wreckedinri
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Finally; we had a decent weekend to head out and do a real wreck dive. I hooked up with my buddies, Harry and Jan, and we set our sights on the wreck of the tug boat Baleen outside of Boston Harbor. NOAA’s forecasted 2-3 foot seas were absent as we cruised from Weymouth on glass smooth rollers undulating like putting greens. The day could only be better if there was a mooring on the wreck and the visibility was good. At a hundred yards from the site our first wish came true as Jan spied the white pot-buoy with a large loop sticking out of the water, a sure sign of a mooring. Once we tied off and set the gerri line our second wish seemed to come true as we could almost see where the mooring and gerri line came together at almost 100 feet down!
In no time Harry and I rolled in. Together we descended in clear view of one another even when we were parted by as much as 50 feet. However, New England reality quickly reared its head when passing 100 fsw or so we entered what can best be described as diving through the outflow of the Boston sewerage system. With a 50 watt halogen fired up I could barely see the top of Harry’s head as I was above him with his fins at my chest. We settled on the wreck at the mooring’s tie-in point and affixed a strobe. I could see that we were tied near to a rail, so I set off following it with Harry in tow. With the vis as bad as it was, the plan was to negotiate my way around the site using the rail. That way we would be sure to get back to our line. Periodically, I would turn to check my partner and find him at my fin tips, only to see his HID light looking like a glowing tangerine. We worked our way along what I thought was the port rail. After about 5 minutes of seeing nothing but gunk, sea snot, and only rusty metal plating within 12 inches of my light, I thought that I would drop down to the bottom and head back aft and check out the counter stern, screw and rudder. I also thought that perhaps the visibility may be better . . . it wasn’t.
Alighting on the gravely bottom at the base of this steel wall, we headed back towards the stern, I soon realized that I was heading the wrong way and that we were heading towards the bow. We were not tied in at the stern, as I originally thought, but the bow. Like a distant lightning storm on a dark August night, looking up I could see the faint pulsating flashes of my strobe. At that point Harry and I ascended to the deck and looked at each other as if to say; “what the heck are we doing here”? With that, we decided to punch-out and leave this freezing bowl of stew and head to the surface. Once we hit 100 fsw we had lovely conditions with great vis to hang in and do our stops.
After apprising Jan of the conditions he decided not to do the dive. With all things considered, it was still a good day to get out and dive. Gearing up, diving in less than favorable conditions, doing gas switches and stops, is never an exercise in futility. It merely makes diving on the “good” days that much easier, and more importantly; safer.
Hopefully, the next time that we are out there, the good visibility will follow us to the bottom.
Next week; the Pinthis . . . let’s add another layer of underwear!:11:
In no time Harry and I rolled in. Together we descended in clear view of one another even when we were parted by as much as 50 feet. However, New England reality quickly reared its head when passing 100 fsw or so we entered what can best be described as diving through the outflow of the Boston sewerage system. With a 50 watt halogen fired up I could barely see the top of Harry’s head as I was above him with his fins at my chest. We settled on the wreck at the mooring’s tie-in point and affixed a strobe. I could see that we were tied near to a rail, so I set off following it with Harry in tow. With the vis as bad as it was, the plan was to negotiate my way around the site using the rail. That way we would be sure to get back to our line. Periodically, I would turn to check my partner and find him at my fin tips, only to see his HID light looking like a glowing tangerine. We worked our way along what I thought was the port rail. After about 5 minutes of seeing nothing but gunk, sea snot, and only rusty metal plating within 12 inches of my light, I thought that I would drop down to the bottom and head back aft and check out the counter stern, screw and rudder. I also thought that perhaps the visibility may be better . . . it wasn’t.
Alighting on the gravely bottom at the base of this steel wall, we headed back towards the stern, I soon realized that I was heading the wrong way and that we were heading towards the bow. We were not tied in at the stern, as I originally thought, but the bow. Like a distant lightning storm on a dark August night, looking up I could see the faint pulsating flashes of my strobe. At that point Harry and I ascended to the deck and looked at each other as if to say; “what the heck are we doing here”? With that, we decided to punch-out and leave this freezing bowl of stew and head to the surface. Once we hit 100 fsw we had lovely conditions with great vis to hang in and do our stops.
After apprising Jan of the conditions he decided not to do the dive. With all things considered, it was still a good day to get out and dive. Gearing up, diving in less than favorable conditions, doing gas switches and stops, is never an exercise in futility. It merely makes diving on the “good” days that much easier, and more importantly; safer.
Hopefully, the next time that we are out there, the good visibility will follow us to the bottom. Next week; the Pinthis . . . let’s add another layer of underwear!:11:
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