Sunday, October 31st, 1999
The Wahoo went to the Oregon. The sea was a little rougher
than Saturday, perhaps about four feet, when we arrived at the wreck. A small private
fishing boat was anchored above the engine, so Hank was sent in to secure the grapple. The
two guys on the fishing boat were catching lots of large blue fish and even landed a tuna.
I got in the water shortly after Hank, looked around, and could not figure out where on
the wreck I was, so I decided to run a line. Although visibility was about 30 feet, it was
somewhat dark, so I hoped that my light would not go out again. I decided to do a fun
dive, but to be extra vigilant with my use of the reel, making sure to keep tension on it,
and to put placements often enough to keep it out of the way. I picked a direction and
swam, and found myself at the steering quadrant. Now I knew where I was, but I hadn't been
to this part of the wreck in some time, so it was just as well that I had run the line.
Near there, I found a lobster. He was a little small, but I thought there was a good
chance he would make the gauge, so I stuck him in my bag. I spent some time checking
sorting through the debris just forward of the steering quadrant, hoping that a piece of
china might appear, but no such luck. When I returned to where I had tied my line off, I
saw another lobster. I could only see his crusher claw, but it was a big one -- I knew
there was a good sized lobster on the other end of it. I grabbed the claw and pulled, but
the lobster had wedged himself quite securely in his hole. Nonetheless, since I had a hold
of him, I was unwilling to let go, and I continued to pull, thinking eventually he would
give up, but he let go of the claw instead. I put the claw down, stuck my hand in there
and held his scissor claw shut so he couldn't bite me. Then I stuck my other hand in and
grabbed his body. I pulled as hard as I could until finally he came out. I let go of his
body, and discovered he had let go of the other claw as well, but I managed to grab him
again before he went into another hole. I opened my bag to stuff him in, and the other
lobster jumped out. Finally I got both lobsters, the two claws and my reel in the bag,
picked up my stage bottles and ascended to decompress. The two giant stainless steel clips
I put on my oxygen bottle make it a real snap (no pun intended) to put on. The hang was
pretty bouncy, but there wasn't much current, so it was hard to stay out of the way of the
anchor line. The 30 foot stop (12 minutes) and 20 foot stop (17 minutes) were pretty
uncomfortable. To entertain myself while I was decompressing, I figured out how much gas I
had used up getting the second lobster (which, I was guessing, probably weighed about 6
pounds) and came up with 17 cubic feet. Tony had better enjoy this lobster, I thought! At
the end of my decompression, I tried to secure my two stage bottles to my equipment line
as I always do, but there was a bit of the current , and as I was trying to remove the
second bottle, I got swept under the boat ladder, which promptly began to beat me on the
back of my doubles. I had the sneaking suspicion that it would not be long before the
ladder hit me in the head, so I decided to climb the ladder with the one stage bottle on.
When I got back on the boat, I discovered that both lobsters and my reel were gone -- at
some point, my bag had opened up. 10 extra minutes of decompression and too much back gas
used, all for naught. But it was a great dive anyway.
Saturday, October 30th, 1999
For a change of pace, I was on board the Wahoo, We went to
the San Diego. The sea was almost completely flat, there was a very light breeze and it
was slightly overcast. As I prepared to get in the water, I had a certain feeling of
apprehension -- the same one I experienced before my first dive of the season in April.
Having just returned from the warm, clear, fresh water of the Florida caves, would I still
like Northeast wreck diving? I jumped in and instantly suffered brain freeze. I checked my
gauge and saw that the water temperature was 58 degrees. (It turned out to be 58 degrees
at the bottom, too.) This was rather disconcerting, but before I could see the hull of the
wreck, the feeling went away. I secured my stage bottles near the anchor line, turned on
my light, looked around, and was happy to be back at home. The water was warm, visibility
was about 30 feet, and I was at my favorite wreck. What more could one ask? I did not
linger there though, as I had a specific mission to accomplish. With my GUE Cave 2 course
coming up in two weeks, there were some line drills I wanted to do to make sure I would
not make a complete fool of myself in class.
I entered the wreck at the gun port forward of the garage
doors. I had two reels, my safety spool and some line arrows with me. I saw a lobster and
considered trying to catch it, but refrained -- I had a mission to accomplish. Maybe the
lobster would still be there when I was done. I took out the first reel and ran a line
from a small piece sticking out just inside the forward part of the door, to some kind of
pipe or post about 10 feet forward of it. I returned to the entrance and began swimming
across the wreck until I found a place to secure the other reel (this turned out to be
about 8 feet inside the entrance) and ran that line perpendicular to the first line and
secured the other end to another post about 10 feet away. Then I placed a line arrow on
the second line, got out my safety spool, and ran the spool from the line arrow from the
second line to the first. I swam along the second line to the end, turned around and swam
back, picked up the spool, swam back to the line arrow, removed the spool, stowed it,
removed the line arrow and repeated the whole thing. I was about to rewind the safety
spool for the third time when my light began to flicker and went out. I clipped it off and
deployed one of my backup lights. I decided I'd had just about enough of this exercise,
and that I would remove the reels, exit the wreck and then spend some time relaxing and
having fun. And maybe I'd get that lobster. As I began removing the second reel, Hank
entered from the aft end of the room, signaled hello, spotted the lobster (which was still
in the same place it had been when I entered the room), nabbed it, and exited the wreck.
Oh, well. Finders, keepers. When I got outside, my primary light suddenly went back on. I
began swimming forward, hunting for lobsters, poked around in a couple of rooms within the
light zone, and my light started flickering and went back off again. Perhaps, I thought to
myself, the canister flooded again. But the damage would already be done, so there was no
point in cutting my dive short. I did not find any lobsters as my planned bottom time of
70 minutes began to run out, so I stowed the backup light and picked up my stage bottles.
As I began to ascend, my primary light went on again, so I switched it off. When I arrived
at my 20 foot stop, I found hank decompressing there. It's always nice to have company
during deco.
On the boat deck, I opened the canister and found it dry.
Janet looked at it and discovered that the culprit was the fuse on the battery, which was
not seated well.
Monday, October 18th - Friday October 22nd, 1999
Tony, Fernando, Steve and I had a fabulous cave diving
expedition in Florida. Tony and I did a total of 10 dives in Devil's Ear, Peacock, Orange
Grove, and Little River. I'm working on a detailed report, which I'm going to post on my
personal web page due to its length -- but I'll be putting a link here to it. Pictures
will follow soon.
Sunday, October 10th, 1999
The Wahoo went to the Oregon again. It seems that we're
making up for not going to the wreck much earlier this year! I dove with Janet. At the
bottom, visibility was about 10-15 feet, but darker and siltier than it had been the
previous week. This was my first dive with my new HID light. Well, actually, the light
itself isn't new -- it's my Dive Rite MLS -- but I had wet mates put on the cord and a HID
ballast with an 18 watt bulb and Extreme Exposure head. If I told you the light was very
bright, it would not really explain just how bright it was. Janet and I went into the hall
of portholes. Janet has an AUL light with a 75 watt bulb. I was leading the way, and I
could not see her light behind me at all. When I covered my light with my hand to see if I
could see her light, so much light leaked around the edges of my hand, I still could not
see her light, so I kept having to turn around to see where she was. Near the exit, I
caught a lobster. Now, there are two ways of thinking about this -- if Janet had led the
way, she would have been able to see MY light, and I would have been able to see her. But
she would have gotten the lobster. What a dilemma!
As we ascended by the engine, Janet spotted a super-cool
sight glass, still intact. She wanted me to help her get it, but I was nearly out of
bottom time, and had to leave. She managed to recover it in about 10 minutes, and reported
that a little bit of 100-year-old air came bubbling out when she took it off. How cool is
that?
Sunday, October 3rd, 1999
The Wahoo went to the Oregon. Visibility was finally back to
something approximating normal -- about 15 feet at the bottom. My friend Steve was on
board. I took him for a 30 minute tour up the port side of the wreck and then continued
the dive without him. Earlier that day, a diver had gotten lost and shot a bag, leaving
his spear, light, and some other items at the bottom, so I decided to go see if I could
find them for him. I quickly found the end of his line just forward of the boilers on the
starboard side of the wreck (where Shelley had reported seeing it) and followed it to
where it was tied off in "no man's land" -- the flat and confusing area forward
of the boilers. Unfortunately, even after doing an extensive search, I didn't find any of
his lost equipment, and I was running out of bottom time, so I left. After getting back on
the boat, I discovered that Janet and Dave had recovered his stuff, so my search was
unnecessary, but I had enjoyed seeing that area of the wreck for the first time, so it
wasn't a total loss.
I was the last diver out of the water, so after leaving my
stage bottles on my equipment line, I went back to the mooring to remove the shackle
(which is about 20 feet down). I was tired and eager to get the job done with, so when I
heard the rest of the crew yelling something unintelligible at me, I didn't pay them much
mind. I knew that there were no other divers in the water, and all of my equipment seemed
to be in good working order, so I figured they were just giving me a hard time or
something. As I began to descend, I saw a fish or something out of the corner of my eye,
but didn't think anything of it, as I was intent on getting the job done. When I came up
they were yelling at me again, but I was tired and just wanted to get back on the boat. It
turned out that there were dolphins circling around the mooring, and that I just swam
right past them without even noticing!! They were swimming up at the bow for a few minutes
on the way back. Hank took some really good pictures of them, which he showed me the
following weekend.
Sunday, September 26th, 1999
I was aboard the Wahoo again. We visited the Oregon.
Visibility on top of the engine seemed limitless. It was warm (at least 61 degrees) and
bright. What a cruel trick the sea played on us -- at the bottom, it was quite dark and
visibility was only about five feet. Janet and I escorted Conrad on a tour of the wreck,
although the tour was pretty limited due to the poor visibility. Janet speared three
flounders, but two of them got away. After about 60 or 65 minutes on the bottom, we
decided we'd had enough of the poor visibility and went up to the top of the engine, where
we removed three valves. Two of them are now soaking in my bathroom, and Conrad has the
third. Janet thinks they'd make nice candle holders. My total bottom time was 75 minutes
on 25% nitrox, which earned me 55 minutes of deco on 50/50 and O2. -- by Maggie Owens
Saturday, September 25th, 1999
Tony went to the Kenosha on the John Jack. Details to follow
soon.
I was on the Wahoo, and we went to the San Diego. Visibility
-- both inside and outside the wreck -- was only about 10 feet, and very silty.
Nonetheless, I had a fun dive. First, I entered a gun port I often use most frequently to
go inside the wreck and started swimming forward. There were literally dozens of eel pout
carcasses all over the place. Capt. Janet said they get beat up by heavy surge during
storms. Well, the eel pouts were not the only thing affected by the storm -- the wreck
itself underwent many changes. As I was swimming forward, I saw lots of new debris
littering the floor and new sections of the floor had fallen in. Then I saw a new big
crack above me. This made me nervous, so I started swimming back to where I had entered
and I started swimming aft from that point. I often swim here; this particular passage
leads to the space under the garage doors. The ceiling had sank considerably, limiting
vertical clearance significantly, but it looked like I would be able to fit through with
no problem. Then I came upon a pipe that was formerly covered with a thick coating of rust
and silt, and appears to be a key vertical support. The pipe was shiny -- I guess some
other vertical supports collapsed, or weight shifted to put more pressure on the pipe. I
decided this was not a good place to be either, so I exited the wreck and went in
elsewhere. Further aft, at the hatch in the garage doors, I found cables that had formerly
been hanging down about 2 feet from the ceiling all beat up and hanging through a hole in
the floor that had not been there before. Instead of entering the hatch, I dropped down a
level, and found things mostly unchanged. I am eager to go back and see what else has
changed. Other divers reported changes in the debris field, the stern and the bow. Perhaps
new areas of the wreck have opened up; surely others are now inaccessible. -- by Maggie
Owens
Sunday, September 12th, 1999
I boarded the R.V. Wreck Valley, Dan Berg's boat, for a trip
to the Tarantula. The Tarantula was originally a private yacht owned by W.K. Vanderbilt.
It was converted to a gun boat during WW1 to serve the US Navy, and sank in 1918 after a
collision with another ship. The wreck is small and much of it is buried in the sand, but
what remains is quite beautiful. There is a great deal of marine life (including lots of
lobsters) and artifacts on the wreck. The depth is about 115 - 120 feet.
I dove with Hank. We spent quite a bit of some time digging
with the scooter for artifacts. Although the digging was fun, we didn't find anything
interesting. But I did come up with a light fixture that I found near a decent size
lobster I brought up. Hank got four lobsters and part of a lock with writing on it. In
addition, we saw two enormous stingrays, with wingspans of at least five feet! I didn't
know a stingray could get that big, and I sure wish I had a camera with me! Conditions
were even better than Saturday -- completely flat and calm, very bright at depth with
excellent visibility. -- by Maggie Owens
Saturday, September 11th, 1999
One could not possibly ask for a better day! I was joined on
board the Wahoo by Tony and Pete for a trip to the San Diego. Tony and I took turns using
Stingray's new rental Apollo scooter, and Pete had his short body Gavin with him. Denis
was also there -- with three scooters -- so it was like a big festival 'o scooters on the
boat! I dived with Hank; he and I spent some time playing with the scooter and then
looking around inside the wreck. We found that a deck had fallen in up by the bow in the
last couple of weeks -- apparently from the hurricane. Pete reported that he spent his
time doing laps around the wreck, and Tony said he made it to the barge in about one
minute. Zoom!
Visibility was about 40 feet both inside and outside the
wreck. Inside, I was able to see much further than ever before, and outside, it was so
bright, my light was mostly unnecessary. Bait fish were schooling around the stern area of
the wreck, making it look something like North Carolina, and during decompression we could
see a school of albacore tuna. -- by Maggie Owens
Saturday, September 4th, 1999
Crew day on board the Wahoo. We dived the Oregon in very
favorable conditions. Medium-sized swells were far apart, and the visibility on the bottom
was 15-20 feet. I enjoyed my 55 minute bottom time, but was unable to locate the china I
had seen two dives previously. Sunday and Monday dives were canceled due to unfavorable
sea conditions. -- by Maggie Owens
Sunday, August 29th, 1999
I stayed on board the Wahoo to dive the Oregon. Seas were
somewhat calmer than on Saturday, with the exception of some very large swells, far apart
-- probably the result of our friend hurricane Cindy. Once again, surface visibility was
excellent, but visibility at the bottom was poor. Janet and Dave reported 15 feet for most
of their dive (until they swam into a silt cloud in which visibility was reduced to
inches), but I found it to be only about 5 - 8 feet in the area where I was diving. I
dropped over the engine to the port side of the wreck, with some projects in mind further
up towards the bow. Unfortunately, the locking nut on my reel broke (in the closed
position) just after I reached the sand, and my light went out a couple of minutes later.
With only a backup light in the limited visibility, and fairly strong surge, my plans were
ruined and I ended the dive after only 40 minutes. At least the hang was pleasant. -- by
Maggie Owens
Saturday, August 28th, 1999
On Friday, August 27th, Tony called me and
said that he was able to get in touch with Captain Zero of The John Jack and that the trip
to the Rockland County Tag was on. I was going to pick him up from his house at 4:30 AM
Saturday. Anatoli and Reinaldo where going to meet us there.
I arrived at his apartment at around 4:20 AM
and parked outside. At around 4:40 AM, I called him and woke him up! To make a long story
short, we left New York at 5:00 AM. I was worried that we where not going to make it in
time because it was the first time driving there for both of us. At this point, I want to
thank all those people who where going 90+ mph on the Garden State Parkway. We followed
many of them to our destination avoiding a speeding ticket.
We arrived just in time and joined Anatoli
and Reinaldo who where already there. We loaded our diving gear on The John Jack and
Captain Zero along with John and John prepared the boat. We left at around 7:05 AM.
You all remember that last week, Maggie
requested and I quote "The weather was uncooperative on Saturday -- I
specifically ordered calm seas, bright sunshine, a gentle breeze and temperature of 75
degrees, but was rewarded instead with high winds and 10 foot seas. I need to find out
whose fault that was so I can lodge an official complaint!" Well, I know what
happened. She or the Dude upstairs made a mistake with the date because we got the weather
she requested, only a week later. Well the temperature was a bit higher but that s OK.
At about 8:15 AM we arrived at the Rockland
County Tag site. Tony went through our dive plan and the buddy teams were assigned, Tony
with Anatoli and Reinaldo with me. I got suited up and followed Tony into the water. I
found him at 20 feet and we waited there for the others. We waited and waited and
waited... After about 12 minutes, Tony went to the surface to see what was going on. It
seems that Anatoli missed the line and drifted a bit away from the boat. Also, his waist
belt was not passed through one of his Halcyon Active Control Ballast (ACB) pockets. The
pocket with the weights was "flapping" on his side. He had to get on the boat
again, and fix it. About 15 minutes after I entered the water everybody was at 20 feet.
Tony gave the sign and we started out descent. I was first, followed by Reinaldo, Anatoli,
and finally Tony. When I reached the anchor line, I took a quick glance behind me,
verified that everybody was ready and started the final descent to the wreck.
It was beautiful; big, intact and at only 75
feet. Visibility was not that good, about 10 feet, but the temperature at the bottom was
70° F. Very good for Anatoli and Reinaldo who were wearing wet suits. We explored both
sides of the tug and Tony found a small lobster entangled on a fishing line. He promptly
freed the little fellow and I took a picture of him just before he released him. There
were big schools of fish all over the wreck but unfortunately, all of them where rude. As
soon as we approached them, they turned their back on us and went the other way. Tony must
have pissed off some of their relatives with his spear. Soon it was time to go up. We
ascended to 15 feet and did our precautionary 3 minutes stop. A few minutes later we were
all onboard The John Jack.
Captain Zero decided to take us to a
different wreck for our second dive. Very close to the Rockland County Tag is the wreck of
A. Frame. Two hours later, I was back in the water. The plan was that after 30 minutes of
bottom time, Anatoli and Reinaldo will end their dive and Tony and I will continue until I
reach 1000 psi. At that point I'll end my dive and Tony will continue. I was teamed up
with Reinaldo and Tony with Anatoli for the second dive also.
Our water entry was uneventful this time.
All of us were in the water in a short amount of time. When we reached the bottom,
visibility was bad; under 5 feet. The wreck was in pieces, some small, some big, scattered
on a large area on a sandy bottom. There was sand and lobsters all over the place (you
could see the lobsters - you couldn't catch them)! Because of the low visibility Tony ran
a line from the anchor.
Sometime during our decent, Tony lost his
lobster bag. When he caught this "monster" lobster, he had no place to put him.
Luckily, Captain Zero was near and he brought it up for him. We devoted 100% of our time
to lobster hunting. Anatoli and Reinaldo ended their dive after 30 minutes. I stayed with
Tony for another 20 minutes and then followed the line to the anchor and started my
ascent. Tony followed a bit later.
I believe everyone had a great time. The
weather, the sea, the boat and the crew were all very nice. We should dive this area
again. -- by Ioannis Hadjiioannou hex29@msn.com
I was on board the Wahoo, and was joined by her friends Art
& Tina from New Jersey. We went to the San Diego. The weather was pleasant, seas were
fairly calm, and the surface visibility was excellent. Water temp. at depth was reported
to be a nearly-tropical 61 degrees! Several divers reported seeing a Mola-Mola (Ocean
Sunfish) at about 10 feet, during their deco.
Unfortunately, visibility at the bottom was less than
excellent: actually it was the worst I've ever seen it at the San Diego, about 5 feet
outside the wreck, and about 6 feet inside. Inside, just looking at the wreck funny would
stir things up and reduce visibility instantly to mere inches. I dived with Janet. We did
penetrations in various parts of the wreck on its starboard side, and managed to have a
great time despite the limited visibility. We did a 90 minute bottom time, which earned me
58 minutes of deco on 50/50 and O2. -- by Maggie Owens
Sunday, August 22nd, 1999
The weather was uncooperative on Saturday -- I specifically
ordered calm seas, bright sunshine, a gentle breeze and temperature of 75 degrees, but was
rewarded instead with high winds and 10 foot seas. I need to find out whose fault that was
so I can lodge an official complaint! Needless to say, the Wahoo went nowhere. So I was a
little worried about what kind of conditions Sunday would bring. It turned out to be a
good day -- calm seas (less than 2 feet), a little cloudy and cool. Although it was not an
official Stingray trip, I saw a few Stingray customers on the boat. Tony took the day off
diving because of a stiff neck.
We arrived at the Oregon at around 9am. I finished getting
geared up just as we came up to the mooring and jumped in the water to attach a line to
the mooring (which was then attached to the Wahoo). It was my first time doing this. Hard
work, swimming against the current, but in retrospect, it was not that bad. Afterwards, I
climbed back on the boat, helped the customers gear up and waited while Hank and Mark went
diving. Everyone reported excellent visibility on the hang, a strong current all the way
down to the wreck, and unusually warm temperature at the bottom. They were not wrong!
Getting down the anchor line proved to be quite an effort.
It took me quite some time and effort to get down. After leaving our stage bottles tied up
on the top of the engine block, we dropped down over the port side and proceeded all the
way up to the bow. Because the current was blowing across the wreck from the starboard
side, we were not subject to much of it. Visibility was about 25 feet.
Janet picked up a giant monster of a lobster, which rewarded
her for her efforts by biting her light cord (luckily it just mashed it a little, and
didn't put any holes in it). I found some china buried under some stuff too heavy to push
aside -- a project for another day if I can relocate it. I found a decent size lobster
near the china, but it bit me, so I let go. No pain, no gain in this lobstering business,
I guess. Our plan was to return on the starboard side of the wreck, but when we arrived at
the bow, the current was blowing across the wreck like of hurricane, and we decided that
it would be more fun to stay on the port side. On our return to the engine, we swam
through a short corridor, with holes that used to contain some nice portholes. This was my
first time seeing the port side of the wreck forward of the engine, and I enjoyed it
immensely -- there's quite a bit to see there -- the whole thing is a debris field of
sorts, and the masts are laying in the sand. We ascended after 65 minutes on the bottom. I
had 46 minutes of decompression scheduled with 50/50 and O2 (I was using Nitrox 29 on the
bottom), but stayed a few extra minutes, because there was a small crowd at 10 feet, so I
did my 10 foot stop at 15 feet.
Janet reported that the current was almost as strong as the
current at the Doria on the Wahoo's last trip there.
On the way home, I watched a video shot by a dive master on
the Okeanos Aggressor, which my friend Randi had been on in July. They saw some pretty
impressive marine life. I was sad to have missed the trip, but at least I had a great time
here at home while she was away. -- by Maggie Owens
Sunday, August 15th, 1999
The Wahoo was pretty empty for a Sunday. Most of Saturday's
divers had enough punishment for one weekend and did not stay on board for Sunday. Too bad
for them! Once again, we went to the San Diego, and were blessed with surprisingly calm
conditions -- seas were less than two feet all day. It was unseasonably cool and a little
cloudy, so I was not as uncomfortable as usual getting into my dry suit.
I dived (dove? Anyone got a copy of Strunk handy?) with
Janet. We had planned to enter the wreck at one of the forward gun ports on the
"light" side, but Janet's primary light was flaking out, so we stayed outside
the wreck. We spent our 75 minutes of bottom time looking for lobsters and poking around
in the debris field. Looking into one hole in the side of the wreck near the bottom, a
yellow object caught my eye about 10 or 15 feet in, so I went inside to check it out.
Oddly enough, it turned out to be a small Clorox-style bottle, which was attached to a
post by means of a piece of rope or string. I wonder who put it there and why.
I was diving with Nitrox 28 in my doubles, and two 40 cu.
ft. bottles for deco -- one with 50/50 and one with O2. I had borrowed the bottle with
50/50 in it from my friend Randi for the Texas Tower trip that never was aboard the John
Jack last week. Normally Randi uses this bottle for Oxygen, and it is so marked (with big
two "Oxygen" stickers). Since she didn't need it back right away, I figured I
would try to use up some of the 50/50 so that it wouldn't all be wasted when I returned
the bottle to her full of pure O2. I meant to cover up the oxygen stickers with duct tape,
but somehow it slipped my mind. Before setting up my equipment, I had verified the
contents with an oxygen analyzer (it was actually 52%). There was a piece of tape on the
neck of the bottle indicating this. I didn't have any other bottles of Randi's on the
boat, and it's a pretty distinctive one -- she's the only person I know with silver 40 cu.
ft. bottles. My Oxygen bottle is yellow and also 40 cu. ft. As we were ascending, I draped
the regulator from Randi's bottle over my neck, turned it on, and purged the regulator a
couple of times to verify that it would deliver gas. I re-checked that the hose around my
neck belonged to this bottle, and when I reached 68 feet, I stuck it in my mouth and
started to breathe. Janet immediately noticed this and started gesturing frantically and
pointing to the oxygen stickers. I looked down at the neck and verified that the 50/50
sticker was there and tried to show it to Janet, but it seemed like she was moments from
ripping the reg. out of my mouth, so I spit it out and replaced the one from my back gas.
At this point, I had taken about a dozen breaths from the bottle. I looked at the bottle
again, thought back to what I had on the boat, remembered analyzing the bottle a couple of
hours before getting in the water, and remembered thinking that I should cover up the
big-ass "Oxygen" stickers with duct tape. I was *positive* that this was the
correct bottle, and that it contained 50/50. So I turned it around and showed the sticker
on the neck to Janet, assured her that it was "OK" and started breathing from it
again. I breathed it until my 20 foot stop, and was fine; switched to the O2 for my 20 and
10 foot stops. Another lesson learned -- if you're using a bottle for something
other than what it's marked for, re-mark it as appropriate for the current mix. I
should have been more conscientious about this, and just hope that I did not take too many
years off Janet's life with worry. What a stroke I am. But at least I am learning from my
mistakes! -- by Maggie Owens
Saturday, August 14th, 1999
Tony, Ioannis and Klaus joined me on the Wahoo for an
excursion to the San Diego. It was raining hard when I woke up at 6am to help get the boat
under way, and when we left the inlet, it was immediately quite rough. As I was signing in
the customers, I was wondering if Janet would turn the boat around, but we continued on to
the wreck. Seas were about five feet, with the occasional eight-footer rolling through,
and heavy winds. Some people on the boat were too sick to move, much less dive, but Tony,
Ioannis and Klaus were undeterred, and were among the first to enter the water! Since I
know that Ioannis is not at fault for sloppy sea conditions, I have now determined that it
must be Klaus' fault! <g> Despite somewhat limited visibility and an uncomfortable
hang at best, they all had a great time. Tony brought up a huge blackfish -- probably
about five pounds. I decided to stay out of the water, hoping that Sunday would be a
better day. -- by Maggie Owens
Saturday, August 7, 1999
| Tony and I joined Eileen on the John Jack for a
Sea Gypsies club dive. The destination was to be
an overnight on the Texas Tower, so I had two sets of doubles with trimix: one with
22/27/51 and one with 19/34/47, plus four sling bottles: two with 50/50 and two with 100%
O2. Tony had one set of doubles with 22/27/51 and one set with air. He also had four sling
bottles with the same gases I did. In addition, we each had argon bottles (I always dive
with argon in the Northeast, but Tony generally only uses it when he's diving with trimix)
and all our regular gear -- two boxes of gear, two bags of gear, two bags of clothes, two
sleeping bags, a small cooler and a tool box. I guess we finally figured out how much gear
we can put in our Hyundai Excel -- it was FULL! |
Eileen relaxing in the Captain's chair |
Due to anticipated bad sea conditions, we did not go all the
way to the Texas Tower: instead we went to the R.P. Resor (max depth approx. 130 feet). I
did one dive and Tony did two.
Tony did his second dive Saturday night and got
three nice lobsters, the biggest of which was nearly six pounds. He reported that the
six-pounder was very tasty. Here's a picture of it (after cooking):  |
 |
I had mixed feelings about diving the Resor instead of the
Tower. On one hand, I've wanted to dive the Resor for a long time; on the other hand, I
haven't made it to the Tower yet this year, I was looking forward to diving it, and the
gas I had was really not appropriate for a 130 foot dive. In addition, I had generated a
full set of tables for 22/27/51, 19/34/47 and air to depths of both 190 and 160 feet,
complete with bailout schedules in case of loss or failure of 50/50, O2 or both. Of course
I had my laptop with me so that I could generate additional dive profiles should we end up
at a different wreck or decide to dive a different depth at the Tower. I was surprised to
discover that the John Jack does not normally provide AC power, so I was unable to use my
laptop to generate tables for the R.P. Resor (I don't have a battery for my boat laptop).
Luckily, Captain Zero had his laptop, with a fully charged battery, and he generated
tables for me (for the 22/27/51 mix with the 50/50 and O2 for deco) using MigPlan. I guess
I was a little stressed out about not being able to use my own computer with the software
I'm used to (Decom), so I neglected to ask him to generate bailout schedules for me. I
realized that I had no bailout schedules as I was getting ready to go in the water and
decided that it wouldn't hurt go to go without them "just this once." Tony
decided to dive air and follow the plan dictated by his Nitek 3.
Although it was a little rough when we got to the Resor, it
settled down to about 2 feet by the time Tony and I got in the water. Surface viz. was
60-80 feet and very blue. At depth, it was rather dark, but the viz. was around 30 feet.
As usual, Tony and I secured our stage bottles to the wreck near the anchor line. We were
tied in to a high, intact portion of the wreck. Just below the anchor line, there was a
large hole in the wreck which led to a large cavernous room with beautiful blue-green
shining through the many exits. We explored the room briefly and then exited on the far
side to hunt for lobsters. (Actually, I was mainly sightseeing and watching Tony look for
lobsters.) After about 20 minutes, I realized that I could no longer see the large
structure (the incredible viz. on the way down had fooled me into a false sense of
security), and I decided it would be best to re-locate it before doing anything else. I
signaled Tony to ask him where the anchor line was. He indicated that he wasn't sure, so
we started swimming in the direction we thought it was. We did find a large intact portion
of the wreck, but not the part we had been on at the beginning of our dive. The Sea Inn
was also on the wreck, and we saw a few divers from it below us. At 32 minutes, we saw the
anchor line for the Sea Inn and decided to go ascend on it, figuring that we were unlikely
to find our own anchor line in a reasonable amount of time and this would be better than
shooting a bag. Unfortunately our stage bottles were still at the bottom of the John
Jack's anchor line! Tony was fortunate that he had his Nitek 3 which 0indicated about 30
minutes of deco on air.
Murphy stepped in. The first time I ever had occasion to
need a bailout schedule, I didn't have one! I decided that the best plan of action would
be to make each of the stops for the 40 minute table 10 feet deeper and multiply it by
three. I wasn't sure what to do about the 10 foot stop, but decided I had plenty of time
to think about it and deal with it later. To start off with, I ascended VERY slowly and
stopped for a minute or two at 70 feet. Then I did six minutes at 60 feet and 18 minutes
at 50 feet. In the middle of the 50 foot stop, a diver appeared with a stage bottle and an
illegible note from Tony on his slate. I couldn't read any of the note (except for my
name, and I could recognize the handwriting as Tony's), but the diver wrote on the slate
to ask me if I needed deco gas. I nodded vigorously and yelled "YES!" through my
regulator. He gave me the stage bottle he was carrying which had "77" marked
prominently on the neck. I was unsure whether "77" was the MOD or the mix. I
made a pantomime of putting the regulator in my mouth, but the diver didn't seem to
understand, as he gave me no signal about whether or not this was okay. So I pointed to
the 77 and yelled "MOD" through the regulator, but he didn't seem to understand
that either. Finally he sensed that I was confused, so he wrote "This is 77%" on
my slate. At this point, I realized with alarm that I had risen to 40 feet during the
confusion, gave the diver an okay sign and descended back to 50 feet to complete my stop
there. (I never did find out who the diver was, but whoever he was, I hope he reads this
and accepts my profuse thanks!) At 40 feet (still too deep to use the 77%, the MOD of
which I guessed to be around 35 feet) I did a 21 minute stop. Finally, at 30 feet, I knew
I was shallow enough to use the 77% (since I used to dive with "stroke mix" --
80% -- and I knew the MOD of that was 30 feet, I was sure to be safe breathing the 77% at
30 feet). I decided to do seven minutes at 30 feet (the stop time using 50/50 at 30 feet
would have been six minutes). In the middle of this stop, the diver who had given me the
77% appeared and asked me if I had enough gas. The bottle, which I think was a LP 46,
still had about 3000 PSI in it, so I signaled him that I was okay. He asked me how much
time I had left, and I wrote "50 mins" on my slate. He gave me an "ok"
and descended quickly. Soon after, I ascended to 20 feet, where in my original dive plan,
I would have switched to O2 for seven minutes. I figured that 14 minutes on 77% should
make up for that. In the middle of my 20 foot stop, Capt. Zero appeared with a bottle of
O2, wearing nothing but his underwear! I gave him the 77% bottle and took the O2 bottle,
then switched to my back gas as I followed him against a moderately strong current back to
the John Jack breathing my back gas. I was a little concerned about exerting myself in the
middle of a deco that I was unsure was sufficient, but felt I he must have some good
reason to take me away from my comfortable new home on the Sea Inn's anchor line, so I
followed. Back at the John Jack, I switched back to my O2, for a total of 14 minutes at 20
feet (some of which was on my back gas during the swim). At 10 feet, I decided to double
the planned 10 foot stop of 15 minutes to 30 on O2. After completing that stop, I switched
to my back gas, clipped the O2 off to my equipment line and got back on the boat, feeling
pretty good, all things considered. Although I continued to feel fine, to be safe, I
decided to forgo a second dive and a night dive. We didn't get to do any dives on Sunday
-- we just returned to the dock, since the wind and waves had started to kick up. Below
are my planned, Decom-recommended and actual deco schedules for the dive in run times.
(Note that I input the gases actually used into Decom, and input the 20 foot stop as
bottom gas for conservatism.)
| |
MigPan Schedule |
Decom |
Actual schedule |
| depth |
run time |
gas |
run time |
gas |
run time |
gas |
| 130 |
40 |
22/27/51 |
32 |
22/27/51 |
32 |
22/57/21 |
| 80 |
|
|
39 |
22/27/51 |
|
|
| 70 |
|
|
40 |
22/27/51 |
|
|
| 60 |
|
|
41 |
22/27/51 |
49 |
22/57/21 |
| 50 |
41 |
50/50 |
42 |
22/27/51 |
67 |
22/57/21 |
| 40 |
43 |
50/50 |
48 |
22/27/51 |
87 |
22/57/21 |
| 30 |
49 |
50/50 |
53 |
77/23 |
95 |
77/23 |
| 20 |
56 |
O2 |
74 |
22/27/51 |
119 |
77/23, 22/57/21 and O2 |
| 10 |
71 |
O2 |
89 |
O2 |
149 |
O2 |
In the end, I ended up okay. I didn't panic, and I think,
all things considered, I handled the situation well. But I learned a couple of important
lessons:
- Don't swim around without your deco bottles without running a
reel unless you are absolutely positive you'll be able to find your way back to them when
you're done!
- ALWAYS carry a bailout schedule when diving trimix. If you
don't have a full compliment of bailout schedules, exercise ONO. ("Option Number
One" -- skip the dive.)
In the interest of "better safe than sorry," I
decided not to do any more diving until Sunday. Sunday, unfortunately was quite rough --
we spent several hours steaming home in heavy seas.
Sunday, August 1, 1999
Not as calm a day as Saturday, but a little cooler. The
Wahoo visited the San Diego again. Randi lent me her new HID light to try out. It was really
bright! Tony and A.J. joined me for another excursion to the torpedo room. Once we got in
there, things got a little silty, and Tony, who was ahead of me, soon gave me the signal
to exit. I confirmed it, gave him the "OK" and followed the line to the exit.
But Randi's light was so bright that I could not tell if Tony and A.J. were following me
or not, and it is too tight to turn around in the exit corridor without stirring up even
more silt. When I got out, they were not behind me, so I started to return to make sure
everything was okay, shining the light a little behind me so I could see theirs if they
approached. They appeared in short order. It was time for A.J. to ascend, but Tony and I
still had thirty minutes of planned bottom time remaining, so I took Tony to the other
side of the wreck to show him some of my favorite places in there. Just as I was about to
tie off, his light went out -- the head was flooded. So, we swam back to the stern and
looked around there for a while, harassed some flounders and ascended with a total bottom
time of 52 minutes. -- by Maggie Owens.
Saturday, July 31, 1999
Well this is the report Maggie Has been
waiting for. After driving 2 hours to get to the Wahoo Bill and I brought all of our
equipment aboard drank 2 beers and went in the sleeping quarters for the night which
lasted about 2 minutes(when Tony says bring a fan do what he says he knows what he's
talking about). So the care became our room for the night. Awaking bright and early on
Saturday I was presently surprised to see Ioannis at the dock. He and I were paired up at
Dutch Springs a month prior to do our first part of the advanced open water. He told me
all the grisly details of his last boat outing, I hope this would happen today because I
want to see a sunken ship and am not up for a shark dive. So off we go as we start the
trek out to the San Diego Ioannis, Bill and myself talk about the dive at hand. I have to
admit that I was a little nervous ,being my first wreck and boat dive (Tony doesn't think
that a Zodiac is a boat). Also to add to my inferiority complex were all the sets of
double tanks and nitrox equipped divers. As we pulled up to the site all nervousness left
and I could not wait to get into the water. Just one problem there was no sight of Tony,
did we leave him back on shore? Much to my relief he came up from below (he doesn't look
like morning person). After Tony gave his pre dive speech we suited up and dove in,
luckily Tony went in first because I must have forgotten to attach my lift bag and the
crew didn't notice it either. After entering the water with a giant stride entry (10 out
of 10 hey I have to blow my own horn every once in a while) the lift bag came off and Tony
saved it for me (thanks Tony). We finally made it down to the line to the wreck nice sight
to see visibility was about 10 feet pretty good as I usually don't get more then 5 when I
dive. After a very brief bottom time we slowly made are ascent to the surface. The second
dive was just as good and surprisingly it was comfortable to dive in a wet suit. Once on
board my dive partner and I were very pleased that everything went well and we both had a
good time. On the way back we finished all of our paperwork with Tony and sat back to
reflect on the days events. Tony had caught 4 "bugs" and he gave each one of us
2. Thanks to Tony and Ioannis For a great day and to Maggie for getting me to do this dive
report. Well I hope I didn't bore any one and remember I did the best I could to write the
report I am not the sharpest crayon in the box. -- by Matt Errich
And Maggie Owens says: I was joined on the Wahoo by Tony,
Hector, Mark "Drop Your Pants Bitch" Melendez (If you don't get the reference,
check out the recent HID thread on Techdiver.), Ioannis, Matt and Bill. The weather buoy
was pessimistic when it predicted 2 foot seas -- it was a really calm day. (I guess it
isn't Ioannis' fault when we get rough seas, after all!) Everybody had a great time.
As I was gearing up, I discovered that somebody wrote
"Boat Monkee" on the bottom of my tank boots. I think it was Tony, but he claims
innocence! Visibility on the outside of the San Diego was about 25 feet. For a change of
pace, I visited the "torpedo room" for the first time this season with Mark,
then spent some time playing around in the stern.
Wednesday, July 28th, 1999
I decided to play hooky for the day and go dive the San
Diego. Conditions were just about perfect -- calm seas, at least 35 feet of visibility on
the outside of the wreck and warm water (it was in the low to mid 70's from 30 feet up!)
For the first time this season, I spent a large part of my dive appreciating the outside
of the wreck, and I was awestruck, as always by its sheer size and magnificence. -- by
Maggie Owens
Sunday, July 25th, 1999
Conditions at the Oregon were fantastic! The water was
pretty flat and windless, with the occasional large roller going through. Visibility at
the bottom was about 30-35 feet, and the temperature was 48 degrees -- still a little
chilly, but warmer than the last time I was there. I did only 37 minutes on the bottom on
Nitrox 29 before my hands got cold, but it was one of my best dives on this wreck so far
this season.
The Oregon sank in 1886 when it was struck by a schooner. It
was 518 feet long and 54 feet wide. Today, the wreck, which is very broken up, rests at
130 feet. Artifacts can still be found on it (we've seen portholes, china and jewelry come
up, but bottles are the most common) and there's lots of marine life. It's a very colorful
wreck if you have a halfway decent light. -- by Maggie Owens
Saturday, July 24th, 1999
Conditions at the San Diego were better than last week. Seas
were about 2-4 feet. On the bottom, visibility outside the wreck was about 25 feet, and
over 30 feet inside. I did 55 minutes of bottom time on Nitrox 28. -- by Maggie Owens
Saturday, July 17th, 1999
Tony and I were joined by Frank, Greg, Klaus, Ioannis and
Pete on the Wahoo. We went to the San Diego. The San Diego was an armored cruiser that
struck a German mine and sank six miles off the south shore of Long Island in 1918. (A new
theory put forth states that it was sabotaged from within by a German spy, but this is not
well-accepted.) The wreck is about 500 feet long and sits upside down. The top is at about
70 feet, and the bottom is around 110. If you are interested in a detailed history of this
ship (before and after sinking), you should check out Gary Gentile's book, "The USS
San Diego - The Last Armored Cruiser." (Guess what, we have a few copies for sale at
the shop.)
Water at this wreck has been much warmer than any of the
other wrecks I've been to so far this year -- in the low to mid 50's.
The water was a little rough in the beginning of the day,
but flattened out some later on. Decompression was bouncy, and visibility at decompression
depth was about 5 feet -- at one point during my ascent, I saw a Jon line, but could not
see the diver at the end of it! (Yes, there was someone there.) At the bottom, outside the
wreck, visibility was about 15 feet, but dark. Inside, the visibility was about 30 feet,
which is typical inside the San Diego, although as I swam towards the bow, it dropped to
about 10 feet.
Quite a number of lobsters were brought up by divers that
day.
I did a short dive compared to my typical San Diego dive --
only 40 minutes of bottom time on Nitrox 29 with O2 for deco. -- by Maggie Owens.
Friday, July 16th, 1999
On board the Wahoo, Tony and I were supposed to go to the
Texas Tower, but conditions were too rough to make the long ride (6-7 hours) out. So we
slept late and then went to the movies and saw "South Park." -- by Maggie Owens
Sunday, July 11th, 1999
We went on board the Jeanne II to the Stolt Dagali. When we
arrived, a small private dive boat was anchored on the wreck, but there was enough room
for us, too. (The other dive boat was getting ready to leave anyway.) The depth of the
Stolt is 70-130 feet, and it's in the Gulf Stream, which generally means warmer and
clearer water in the summer. We found it a little chilly, though (not as cold as the
Balaena the day before) and visibility was about 30 feet. The bottom was practically
carpeted with big flounders, surely a spearfisherman's dream! Tony caught a big lobster
with no claws.
Shortly after we arrived on the wreck, the Dina Dee anchored
on a nearby wreck and assisted a small fishing boat in distress. The fishing boat had
taken on water. The passengers collected some of their gear and got on board the Dina Dee
to await the Coast Guard. After some time, when there was no apparent change in the
condition of their vessel, the owners went back on board to retrieve more of their gear.
One of them spent some time standing on the side of the boat that had taken on water.
Shortly after they got back on the Dina Dee, the boat flipped over, but did not sink
completely. The Coast Guard came, and shortly thereafter a tow boat came, presumably to
bring the vessel back to port and attempt to salvage it. I was very disappointed because I
was hoping there would be a new wreck to dive right by the Stolt! -- by Maggie Owens
Saturday, July 10th, 1999
We went on board the John Jack to the Balaena, which sits at
the edge of the mud hole in 160 feet of water. It's a wooden schooner and covered with
anemones. The water at the bottom was in the low 40's, but on the hang it was 68 degrees.
Visibility at the bottom was about 15 feet, and it was very dark. John and Pete were
with us for the day. Tony and I did one dive -- about 17 minutes of bottom time on trimix
24/23/53 and 35 minutes of deco on 50/50 and O2. -- by Maggie Owens
|
