a little shade or breeze is always welcome, but it was not meant to be. I carried my heavy gear down to the beach before suiting up, but Betty chose to get everything ready at the car. Once we get those suits zipped up it's always a challenge to get into the water as quickly as possible, while expending as little energy as possible to keep from getting all sweaty. If we've planned well and laid everything out so it's all available to put on in the correct order things can go very smoothly. But one seemingly small thing out of place can put the whole shebang out of whack. Even a simple thing like having to make one extra trip back to the car can transform a cool, calm, and collected diver into a panting, soaking wet, stressed unhappy camper. This time was in between the extremes, not the smoothest operation, but we made it to the water without totally killing our positive vibes. Besides, we both have so much experience dealing with absent-mindedness we are pretty good at clearing our heads and getting to the task at hand once we get into the water.
We entered at the boat ramp as several 4-person rowing shells were pulling up to shore, and as I was donning my rig I had a pleasant chat with a curious rower/diver. After our buddy check and bubble check, we surface-swam under the pier over to the dolphin just southwest of the marina entrance. Our plan was to submerge at the dolphin and look for the wreck of the barge east of there. We both carried cameras, but had no real photo plans other than just taking whatever shots opportunity provided. And opportunity smiled on us. We found the barge and it was full of life; plenty of plumose anemones and lots of rockfish of various types just hanging around.
We found a huge Giant Pacific Octopus in its lair, and (he? she?) would occasionally
probe curiously with an arm. I got some video footage that I hope will be worth sharing. There was a bit of current pulling us eastward, away from our exit point, so we turned back with a healthy reserve of gas. It was easy enough to find our way back with a combination of natural and compass navigation.
Besides the great diving, two other important reasons we like this site are the public restrooms and the outdoor freshwater shower for rinsing our gear. As we took care of that chore a wedding party was out on the beach taking photos, so the whole atmosphere was cheery and bright. We crammed all our wet gear back into our tiny car, dropped the cylinders off at the Admiralty Dive shop for refills, and headed for a picnic lunch on the other sided of the point - the north shore of Point Wilson at Fort Worden State Park. Despite a cool breeze, and the efforts of a hungry crow to attack our bag of chips, we had a nice sunny lunch of sandwiches and fruit. We had to hide from the sun under a towel to review the morning's photos and movies. In my constant battle between being too hot or too cold, I found a warm spot in the sun and out of the wind on the tailgate of our car. No sooner had I just laid down for a nice, warm nap, than I heard a plaintive cry, "What the heck are you DOING?" I guess there's no time for a birthday nap when there are dive plans to discuss.
With no concrete plans, and no place to stay, our future was as wide open as the clear blue sky above us, but I wanted to avoid a desperate, last-minute search for accommodations that would end up like last night, paying through the nose. We dropped into the park office and learned that there were a few campsites available at nearby Fort Townsend State Park, so off we went, picking up our cylinders on the way. The only un-claimed sites were in the RV area, but we found a nice, shady spot at the end of the row, and it was far enough away from the generators and noisemakers that it suited us just fine. Once the tent was up (after a battle with a recalcitrant zipper!), and the fee paid, it was back to the diving!
Where now? Why not go visit the octopus again? Or something like that.
This time we decided to gear up and enter closer to the dolphin, with less of a surface swim, so we parked down at the end of the block and entered on the marina side of the Northwest Maritime Center. Even though the sun was still bright, it was a bit cooler, so I geared up completely at the car and made one trip to the beach with everything ready to go, as did my buddy.
Now, here's where our experience and familiarity led to a casual attitude about planning, communication, and buddy-checking, but more on that later. We got out to the same descent point by the dolphin, did a quick bubble check and vaguely discussed what we were going to do: back to the same general area as last dive, but if the current is too strong, go back up to the kelp bed in shallower water.
As we began our descent, Betty didn't make it very far: some kind of trouble and went back up. I saw her from below, but my own buoyancy control was not the best, and as I kept an eye on her at the surface, I was trying to do a slow controlled ascent, but didn't get very far. I guess I was afraid of losing control and shooting up too fast, so I was going up super- (too-) slowly. By the time I got up to about 13 ft. she was on her way back down; she'd forgotten to attach her drysuit inflation hose, and her buddy didn't catch it on the buddy check. OK, now to the dive.
I started following one of the ropes on the bottom; from the dolphin to what I thought would be the wrecked barge. The current was stronger this time, heading east toward our destination. Betty kept higher than me and after a while, signaled to me to head up to the top of the slope; she didn't want to go back down deep in that current. So we turned back toward the beach, got to the kelp bed in about 15 ft. and headed back west against the current, taking pictures of all the little critters in the kelp. She kept finding nudibranchs to take pictures of, and there were quite a few curious rockfish hanging around, plus a ling cod here and there and a few gunnels. My camera batteries died before too long, so I was just basically hanging out looking at stuff, and watching her take pictures.
The current was much less at the shallower depth, and at only 15 feet, those cylinders can last a long time. Our decision to head back to the shore was determined more by how cold we were and how badly we had to pee than by remaining gas or no decompression limits. Still, we had time to check out a large Lewis' Moon Snail trundling across the sand.
Once back on land, I learned how badly I'd misunderstood my buddy's idea of the plan, or basically just hadn't thought or talked about it at all. I was thinking we were going to go deeper; she wanted to stay shallower. I was more comfortable with the current; she didn't want to have to fight it all the way back. Mainly, though, we learned that we can't just go underwater without a clear mutual understanding of our plan and our contingencies. Lesson learned, hopefully.
After rinsing, dressing, and packing once again, while the wedding party was rocking out at the sound of classic hits, we strolled westward to look for a pleasant place to fill out our dive logs over a nice meal. We found a new cozy diner, the Banana Leaf Thai restaurant. A couple of local beers and some fresh vegetables with five kinds of mushrooms were just the ticket. And when the young friendly owner found out it was my birthday, he treated us to a new specialty desert served on a banana leaf that doesn't even have a name yet. It was lovely. An after-dinner walk down to the marina let us look at all the boats fantasizing which one was the best for diving. Finally back at our tent, I slept like the proverbial log.
We packed after I got off work Friday, picked up our tanks at the Whidbey Island Dive Center (thanks for the birthday present, Pat!) and headed to the Keystone Ferry with no reservations. Luckily, we only had to wait a few hours for the next available spot, and we spent the time roaming the staging area for the Keystone Jetty dive site (no divers?!?), and getting a bite to eat at the Keystone Cafe.
It was already getting late by the time we made it to Port Townsend, so we immediately got down to looking for a campsite at Fort Worden State Park. No such luck; all campgrounds were full, but Betty remembered that there's a Youth Hostel at the park, and we found it easily. The only beds available were in a private room, which was quite a bit more expensive than we wanted, but by then we were pretty tired and I did not feel like scouting for a campsite in other campgrounds without the guarantee that we would get one, so we took it. The hostel was a cheerful place, with a friendly guy named Scott working the counter. We had a simple dinner of dried soup mix and some deli salads we'd picked up at the P.T. Food Co-op, and then out for a moonlit walk on the beach. As usual, I poop out before Betty's had her fill of moonlight (this is the story about my 52nd, not 25th birthday, after all!), so it's a bit hard to be romantic when I can barely keep my eyes open, but we made it back to the room without completely breaking up. I took advantage of the expensive accommodations by taking a hot shower and a shave (important to get that mask to seal!), which would not have been as nice at a campsite.
Saturday morning, my birthday, broke with bright sunshine and free coffee and fresh home-made raisin bread upstairs in the community kitchen. We discussed our dive plans amid the other travelers, young and old, from far and wide. Should we go all the way down to Sunrise Beach near Gig Harbor, try our luck at the Octopus Hole on Hood Canal, or just see what we can find in Port Townsend? In the end we decided we'd rather spend our time doing something other than driving the car all day, so we made our way to the Northwest Maritime Center, right across the marina entrance from Point Hudson in downtown Port Townsend. We've dived here before, but only once or twice, and long enough ago that it didn't seem like we were doing the same old thing. We parked out on the street in front of the Salmon Club lot and started gearing up.
As much as I complain about never getting enough warm weather around here, when I'm suiting up in my drysuit a little shade or breeze is always welcome, but it was not meant to be. I carried my heavy gear down to the beach before suiting up, but Betty chose to get everything ready at the car. Once we get those suits zipped up it's always a challenge to get into the water as quickly as possible, while expending as little energy as possible to keep from getting all sweaty. If we've planned well and laid everything out so it's all available to put on in the correct order things can go very smoothly. But one seemingly small thing out of place can put the whole shebang out of whack. Even a simple thing like having to make one extra trip back to the car can transform a cool, calm, and collected diver into a panting, soaking wet, stressed unhappy camper. This time was in between the extremes, not the smoothest operation, but we made it to the water without totally killing our positive vibes. Besides, we both have so much experience dealing with absent-mindedness we are pretty good at clearing our heads and getting to the task at hand once we get into the water.
We entered at the boat ramp as several 4-person rowing shells were pulling up to shore, and as I was donning my rig I had a pleasant chat with a curious rower/diver. After our buddy check and bubble check, we surface-swam under the pier over to the dolphin just southwest of the marina entrance. Our plan was to submerge at the dolphin and look for the wreck of the barge east of there. We both carried cameras, but had no real photo plans other than just taking whatever shots opportunity provided. And opportunity smiled on us. We found the barge and it was full of life; plenty of plumose anemones and lots of rockfish of various types just hanging around.
We found a huge Giant Pacific Octopus in its lair, and (he? she?) would occasionally
probe curiously with an arm. I got some video footage that I hope will be worth sharing. There was a bit of current pulling us eastward, away from our exit point, so we turned back with a healthy reserve of gas. It was easy enough to find our way back with a combination of natural and compass navigation.
Besides the great diving, two other important reasons we like this site are the public restrooms and the outdoor freshwater shower for rinsing our gear. As we took care of that chore a wedding party was out on the beach taking photos, so the whole atmosphere was cheery and bright. We crammed all our wet gear back into our tiny car, dropped the cylinders off at the Admiralty Dive shop for refills, and headed for a picnic lunch on the other sided of the point - the north shore of Point Wilson at Fort Worden State Park. Despite a cool breeze, and the efforts of a hungry crow to attack our bag of chips, we had a nice sunny lunch of sandwiches and fruit. We had to hide from the sun under a towel to review the morning's photos and movies. In my constant battle between being too hot or too cold, I found a warm spot in the sun and out of the wind on the tailgate of our car. No sooner had I just laid down for a nice, warm nap, than I heard a plaintive cry, "What the heck are you DOING?" I guess there's no time for a birthday nap when there are dive plans to discuss.
With no concrete plans, and no place to stay, our future was as wide open as the clear blue sky above us, but I wanted to avoid a desperate, last-minute search for accommodations that would end up like last night, paying through the nose. We dropped into the park office and learned that there were a few campsites available at nearby Fort Townsend State Park, so off we went, picking up our cylinders on the way. The only un-claimed sites were in the RV area, but we found a nice, shady spot at the end of the row, and it was far enough away from the generators and noisemakers that it suited us just fine. Once the tent was up (after a battle with a recalcitrant zipper!), and the fee paid, it was back to the diving!
Where now? Why not go visit the octopus again? Or something like that.
This time we decided to gear up and enter closer to the dolphin, with less of a surface swim, so we parked down at the end of the block and entered on the marina side of the Northwest Maritime Center. Even though the sun was still bright, it was a bit cooler, so I geared up completely at the car and made one trip to the beach with everything ready to go, as did my buddy.
Now, here's where our experience and familiarity led to a casual attitude about planning, communication, and buddy-checking, but more on that later. We got out to the same descent point by the dolphin, did a quick bubble check and vaguely discussed what we were going to do: back to the same general area as last dive, but if the current is too strong, go back up to the kelp bed in shallower water.
As we began our descent, Betty didn't make it very far: some kind of trouble and went back up. I saw her from below, but my own buoyancy control was not the best, and as I kept an eye on her at the surface, I was trying to do a slow controlled ascent, but didn't get very far. I guess I was afraid of losing control and shooting up too fast, so I was going up super- (too-) slowly. By the time I got up to about 13 ft. she was on her way back down; she'd forgotten to attach her drysuit inflation hose, and her buddy didn't catch it on the buddy check. OK, now to the dive.
I started following one of the ropes on the bottom; from the dolphin to what I thought would be the wrecked barge. The current was stronger this time, heading east toward our destination. Betty kept higher than me and after a while, signaled to me to head up to the top of the slope; she didn't want to go back down deep in that current. So we turned back toward the beach, got to the kelp bed in about 15 ft. and headed back west against the current, taking pictures of all the little critters in the kelp. She kept finding nudibranchs to take pictures of, and there were quite a few curious rockfish hanging around, plus a ling cod here and there and a few gunnels. My camera batteries died before too long, so I was just basically hanging out looking at stuff, and watching her take pictures.
The current was much less at the shallower depth, and at only 15 feet, those cylinders can last a long time. Our decision to head back to the shore was determined more by how cold we were and how badly we had to pee than by remaining gas or no decompression limits. Still, we had time to check out a large Lewis' Moon Snail trundling across the sand.
Once back on land, I learned how badly I'd misunderstood my buddy's idea of the plan, or basically just hadn't thought or talked about it at all. I was thinking we were going to go deeper; she wanted to stay shallower. I was more comfortable with the current; she didn't want to have to fight it all the way back. Mainly, though, we learned that we can't just go underwater without a clear mutual understanding of our plan and our contingencies. Lesson learned, hopefully.
After rinsing, dressing, and packing once again, while the wedding party was rocking out at the sound of classic hits, we strolled westward to look for a pleasant place to fill out our dive logs over a nice meal. We found a new cozy diner, the Banana Leaf Thai restaurant. A couple of local beers and some fresh vegetables with five kinds of mushrooms were just the ticket. And when the young friendly owner found out it was my birthday, he treated us to a new specialty desert served on a banana leaf that doesn't even have a name yet. It was lovely. An after-dinner walk down to the marina let us look at all the boats fantasizing which one was the best for diving. Finally back at our tent, I slept like the proverbial log.
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