I had a diving date with NW Grateful Diver tonight. It was something I had planned and arranged ahead of time, and was counting on.
It was one of those dives where so many little things go wrong that you begin to wonder if you are not supposed to make this dive. There were several things where we had to regroup and rethink our dive plan, culminating with making our descent and discovering my primary light wouldn't strike. But I had a backup light, and Bob had a backup light, so we went on, just making a more conservative and shorter dive than we had originally planned.
I had played with moving around some weight, and finally got it right. I spent a lot of the dive doing literally absolutely nothing. I was delighted to hover in truly correct trim. We explored the usual places, and found the usual cute critters, including some utterly beautiful small jellyfish of which Bob got some splendid pictures.
At the end of the dive, we had planned a direct ascent so I could practice the dreaded 15 foot stop, which I loathe because I am so bad at it. Comes the awful moment of the thumb, and we start up, and I start getting tense and anxious because I know what's coming . . . but at about 15 feet, we find something wonderful -- a large egg-yolk jellyfish swimming in the water column. I have my visual reference and it's splendid (I've never seen one of these guys for real before). Three minutes? No problem!
We surface to discover the fog bank has dissipated and the Seattle skyline is glittering in multicolor and reflected in the calm, dark waters of Elliott Bay. We kick slowly in to shore, and I feel good about the dive for the first time in a while.
It was my fiftieth dive.
Thank you so much, Bob.
It was one of those dives where so many little things go wrong that you begin to wonder if you are not supposed to make this dive. There were several things where we had to regroup and rethink our dive plan, culminating with making our descent and discovering my primary light wouldn't strike. But I had a backup light, and Bob had a backup light, so we went on, just making a more conservative and shorter dive than we had originally planned.
I had played with moving around some weight, and finally got it right. I spent a lot of the dive doing literally absolutely nothing. I was delighted to hover in truly correct trim. We explored the usual places, and found the usual cute critters, including some utterly beautiful small jellyfish of which Bob got some splendid pictures.
At the end of the dive, we had planned a direct ascent so I could practice the dreaded 15 foot stop, which I loathe because I am so bad at it. Comes the awful moment of the thumb, and we start up, and I start getting tense and anxious because I know what's coming . . . but at about 15 feet, we find something wonderful -- a large egg-yolk jellyfish swimming in the water column. I have my visual reference and it's splendid (I've never seen one of these guys for real before). Three minutes? No problem!
We surface to discover the fog bank has dissipated and the Seattle skyline is glittering in multicolor and reflected in the calm, dark waters of Elliott Bay. We kick slowly in to shore, and I feel good about the dive for the first time in a while.
It was my fiftieth dive.
Thank you so much, Bob.
