Where was your deepest, most interesting, and/or most challenging night dive?

[asha]

My most memorable was last December, soon after I had moved to San Diego. We were shore diving at La Jolla Shores, and from the beach we could see a huge congregation of cormorants and other seabirds a couple hundred yards offshore. We swam out to it and dropped into water so thick with squid, I could barely tell which way was up. It turns out the squid were running, and it was incredible. They were attracted to my canister light and my camera strobes. There were several moments where I'd feel a tug at my camera, and a squid would be attached to one or both strobe arms (attempting to mate with it?). When we were following the bottom contour back to shore, hundreds of squid followed me across the sand. I felt like the pied piper of squid. So cool!

Some photos and a video on my blog here: http://www.ashleyhauck.com/blog/2012/03/11/san-diego-california-the-running-of-the-squid/

 

[dwhthediver]

During my AOW 11 years ago was my most challenging and deepest one. We were 2 students and did not receive the PADI Manual during the class (bought it later when I went to the US). Our instructor gave us each one a divelight, and since we did not have the manual we did not know that we should have a back up each. After 10 minute dive, my light went out. After 15 minute dive, my buddy's light went out. The only light left was the instructor's which I used to read what depth we were at: 90 ft. So, OK. We continued to follow the instructor until I saw that his light was getting lower too!! I tugged at my buddy and signaled that we should go back to the surface. So with the help of a dim dive light and hugging my buddy really tight, we went up. The instructor later was a bit mad at us because we ended the dive instead of him. But lesson learned: I am always checking my gear before each dive and don't trust anybody else to do it.

My AOW dives were all quite challenging - another story is my AOW deep dive: to 190 ft. More lessons learned on that particular dive.

Numerous standards violations... hope he isn't an instructor any longer.

 

[Tropicalwolf]

Most memorable was probably a night dive in the Gulf of Mexico back in 1992. Middle of tropical storm, ten foot swells, lightning striking the water. You could see the lightning flash and pulse through the water at depth. It was amazing to see.

 

[TSandM]

My most memorable night dive was also one of the worst dives I've ever done.

It was shortly after I had taken my GUE Fundamentals class, and I was avid to get out and practice. My instructor, Steve, was running the occasional Wednesday evening dive at a local site, and he had sent out an e-mail that he was doing one that week. Two dives were planned, one at 3:30 and one at 6:00. It was January, and 6 pm in Seattle is pitch dark at that time of year, so I was planning on attending the first dive, until I saw the list of people coming. They were ALL far, far more experienced than I was, and I was severely intimidated. But I squared my shoulders and told myself that everyone has to be a beginner, and the purpose of the dives was to get out and polish skills and learn, and I had as much a right to be there as anyone else.

It was a bad beginning, and nothing got better. I arrived at the site, to find that one of the scheduled divers had been delayed, and we were waiting for him. I thought I should simply repack my gear and go home, but I decided to play it by ear, and see just how low the sun was when he arrived.

It was low. I should have gone home, but I had all my gear out and ready to put on, so I thought I would give it the old college try.

The plan was to get in the water, go down to about 15 feet, and do a round of air-sharing drills. I was assigned a buddy with about 300 dives (to my 65 or so) who was in double tanks and had some technical training. I was feeling very unsure of myself, and it only got worse when we tried to do our drills, and I could not maintain buoyancy in the dark water. Up I went, and up my buddy went, until he actually went over backwards. We surfaced, and I could tell my buddy was frustrated and furious. The instructor came up to us and asked, "What's going on, guys?" I offered, "I'm having trouble, and Charles is very frustrated with me." The instructor looked at us dispassionately and said, "Well, you don't HAVE to do this. You can just go diving. But this is what WE do; we start the dive with drills." Of course, at that point, I was going to get the damned drill done or die trying, and we went back down and muddled through it.

Off we went on the tour portion of the dive. I was rattled and shaken and not very happy, and I got disoriented in the dark and had buoyancy issues, and ended up hanging onto a piece of structure, trying to get myself back in order. The end of the dive couldn't come soon enough, and I was deeply relieved when the other team signaled that it was time to ascend.

They were going to shoot a bag, and we were all going to do a stepped ascent, stopping every ten feet. Once the line was there as a reference, we started up -- at which point I found out that I could not read my computer well enough to see my depth in the dark. (It had been okay earlier in the dive, when it was just dusky, but once it got pitch-black, I was out of luck.) I drifted off the line, and found myself in inky black water, with no visual reference at all, and no depth gauge. I started yo-yoing violently, and my buddy was eventually completely overwhelmed, and the instructor came in and physically controlled me and my ascent, and got me to the surface . . . at which point my weight belt fell off.

I had to tell the instructor, who sighed (thinking, I am sure, "Why did I ever get involved with this woman?"). And then I informed him that it hadn't gone to the bottom, but was caught on my crotch strap (a nice thing about crotch straps). So he had my lie on my back with my legs spread, and he dove underneath me, and caught the weight belt and rearranged it. All the time I was thinking that about the only thing I could have thought of to make the dive worse than it was, was to have my instructor fumbling between my legs to fix my gear . . .

I got out of the water, and walked up to the sea wall and sat down, and desperately tried to control my tears. My very sweet dive buddy sat down with me and talked pleasantly about his father and growing up and trying to do things well. I appreciated his kindness, and the kindness of the instructor who helped me get my gear back to the car.

I could not even exchange pleasantries with my buddy of that night for several years, until he asked to attend an event I arranged at my house. At that event, I spoke to him about that night's dive . . . and he did not remember it at all. An experience that had made me avoid him for years had not even registered on his radar. I was truly nonplussed.

I have since learned to love night diving, and even learned to do, and enjoy, night skills dives.

 

[dumpsterDiver]

My most memorable night dive was also one of the worst dives I've ever done.

It was shortly after I had taken my GUE Fundamentals class, and I was avid to get out and practice. My instructor, Steve, was running the occasional Wednesday evening dive at a local site, and he had sent out an e-mail that he was doing one that week. Two dives were planned, one at 3:30 and one at 6:00. It was January, and 6 pm in Seattle is pitch dark at that time of year, so I was planning on attending the first dive, until I saw the list of people coming. They were ALL far, far more experienced than I was, and I was severely intimidated. But I squared my shoulders and told myself that everyone has to be a beginner, and the purpose of the dives was to get out and polish skills and learn, and I had as much a right to be there as anyone else.

It was a bad beginning, and nothing got better. I arrived at the site, to find that one of the scheduled divers had been delayed, and we were waiting for him. I thought I should simply repack my gear and go home, but I decided to play it by ear, and see just how low the sun was when he arrived.

It was low. I should have gone home, but I had all my gear out and ready to put on, so I thought I would give it the old college try.

The plan was to get in the water, go down to about 15 feet, and do a round of air-sharing drills. I was assigned a buddy with about 300 dives (to my 65 or so) who was in double tanks and had some technical training. I was feeling very unsure of myself, and it only got worse when we tried to do our drills, and I could not maintain buoyancy in the dark water. Up I went, and up my buddy went, until he actually went over backwards. We surfaced, and I could tell my buddy was frustrated and furious. The instructor came up to us and asked, "What's going on, guys?" I offered, "I'm having trouble, and Charles is very frustrated with me." The instructor looked at us dispassionately and said, "Well, you don't HAVE to do this. You can just go diving. But this is what WE do; we start the dive with drills." Of course, at that point, I was going to get the damned drill done or die trying, and we went back down and muddled through it.

Off we went on the tour portion of the dive. I was rattled and shaken and not very happy, and I got disoriented in the dark and had buoyancy issues, and ended up hanging onto a piece of structure, trying to get myself back in order. The end of the dive couldn't come soon enough, and I was deeply relieved when the other team signaled that it was time to ascend.

They were going to shoot a bag, and we were all going to do a stepped ascent, stopping every ten feet. Once the line was there as a reference, we started up -- at which point I found out that I could not read my computer well enough to see my depth in the dark. (It had been okay earlier in the dive, when it was just dusky, but once it got pitch-black, I was out of luck.) I drifted off the line, and found myself in inky black water, with no visual reference at all, and no depth gauge. I started yo-yoing violently, and my buddy was eventually completely overwhelmed, and the instructor came in and physically controlled me and my ascent, and got me to the surface . . . at which point my weight belt fell off.

I had to tell the instructor, who sighed (thinking, I am sure, "Why did I ever get involved with this woman?"). And then I informed him that it hadn't gone to the bottom, but was caught on my crotch strap (a nice thing about crotch straps). So he had my lie on my back with my legs spread, and he dove underneath me, and caught the weight belt and rearranged it. All the time I was thinking that about the only thing I could have thought of to make the dive worse than it was, was to have my instructor fumbling between my legs to fix my gear . . .

I got out of the water, and walked up to the sea wall and sat down, and desperately tried to control my tears. My very sweet dive buddy sat down with me and talked pleasantly about his father and growing up and trying to do things well. I appreciated his kindness, and the kindness of the instructor who helped me get my gear back to the car.

I could not even exchange pleasantries with my buddy of that night for several years, until he asked to attend an event I arranged at my house. At that event, I spoke to him about that night's dive . . . and he did not remember it at all. An experience that had made me avoid him for years had not even registered on his radar. I was truly nonplussed.

I have since learned to love night diving, and even learned to do, and enjoy, night skills dives.

I still enjoy reading how terrible you were....

---------- Post added ----------

Possibly my most memorable night dive was my first. I had just been certified (at 13 yrs old) and had done maybe a dozen dives , a few were solo. So I set out on my first solo night dive in a very dark lake in Vermont off the dock of a cabin we were staying at. The bottom was 3 foot thick fine silt with heavy weeds and the visibility was maybe 8 feet and the depth was 12-15 ft.

I had no lights on shore, no compass and was pretty nervous. It was a very dark night with no moon. I went down the dock and got into the water and was doing ok, but it was a little disorienting with no real visual reference to follow up or down or in or out, just mud and weeds and a few fish. It was quiet and still with most of the fish "sleeping" except for a catfish or two..pretty spooky.

I may have been down 5-10 minutes and I bent over to touch something and when I straightened up, something was slamming me from behind!!.. I was totally freaked and spun around frantically looking for what was hitting me on my low back. There was nothing behind me, but whatever it was, was still hitting me in the low back.

I spun around again and again with my very bright (10-D-cell allen light) and saw nothing. I probably spun around a few more times, and then kinda got a grip.... SOMETHING was wedged under my backpack.....

I bent down a little and litterally felt the fish pop out of there. Apparently when I bent down, it opened up a gap between the backpack and my lower back and somehow a large sunfish instantly shot into that gap and because I had a suit on, I didn't feel it, but when I straighten up, it trapped the fish perfectly in the arch of my lower back...which totally freaked the fish out .. and no amount of spinning and looking behind would dislodge it... until I bent over and released the pressure.

It sounds ridiculously silly now, but at the time, it scared the hell out of me for a good 45 seconds.. How the heck does something like that happen?

 

[MXGratefulDiver]

I still enjoy reading how terrible you were....

... it was even more fun experiencing it ...

... Bob (Grateful Diver)

 

[CaveMD]

One of my favorites was the first time I came out of Jackson blue at night. I had been down for close to two hours and had about an hour of deco in the cavern. The way the spring pool lights up with a 21w hid reflecting off the surface was picture worthy. I had a lot of fun entertaining myself making shadow puppets against the wall...you do silly things to entertain yourself when you have an hour of deco and no one else around.

Sent from my MB860 using Tapatalk 2

 

[Griffo]

I'll never forget my first night dive. I had done a couple of dusk dives, so was keen for a proper, true night dive off a boat.
I was so violently ill on the ride to the dive site however, I struggled to assemble my gear. I only jumped in as I thought it would lessen the sea sickness.
I then spent a miserable 40 minutes following people trying my hardest not to feed the fishes.
Back the boat i was then violently ill again, and dropped my regs and broke them.

My next night dive was a dream however, I felt a special level of satisfaction when the instructor remarked how well I held my buoyancy on the stop while shooting the SMB. Thanks gue


Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk HD

 

[divin'dog]

I remember doing a night dive somewhere in the Caribbean... It was a full moon and the plan was to go down with our lights on, but then at the signal we would all shut our lights off for a while and let our eyes get used to the dark. It was like being in a darkened room with the street lights coming in. Amazing what you could see by the light of the moon. It was creepy at first, but when I got used to it, I loved it. Now I shut off my light on every night dive for a while, sometimes diving by the light of others. Other times I'll cover my light just enough to see what's there with the light coming through the cracks of my fingers. It feels more natural when my light is off and that I'm less intrusive with the creatures that live down there. Still creepy though when you look back into the black abyss behind you... brrrr...

 

[1thumper]

About ten of us took a trip to Maldives, staying at Reethi Beach Resort. Overall, the dive center and the diving there were underwhelming but the highlight of the trip was a shore-based night dive we decided to take in the lagoon.

As background, every day in the late afternoon the resort staff conduct a stingray&shark feeding from the shore (no comment about the ecological correctness of this, but it was very popular with many "land people"). There would be about 30 very large stingrays and a handful of nurse and reef sharks that would attend, they come up to eat and then disappear

A buddy and I decided to do a night dive in the lagoon, as it happened not far from where this feeding is held. First 10-15 minutes of the dive were quiet, cruising over the sand and small reefs look for macro subjects to photograph. Then somehow as we got deeper (about 5 meters) we wandered into the night cruising area of the rays. We quickly understood what it must have been like in WWII on a ship under a massive dive bomber attack. Every minutes or so from various directions, rays would rapidly come cruising out of the darkness. Maybe because it was night, they had zero fear of us and would not divert at all from their path if we happened to be in it. These were big stingrays, mostly 1.5-2 meters in diameter. They would go over us, under us, or literally brush as they passed at the same depth. We had relative tight-beamed lights, so their appearance would be sudden and close. They came in singles, or in formations of 2-3. The most dramatic case encounter was when my buddy was about 12 inches off the bottom shooting video with his compact camera in one hand while spotlighting some rays with his light in the other, when a large ray came in and then right beneath him. Ok, there is 12 inches between his chest and the sand, and a 2 meter ray with a body depth of maybe 8-10 inches is squeezing under at some speed...thoughts of Steve Irwin clearly in his head, the arch that my buddy suddenly made to make some clearance was amazing...kind of like watching a high-jumper arc over the bar. The action went on for about 45 minutes, at which point we had been sucking gas so fast that we were low on air and had to retreat.

Amazing, and of many night dives it's the one we could never forget.