April on the Ocean

In days of old
When divers were cold
And before dry suits were invented
The best latrine
Was neoprene
Especially if it was rented

It’s been weeks….seems longer but it has only been weeks since I was last in the ocean and I was truly looking forward to today.

The morning was sunny and the seas were flat…..so different than the last few weekends and as we sat at the dock waiting for the Lady Godiver to arrive we hoped the visibility gods would smile on us as well. We were going diving. Myself, Mark, Jim, Bart, Jack and Francis. Now all we needed was Howard….and the boat.

When you miss a few weeks of diving you should always be prepared for things to have changed. And change they did. Howard arrived on cue for his first day back at his summer dock in Waretown. There was some fresh paint to be viewed. The door to the cabin was clean and white, and as I placed our gear on the cabin benches I noted that the normally slightly tight quarters were a little tighter than usual. Why is that? Must be the new HEAD! I couldn’t believe it, but it’s true. Some changes are good…really good.

This was also to be my maiden boat dive for my doubles and for Mark’s new dry gloves. Can the good news keep on coming? Hmmm…..

We headed out for the Harry Rush. This wreck holds a special place in Jack’s heart as he pulled a huge lobster off of her last summer. This wooden sailing ship sunk on February 17, 1943 in 80 feet of water, in what appears to be a run for shore according to her orientation. What is left of the wreck lies low to the sand and we hooked into the west end at the chain locker. As we went over the side you could see that we were to be content with the warm sunny day and calm seas, as the visibility was less than perfect.

Marks new gloves did not cooperate for him and he was back to his trusty 5mls and my doubles and I arrived in the water at the same time, always a good thing. We were off. There was a slight surface current and particulate in the cloudy green water as we descended. And the water felt colder than the 44 F my computer was registering. As we reached the sand there was a slight surge and the water cleared a bit, we were to have 5-10 ft of viz this dive, and that was being generous.

Mark tied in his reel and we set out looking about. The area we were in was a bit small and mounds and lines of chain abounded. We set out doing sweeps looking for another section, coming across small pieces here and there but never really finding what we were looking for. I took this opportunity to work on my buoyancy and trim and can honestly say I never shot to the surface or face planted in the sand. A little more work may still be in order though.

The lack of sea life was blaringly obvious. There was the occasional starfish lying about and one lone hermit crab scurrying along looking like he had missed his bus. There were no other fish and we never found the body of the wreck which had held Jack’s prize lobster last season, so we headed on back to the line and up.

While my doubles and I had exited the boat with some ease, my return was less than triumphant. With a little help from my friends I was back on board. Along with Jack…….who had managed to find the main wreckage and one studly lobster…..and a few not so studly ones too. And while Captain Bart watched the boat, Howard went down and found himself some lobster also. Not a bad haul for dive #1.

We headed over to the San Saba for our second dive and saw a lobster boat over the wreck. We headed over to see if we could share and discovered that the pot lines were caught and could not be hauled in. The lobsterman was stuck.

Jack offered to go down and free them and over the side he went, appearing some time later with lines in hand. Our new friend was very grateful and presented us with a generous lobstery thank you for Jack’s trouble. And we got the skinny on our next dive…..right over the boilers, same water temps and marginally better visibility. Worked for me, and over we went.

The San Saba was a freighter named after a river in Texas which sunk on October 4, 1918 after hitting a mine laid by the U-117. Being a navigational hazard, she was demolished and is now mangled wreckage that lies in 80- ft of water.

The water was only a smidgeon clearer but there was much more life here. Bergall swam all about the wreckage and some small sea bass were hidden back in the boilers. Huge clam shells were strewn about and the usual growth covered the wreckage.

We swam about and I taxed myself as I managed my buoyancy, kept an eye on Mark so as not to get lost, and poked and prodded the fishies…..life is good. As we moved about I saw a single antennae peeking out from under a piece of wreckage and made a grab for what was surely to be my first lobster of the season. But alas…..all I got was a single antennae…..he was wedged in there pretty good and not coming out to play. We looked about a bit more and then headed on up the line.

Again a huge thank you for the assist on climbing aboard and we looked about to see what the others had found. Bart was busy trying to remove the chain from his new anchor and not fairing well. Let it be noted in this dive report that he was less than happy with his progress. I had rescued some sinkers from their fate of being tied to the wreckage and they found a new home in Howards tackle box. One last lobster joined us for the ride in and we set sail for home.

The sun was still shining, the air was warm, the seas were flat and the company outstanding. What a nice day to get out.

Opening Day At Dutch Springs 2008

Don’t wait for extraordinary opportunities. Seize common occasions and make them great….. ~ Orison Swett Marden

Opportunity….

We were supposed to be on a boat on the calm Atlantic, enjoying the gentle breezes and first warm days of spring. Ahhh…….

Unfortunately rain, cold and 35 knot gusts put a damper on our plans. Not to be deterred, we took advantage of the “opportunity” and immediately changed course for opening day at Dutch Springs 2008. Not our planned destination but a great “opportunity” to get wet, meet up with old friends, and dial in the new wing and doubles. Not a bad plan.

In the manner of all diving, we set forth at O’Dark Thirty. Mark, to the minute on time, as usual. It was cold and raining, and the outlook was bleak, but we were getting wet…one way or another. Up the Parkway we headed and met up with Josh and we were on our way, arriving at Dutch Springs at 8AM and the official opening. The weather had cleared some and it was no longer raining…..things were looking up.

We unloaded the truck and set out looking for familiar faces before gearing up. In addition to myself, Mark O and Josh, aka YBLdiver, on the next table over was Nick, aka Puddles and or Bubblehead, who has a brandy new dry suit without a drop of aquaseal on it, I hardly recognized him….and Ann. She has to be a saint to join us in such gray weather and not even be a diver. Catching up, their youngest got married over the winter and they have a new grandchild on the way. Congrats guys!

And then there was Frnak, aka Darthlobster or even sometimes…..Frank. Watching him unload is an event. He pulls up in a little car and pops the trunk and like a clown car in the circus begins to pull out enough dive gear to fill a dump truck. Absolutely amazing job of packing. Sherwood, my apologies for not knowing your name, is on the next table setting up his gear and behind him pulls Terry. Terry is a lurker on Wreck Valley and NJDive and we really should give him a name, although Terrythelurker will do for now. Bill B. was unable to make it due to some family goings on but we did spot Brandon, aka Mcjangles and some others.

In short time we are greeting Jack, aka our own lovable Spratman. He is getting back in the water after a too long and trying dry spell, and sporting his new Weezles, dry suit and doubles! And he is followed by Tony, aka NJdiverTony and his secret stash of Dogbreath Ale, aka Dog Fish Head Ale whatever…..an opening day tradition now.

Ahhh….social hour is over and its time to dive. I have a new doubles wing to break in and break it does. Upon setting up my tanks Mark immediately asks…..What’s that noise? My inflator is leaking and no amount of coaxing is convincing it to stop. Luckily I brought a single setup just in case and we switch out the inflators and I am ready to go.

Jack still won’t carry my gear, so I set out for the dock on my own and slowly inch into the cold clear water. As we step off the platform and descend I am greeted by 42 F water that for some reason felt much colder and an ice cream headache. I immediately scrunch my eyes and grab my forehead to warm it and upon reaching the bottom and opening my eyes….I am greeted with about 50 foot or more of viz…sweet!

We are taking things slowly, as I want to take this “opportunity” to play with the new wing and Josh is trying out his new dry suit and doubles for the first time and we take a leisurely stroll on the well traveled route to the school bus, honestly seeing all the sights along the way as I never have before. I have never been here with viz like this…I like it, although, according to Mark who was behind me, he only had about 5 foot of viz. Wise a** (wasn’t me…must have been Josh). I had not raised an inch of silt since my ice cream headache landing. We arrive at the bus and except for struggling with the inflator hose which is way too long, the new wing is fine and the doubles are under control.

We continue on out past the new Hellcat, around the boat, over the river and through the woods, around the tanker up the wall and on home in seconds shy of an hour.

We are cold and hungry and some lunch is in order. First though, I give Jack a little assist with some of the more delicate technical parts of his gear…. twice, and he and Tony are now off to run the same circuit and work out the same bugs. Funny how that works out.

Dive two is shorter and involves the trolley and some other sights, along with an exit at the other docks but still a fun little time and it is time for goodbyes and the ride home.

It was great to see everyone and catch up. And there was talk of some shore diving and notes on boat trips and vacations. There are some plans for future weekends and talk of some future trips. I enjoyed the “opportunity” to catch up with everyone and look forward to seeing them again.

Last Jupiter Dive

And the turtles, of course…. All the turtles are free – As turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be. ~ Yertle the Turtle (Dr. Seuss)

Dive two today went much better. My earlier attempt at a 90 foot ledge ended in my sitting on the boat watching the drift flag move along the top of the water. This time I was going to dive whether my computer cooperated or not. And it didn’t…but I dove.

As I giant strided off the back of the boat my finger spool came alive and mad a mad dash for freedom. I “reeled in” the errant line as I descended on a 75 fsw reef called Tunnels. Upon reaching the bottom I had a birds nest of thin braided line and made quick work of securing it in a tight although unusable manner and proceeded to look about. I was searching for shark and I was quickly rewarded with the sight of a caribbean reef shark taking off into the sand. Immediately followed by his best friend. Woo Hoo!

Within minutes my computer proceeded to have its second temper tantrum but this time I was just going to ride it out and see the sights.

Several more reef sharks moved underneath us. The visibility was between 50 and 70 feet and you could look off into the sand as they swam away.

Just off the reef we came across a large hawksbill turtle resting in the sand. These are no small turtles. This one was between 3 and 4 feet in length and just sat watching us as much as we were him. But this is a drift dive and the current was moving along at a good clip so finning against it was tiring and we moved on.

Several large deep ledges appeared on the reefs sides and at times the ledges connected forming short archways which were the inspiration for the reefs name…Tunnels.

We explored under and about and quickly learned to peak before swimming in as several nurse sharks were resting and ultimately rousted from under the ledge by our curiousness. While nurse sharks are the puppy dogs of the shark world….I had been warned top side not to pet them…..does my reputation extend all the way to Jupiter, Florida? Jeesh.
The race of diver and shark to get out of the way did get the heart pumping though and we moved along. But still no lemon shark.

There was a great deal of other life on this reef also. Along with the variety of sponges and soft corals there were goliath grouper and French angel fish along with some hog fish and trigger fish and an assortment of tang, butterfly fish, fairy basselets and other colorful fish I cant yet name.

At 40 some minutes the last diver of the group was heading up and so I slowly followed giving one last look around. A lone nurse shark about 5-6 foot swam lazily in front of me and I finned in place and watched as she gracefully moved about. It was time for me to go though. All the rest of the divers were headed for the surface and I was the last one down. A tap of air out of my wing to start me on my way and as I rose from the sand to the top of the reef I came face to face almost with an enormous.. yellow … shark. I huge deep breath on my part quickly raised me a few feet higher and above my new best friend. This shark was easily 8 or 9 feet long and I was mesmerized by the yellow coloring. They are called lemon sharks for good reason. My friend was not as enamored of me as I of him and slowly swam along ignoring me as I hovered above. When he finally moved off I continued on up to my safety stop and valet pick up by the dive boat.

Gotta love drift diving. Float along…surface….wave and they come to you and pick you up. Think we could get the jersey Captains to do that?

Bananas on a Dive Boat

There is a superstition alive and well among many ships captains that bananas on a boat are unlucky.

The origins of this superstition are not clear. There are many theories.

In the early days vessels would stop at tropical islands to gather provisions for the trip back to Europe and they would pick up wooden crates of bananas. These crates would have all kinds of little surprises in them such as poisonous spiders and snakes. The crew would often be bitten by these poisonous spiders and snakes, some of which were very small, and become ill or die …..hence feeding the thought that the bananas were to blame.

Another theory was that slaves were brought from Africa to the New World in the holds of banana boats. So if you happened to wake up in a dark place and it smelled a lot like bananas... well ….. you were not going to be happy…. very bad luck for you.

Another thought was that bananas ripen quickly and then emit a gas that rapidly rots any other produce nearby, including the limes sailors found essential on long voyages to fight off scurvy and keep healthy. And so it was unlucky to have bananas onboard.

And then there was the simple theory that since in the 1700’s nearly every ship that disappeared and sank was carrying bananas….hauling bananas was unlucky.

Or maybe it evolved because bananas carried aboard slave ships fermented and gave off methane gas, which would be trapped below deck. And anyone in the hold, including the slaves, would succumb to the poisoned air. Quite unlucky.

Or even because some of the boats used to ferry fruit to Europe from S. America were aging wooden sailing ships and the bananas tended to rot in the holds which were not fully cleaned out causing the wood planks to rot out faster. In bad weather, some of these boats would come apart, and the rotting boards would leak faster than could be fixed.Or last but not least because ships following the trade routes would be carrying so much stuff and the ship's manifest would be loaded according to weight...with the heaviest on the bottom and lighter on top. When a ship would be bashed apart on a reef or some rocks...sometimes all that would be found of them would be the cargo of fruits and that were riding high in the holds...hence the only thing surviving was the fruit….lucky for the bananas but not the ship and crew.

Whatever the origins of this superstition…..the question is…… do YOU believe it? Legend has it that and executive from Fruit of the Loom underwear learned of the superstition while on an offshore fishing trip. The fish were in a particularly uncooperative mood, so he stripped off his unmentionables. After that, he considered the banana ban a true taboo, and the banana was banished from the fruity label.

Now me…I don’t know what to believe…but I watched a guy eat a banana on the dive boat this morning….and lost my first dive to my computer going bonkers……hmmmmm……

Jupiter Day One

If I swim in the ocean, I have a shark thought. Not a bad one, but just a little one.

~ Tea Leoni

I am just about done here in Florida, so I decided to take a ride over to the East Coast and try my hand at shark diving. The lemon sharks congregate around this time each year off the coast of Jupiter, Florida, lying along the ocean floor in what is believed to be a mating process.

I went to Tampa and saw the musical Jersey Boys and then returned and left Anna Maria Island at 4AM, heading for the Jupiter Dive Center and a 9AM boat. I highly recommend the musical but can tell you first hand the drive is NOT fun. The trip was long … and upon arriving at the dock I was having some problems with my regulator, so I left it with the shop tech and set up another regulator for the dive. I was leery of putting my Sherwood on the setup so went with my long hose….big mistake…..

I loaded on the boat and set up my tank, with the anaconda of regulators and my little pony….yes Mark, I tightened the bands.

Due to the winds we headed out a little farther off shore looking for some decent visibility and arrived on a reef in about 90 fsw. This was to be a drift dive and everyone launched off the back of the boat one after the other…. almost everyone …..yes …. can you believe it ….. I wasn’t the first one in this time. As I wrestled to make the long hose and the pony play nice, the Captain reminded me that the theory of a drift dive was that you moved along in the water and the other divers were doing just that. I grabbed a handful of hose and bounced my head off the pony’s first stage and jumped in the water. I would manage.

Catching up to the group rather quickly we dropped down to see who was home. There was the usual assortment of colorful fish swimming about while huge sponges and corals swayed in the current. In the sand just off the reef, a huge loggerhead turtle lumbered along, making his way to where ever it is turtles go, while large French Angelfish swam in and out of the coral. And there were sightings of spotted moray eel and white frilly fan worms and a large goliath grouper. One of the other divers had explained to me the difference in the assorted grouper, with the goliath being distinguished by the square shape of their fins and tail. I think their gi-normo size is a dead give away but the square cut of them is quite prominent now that I know what to look for. But, alas, we spent 49 minutes admiring the marine life, but there was not a single shark.

Two of our group were spear fishing and had done well. In the cooler sat a huge red snapper and a Cobia over 3 feet long. What a catch!

We headed on over to Loggerhead Reef, a similar reef although smaller in size and about 75 fsw, to see if we could fair better.

Having spent the first dive absolutely wrestling with the hose constantly catching on the pony, I switched out r my trusty Sherwood and jumped in on schedule with high hopes for dive two.
The colorful fish were large and abundant on this reef. Yellow and black butterfly fish in every pattern imaginable, huge vibrantly colored french angelfish, and hoards of squirrelfish. And again….no shark….Oh well….there is still tomorrow.

We drifted along, taking in the sights. These included an enormous moray eel which I followed for a bit…..until he stopped to take a look at me. So I moved on along, giving him his privacy.

The dive master began pointing at something off in the sand and I moved closer to see what it was. There in the sand was the outline of a manta ray. The biggest I have ever seen. There are first time homebuyers purchasing less square footage than this thing. The Dive master would later mention that he saw the tail first and thought it was a fishing pole dropped in the water before making out the rest of this behemoth. It slowly twitched as we hovered nearby watching, sharpening the outline of its body in the sand before rising up and undulating away.

Around the 47 minute mark the water cooled a bit and began to darken and so we headed on up.

The boat was large and clean and the Captain and crew helpful and knowledgeable. Definitely one I would recommend. I am coming back tomorrow to try again. Maybe we will find the elusive lemon shark then….for now…. I think I will try and find me one of those umbrella drinks…with a lemon in it.

Don't Poke the Scallops

“A lot of this has to do with the (scallop) prices last year. Put them back down to $3.65 (per pound) again and I don't think you'll see this problem any more.” ~ Sam Martin

It was dark, but at least it wasn’t cold this time. And again my dive buddy makes me drive myself to the boat. Uhh…thanks. Using my Garmin, I managed to find the boat, despite the dive shops ominous warning to call them if I ended up at a laundry mat, they swear GPS never finds them.

I was going shark tooth hunting. Last year I did these dives from the beach, but had heard that the big teeth were found in the offshore beds reached only by boat. I was going to find out. The boat was a 31 footer named the Hammerhead out of Venice Beach, Florida. The captain and mate were most helpful and attentive and the boat quite comfortable. There were 12 divers aboard with at least five having done this dive twenty or more times. Some of these people are serious about their teeth.

The day was a bit overcast but 67F as we headed out into the Gulf. Two kayakers rode our wake out to the dive site, about a 20 min ride. We stood on deck and watched them fly along the edges of the boats wake, keeping up with us and only using their paddles for balance and direction. Looked like great fun, but I am sure they had one heck of a long paddle back.

Once out a the site we geared up and stepped off the back of the dive platform into 27 feet of 70F water. Apparently tooth hunting is a solo activity and each diver was handed a flag as they stepped off the platform. A diver from Illinois I had been speaking to on the ride out was a little uncomfortable diving solo and asked if he could tag along with me and I welcomed the company.

Due to some heavy rains yesterday there was only about 20 foot of visibility but we only needed to see about a foot as we began scouring the bottom for teeth. As I looked about I saw rocks and seashells, and coral and sponges, some hermit crabs and colorful sea urchins, but no shark teeth.

Then I began to pick out pieces of sting ray barbs and manta ray dental plate, and my lessons from last year began to come back to me. Some of the rocks began to take shape as petrified manatee ribs and whale bones and I carefully selected a few just to confirm when I got topside.

There were dozens of small scallops scattered about and they hopped away as we skimmed over them. To my amusement, a set of three in a row jumped up in unison under my chin and hopped away like a scene from a Disney movie. I listened a moment, half expecting to hear them singing as they skipped along.

Then I saw one, small…. but the triangular shape was unmistakable, and then another, and then a thin tiger shark one. Shark teeth. It was coming back to me now. I didn’t find many, but I did manage to snag my first meg! Not a 6 inch trophy quality one but a respectable little bugger none the less. Woo Hoo.

As we swam along the pin fish, between 6 and 10 inches long, were abundant and curious. They constantly came up to my mask planting little fish kisses on the lens and straps and hovering directly underneath me as I swam. If I stopped several would come running to take a look and see what all the fuss was about, following my arm as it moved about. I gave a quick shot at snagging one in my little goody bag but they would have none of it. I did poke dozens of them and they immediately came right back, not to be chased away so easily. It was fish pokey heaven.

My fish poking AAD was in full swing when I noted 2 things. One…. my dive flag was no where to be found…..and Two …. I was about an hour into the dive and might just want to surface and see where the boat was. So up we went, surfacing about 20 yards from the boat. My dive flag……oh about a quarter mile away, I am sure. I could barely make it out in the distance. Hmmm, I wonder how that happened.

We collected all the divers and the errant dive flag and spent the surface interval sorting through our finds. The Captain is a wealth of knowledge in this area and explained about upper and lower teeth, why some teeth are brown and some black, prehistoric horses and their teeth, prehistoric scallop casts, and more.

I dropped back in for dive two and immediately found a large piece of broken meg tooth. Unfortunately this was all I would come across this dive and soon became bored with searching for teeth and started searching out the locals.

I came across a large cleaner shrimp hard at work on a large shell and dozens of mini hermit crabs. The pin fish kept me constant company running into and around me. There were pink, red and purple sea urchins everywhere and I occupied myself decorating them by hanging little seashells on their spines. There were several sea robbins swimming about and I pulled on the tail of more than one.

Then I saw him. Just sitting there. I don’t know if he was yawning, or taking a drink of water or maybe even just stretching, but his shell opened up…..and I poked him. AND THE DAMNED THING BIT ME! I now have this scallop hanging off the end of my finger and he is pissed. I smacked him off my finger and as he hits the sand he jumps back up at me several times snapping his shell. It is absolutely comical, like something out of a cartoon and I find myself laughing and flooding my reg.

“Someone” told me this would happen some day. Can’t believe he missed it. _________________

Cortez Museum

It was cool and breezy today and no prospects for diving, so I tossed the dog in the truck and took a ride to the dive shop to fill my tank.

On the way I passed the Cortez Maritime Museum and stopped to take a peek.

The museum is housed in a renovated schoolhouse, a little piece of history in itself. The Village of Cortez, Florida began in the early 1880’s when several families migrated from NC and settled on what was then known as Hunters Point to fish for mullet.

They mostly gillnetted and the village thrived catching fish and selling them to Cuba. Fifty years later the villagers decided to call the community DeSoto after the first Spanish explorer there and requested a post office. A Washington clerk decided that there was already a DeSoto in Florida and promptly renamed the village Cortez after Hernando Cortez. Unfortunately Cortez never came to Florida and was not a part of Florida history.

The advent of gasoline motors and a railroad connecting Cortez to Tampa and the rest of the US caused the village to boom until destroyed by a hurricane in 1921, then in 1929 stock market crashed and the mullet mysteriously disappeared not returning until 1939. During the Depression Cortez was the only place in the US which did not accept financial assistance from the US government. A feisty little lot.

They were confounded again in 1947 and 1953 with horrific red tides and during the late 60’s development in surrounding areas destroyed the mangroves which were the nursery area for the mullet the village so depended on.

In 1969 legislation was proposed to ban fishing in the bays and the local population banded together with other fisherman in Florida to defeat the bill.

A boom in the Japanese market brought prosperity back to the area only to have a 1995 Florida Constitutional Amendment ban gillnetting, the life blood of the village’s fishermen. They still fight to remain an active fishing community but most of the young adults have moved on to other occupations and the family fishing businesses are slowly falling away. In a village of appx 500 residents over 100 buildings have been designated historical sites. Truly an interesting area.

The Maritime Museum follows the rise and fall of the local fishing industry with all the good and bad luck to have befallen the village. Included among the history are examples of how their fishing has changed over the years from poling boats and bailing with wooden bailers to motorized net hauling, and everything in between. They also have an art gallery with a wonderful collection of artwork representing the local area and fishing in general.

A lovely little distraction off the beaten path.