CCRDiverDave
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Ok, so I've been diving for 33 years now....meaning, I was a little urchin when I got certified.....kids nowadays are into computers, I was into hang gliding, flying sailplanes, diving, and everything with the word outdoor adventure in it. I was Mike Nelson, Chuck Yeager and Davey Crockett all rolled into one.
I laugh when I see drysuit training classes, it didn't exist back then, we just all figured everything out including switching over from being miserably cold in wetsuits to being toasty in drysuits....I was usually the only diver with a drysuit 25 years ago and back then we used them as BC's without a real BC......big mistake!
So I kept hearing about legendary lobsters at The Boilers at San Nicholas Island. This area is a completely wave swept area several miles off San Nicholas Island, one of the Channel Islands about 60 miles or so off of Southern California. They call them The Boilers because it is completely out in the open ocean with no protection, and wave swell action usually makes them undivable.
So I was diving on the Peace, a rather nice 65 foot commercial charter dive boat with a great reputation with an always competent Captain and crew. Same still goes for the new Captain/Owner and crew. We were just west of The Boilers, and the weather was not all that great, so everyone elected to dive about 300 yards west of The Boilers.
Well, the swim was not too far for this Mike Nelson wannabee, so I elected to do so underwater.....to stay out of the swell. Eventualy I made it, and came slowly shallow as I approached the area. The Boilers has half a dozen or so "pits" which are depressions worn out from wave action in the top surface of pinnacles that come up from 60 feet or so. These come within a few feet of the surface depending on the tide. These pits are about 20-30 feet or so across and about 5 feet deep into the tops of the pinnacles. I had always heard of huge lobsters in these pits, as the weather and accompanying washing machine keeps divers away. Inside each depression, the lobsters have no where to hide, but when no divers are present, who cares!
At the time of my arrival, I had to time entry into each depression. When the swell was at it's highest, I grabbed hand over hand and spilled over the edge, then fought to get to the bottom, holding onto the stronger kelp stalks, and for dear life I might add. Talk about Mr.Toads Wild Ride......
As long as I hugged the bottom, and held on with a G.I.-Joe with the KungFu grip, I was ok...after the 1st pit with no Larry the Legendary Lobster, I timed my way out, dragging myself over the edge, scrambling for 10 additional feet of depth so as not to get mashed, then I approached the next pit. This went on for about 15 minutes.....no lobster in half a dozen pits.....man was I bummed. Ok, so I am down to 1000 psi ( I dove open circuit those days) so I decided to swim underwater westward towards the boat.
Once down to 750 psi, up to the surface I went. The boat looked a good half mile away. Ok, so I add a little bit of air to my neoprene Jetsuit......and I started the swim I knew I could never make. Seems the weather had turned really nasty during my dive and on the surface, the skies were now ominously dark, the wind was now howling, the swell was now huge, and I was being dragged and blown inexorably south. That was all fine and dandy, if it were not for two things. The first is my drysuit had an air leak, but being neoprene, I was still warm anyways. The other issue was I was being dragged relentlessy straight to an area where the now 20 or so foot swells gathered more height and crashed over an area about 3/4 of a mile south of me.
When I bobbed at the top of each swell, I could see a maelstrom of white foam and sheer chaos south of me. I knew I couldn't maintain distance, so I continued my westward swim perpendicular away from the swells crashing over the shallows.
As the air leaked slowly out of my drysuit, I would get lower and lower in the water, rendering my snorkel moot. I had to keep adding air to my suit to stay at the surface. I tried for awhile to swim just under the surface when I got too low and switching to my reg and stopped topping off my suit, but it seemed like a tossup on which used more air. I didn't want to ditch my gear....at 20 or so years in age, that was quite an expense. But I didn't want to end up in that aqautic organ grinder and feel firsthand what it is like to be keelhauled or the lobsters would have their revenge on my sorry butt.
I finally was down to 150 or so psi, this time back to the surface trying the snorkel....I would try to time things when I bobbed the shallowest then kicked up a couple of feet, grabbed a quick breath off the snorkel, only to sink back down to 3-4 feet underwater.....half the time I got a little air others I swallowed some nasty water.... things were not looking good.
I finally decided that this had a predictable outcome, so figured I would ditch my weight belt.....and if I had to ditch my tank later, I could remove the reg and try to hang onto it.....so off the 22 lb weight belt went, and I was temporarily a kork. By now I had been dragged quite close to the washing machine that didn't look remotely survivable even if I had a BC and a full tank of air. As much as I swam, at the rate I was going I wasn't going to escape being blown and dragged to Davey Jones Locker.
Just then as I crested the next swell, I saw the Peace Captain come zipping over the top of a swell in the inflatable. It took him awhile to eventually get to me, but when he did, in spite of my state of exhaustion, I managed to pull my sorry butt tank and all right up and over the side in one fell swoop like a baitfish escaping a hungry tuna.
My first words to the Captain was: "You just save my sorry butt" and "I could have used you 20 minutes ago."
Twas no sooner then a minute or two after I dropped my weight belt that I spotted him. I might have been able to hold on without dropping it had I known.....
Apparently everyone else aborted their dives early and they were trying to find me in the mess, and didn't think I would be where I was due to the surface conditions.
On my next dive trip I had a shiny new large capacity safety organge colored BC.......Now when I do such a dive, I have a tall SMB AND a rolled up and stowed Halcyon flourescent orange downed pilot inflatable life raft.
Attached is an old photo of The Boilers on a calm day in good weather and the Halcyon liferaft I now employ.
I laugh when I see drysuit training classes, it didn't exist back then, we just all figured everything out including switching over from being miserably cold in wetsuits to being toasty in drysuits....I was usually the only diver with a drysuit 25 years ago and back then we used them as BC's without a real BC......big mistake!
So I kept hearing about legendary lobsters at The Boilers at San Nicholas Island. This area is a completely wave swept area several miles off San Nicholas Island, one of the Channel Islands about 60 miles or so off of Southern California. They call them The Boilers because it is completely out in the open ocean with no protection, and wave swell action usually makes them undivable.
So I was diving on the Peace, a rather nice 65 foot commercial charter dive boat with a great reputation with an always competent Captain and crew. Same still goes for the new Captain/Owner and crew. We were just west of The Boilers, and the weather was not all that great, so everyone elected to dive about 300 yards west of The Boilers.
Well, the swim was not too far for this Mike Nelson wannabee, so I elected to do so underwater.....to stay out of the swell. Eventualy I made it, and came slowly shallow as I approached the area. The Boilers has half a dozen or so "pits" which are depressions worn out from wave action in the top surface of pinnacles that come up from 60 feet or so. These come within a few feet of the surface depending on the tide. These pits are about 20-30 feet or so across and about 5 feet deep into the tops of the pinnacles. I had always heard of huge lobsters in these pits, as the weather and accompanying washing machine keeps divers away. Inside each depression, the lobsters have no where to hide, but when no divers are present, who cares!
At the time of my arrival, I had to time entry into each depression. When the swell was at it's highest, I grabbed hand over hand and spilled over the edge, then fought to get to the bottom, holding onto the stronger kelp stalks, and for dear life I might add. Talk about Mr.Toads Wild Ride......
As long as I hugged the bottom, and held on with a G.I.-Joe with the KungFu grip, I was ok...after the 1st pit with no Larry the Legendary Lobster, I timed my way out, dragging myself over the edge, scrambling for 10 additional feet of depth so as not to get mashed, then I approached the next pit. This went on for about 15 minutes.....no lobster in half a dozen pits.....man was I bummed. Ok, so I am down to 1000 psi ( I dove open circuit those days) so I decided to swim underwater westward towards the boat.
Once down to 750 psi, up to the surface I went. The boat looked a good half mile away. Ok, so I add a little bit of air to my neoprene Jetsuit......and I started the swim I knew I could never make. Seems the weather had turned really nasty during my dive and on the surface, the skies were now ominously dark, the wind was now howling, the swell was now huge, and I was being dragged and blown inexorably south. That was all fine and dandy, if it were not for two things. The first is my drysuit had an air leak, but being neoprene, I was still warm anyways. The other issue was I was being dragged relentlessy straight to an area where the now 20 or so foot swells gathered more height and crashed over an area about 3/4 of a mile south of me.
When I bobbed at the top of each swell, I could see a maelstrom of white foam and sheer chaos south of me. I knew I couldn't maintain distance, so I continued my westward swim perpendicular away from the swells crashing over the shallows.
As the air leaked slowly out of my drysuit, I would get lower and lower in the water, rendering my snorkel moot. I had to keep adding air to my suit to stay at the surface. I tried for awhile to swim just under the surface when I got too low and switching to my reg and stopped topping off my suit, but it seemed like a tossup on which used more air. I didn't want to ditch my gear....at 20 or so years in age, that was quite an expense. But I didn't want to end up in that aqautic organ grinder and feel firsthand what it is like to be keelhauled or the lobsters would have their revenge on my sorry butt.
I finally was down to 150 or so psi, this time back to the surface trying the snorkel....I would try to time things when I bobbed the shallowest then kicked up a couple of feet, grabbed a quick breath off the snorkel, only to sink back down to 3-4 feet underwater.....half the time I got a little air others I swallowed some nasty water.... things were not looking good.
I finally decided that this had a predictable outcome, so figured I would ditch my weight belt.....and if I had to ditch my tank later, I could remove the reg and try to hang onto it.....so off the 22 lb weight belt went, and I was temporarily a kork. By now I had been dragged quite close to the washing machine that didn't look remotely survivable even if I had a BC and a full tank of air. As much as I swam, at the rate I was going I wasn't going to escape being blown and dragged to Davey Jones Locker.
Just then as I crested the next swell, I saw the Peace Captain come zipping over the top of a swell in the inflatable. It took him awhile to eventually get to me, but when he did, in spite of my state of exhaustion, I managed to pull my sorry butt tank and all right up and over the side in one fell swoop like a baitfish escaping a hungry tuna.
My first words to the Captain was: "You just save my sorry butt" and "I could have used you 20 minutes ago."
Twas no sooner then a minute or two after I dropped my weight belt that I spotted him. I might have been able to hold on without dropping it had I known.....
Apparently everyone else aborted their dives early and they were trying to find me in the mess, and didn't think I would be where I was due to the surface conditions.
On my next dive trip I had a shiny new large capacity safety organge colored BC.......Now when I do such a dive, I have a tall SMB AND a rolled up and stowed Halcyon flourescent orange downed pilot inflatable life raft.
Attached is an old photo of The Boilers on a calm day in good weather and the Halcyon liferaft I now employ.
