Claudette and I planned on going to MarineLand this Sunday about a week ago. Here's the dive:
It's been on the schedule. We knew the rain would blow out our mid-week nighttime madness (well, the Holiday had a little to do with that, too), so OML went on the schedule quite awhile ago.
Been counting the moments.
At Catalina a few weeks ago my Drysuit finally coughed up a furball. I've been nursing along this 9-year old suit, and the ocean has won, time has won and I sent it to my secret girlfriend at DUI (the amazing Marcella) to have some work done. She called me a week ago, we made some tough decisions and I'm getting the zipper replaced and some other things. This will be the suit's last hurrah, I fear. I sold my back up suit, so I have my wetsuit - so I've been diving wet the last several weeks. That's an experience and a blast (of cold water) from the past - but I can adjust my profiles, suck it up and dive wet for a bit. Its all good.
Then I got back from the Spectre last Saturday - and my Camera housing was getting fussy - so I sent it off last Monday. No biggie - it goes in once in awhile for some tweakage. So I dive without a camera. Its cheating, but its all good.
Of course I looked at the calendar and realized that the MoCal trip is around the corner (12/26 - 12/29) and I know I want my scooter looking good. I spoke with Ben at DEMA about some work on the body tubes, and I remembered they needed some time for that - so on Tuesday I sent three Scooter bodies up to WA. So I dive without a scooter for a bit - no biggie. I can dive like a savage (thanks, Glycerin) for a few weeks.
So I call Claudette on Saturday - I ask her if we're really going to dive MarineLand. I mean, this is my fav shore dive in SoCal. Nudi's galore. Its made for scootering, as the good stuff is way, WAY far away and a surface kick I dread. And of course, its an exposed point so at depth (below 60) its always in the mid-50's... a total dry suit dive.
I have none of those things.
Claudette told me to man up and make an adventure out of it.
So I packed my truck - that's something new. Diving the wetty with no scooter and no camera took a small little corner of the truck. I get to her house, and she's waiting with the tiniest little bin. She's laughing at how diving wet with no scooter takes no room - I open the back of my mostly-empty truck and we're cracking up. We load in and go.
We get there and walk over to the cliff - its looking flat. There is surge, but the place is flat. We want to go out at the point and kick back to the beach, as without the scooters, a one-way dive makes more sense.
We load up the cart and we push it out to the point, opening up the restricting chain-link at certain points to make access better. The construction is coming along nicely - this is going to be a fine dive site when its done.
We gear up and walk out to the point - but the water flushing is severe. So much so that it wouldn't be smart to go in there. Diving the point requires you to commit to the entry - you walk down geared up with fins in hand. You pick your spot, then don your fins. You wait for the incoming to wash around you, then you push off and go out with the flush. But when the incoming is so high, its not a good plan as you get washed off of your hold-fast when the water is coming in, and you have no control and get pinballed on the way out. Not safe.
We bail on the point plan go back to my stowed cart, take off the tanks and push everything down the rest of the hill to cobble beach.
We get there and park the cart, gear up and walk over to the entry point. There are two bone-crushers coming in - huge sets tumbling the bowling ball-sized rocks in a huge noisy slurry. Not good. We wait and the lull that follows is mellow enough for a very clean and smooooov entry.
No scooter. No camera. This is cheating.
We get out of the surf and rock wash and look down. Yuck. Not good.
We inflate the wings, roll over onto our backs and assume the SoCal surface kick position, reg in right hand, left hand over chest. We take the first few of the million kicks we'll need to get to the drop point and we look at the top of the cliff - there are 9 people lined up shoulder to shoulder. We kinda wave and continue our kick.
Dolphins are off in the distance. The water is very flat (no wind - just surge and a lot of water coming in as a +5.6 high tide is coming in 40 minutes.) A bunch of Pelicans strafe us in that "dawn patrol" thing they do in the mornings. Cormorants are all over the place. Tendrils of finger fog are wafting by giving the place a cool winder vibe. We paused several times on the kick just to get off our backs and look around at the scene. It was wonderful.
We look down at the water - much better.
We kick some more (no shock there) and we begin to negotiate a drop point. We look up and the crew is still on the rail at the top of the cliff. We can't believe these guys aren't suiting up and running down here for this.
Dette takes a reading on a lobster pot float and we drop into the green-blue water. We arrest our descent right before we hit the sand, and proceed along the kelp's edge.
Remember the two bone crushers? A few more roll through - and the surge is considerable. The viz was pretty ugly - 4 to 10 feet. Lots of suspended sand and lots of broken kelp in the water (leftovers from the storm, no doubt.)
We're on the dive for about a minute before we see our first Octo. We follow the trail of clam shells and there he is. Moments later, another one. Then another one. Then a trail of double-fister clam shells, and a very large octo. This went on for the first 20 minutes of the dive, when we found no less than 15 octos. They were everywhere. It was glorious.
This is also the chain graveyard. Yards and yards of old fat-link chain in piles all over the place. And all the new kelp here - this was a really neat area. Kinda ugly with the water and the surge (it was totally like a night dive at 40 feet - an utter night dive) but it was kinda fun.
We never kick dive this part. This is a fly-over on the way back from Nudi hunting. It was ugly water, but it was good diving. I don't mind the surge. And because it was only 30 to 40 feet deep, the wetsuit wasn't worthless.
We turned the dive after 25 minutes and started to head back. Because of the falling tide (it was going from the +5.7 to a -0.1) we got a very nice ride home. The current was going the right direction, and we just sailed back.
I've had much worse dives. This was kinda fun - octo hunting.
We get back to the exit point and wait for the bone crushers. I look over at the point (it gets them first) and it looks good. I look straight out at the Horizon - it looks good. I tell Claudette I'm going. So I kick her in the shoulder and I mow over her, like some cad running for the fire escape (so sorry, Chica.) She gives chase and we walk out. Moments later as we're climbing the rocks to get out we hear the familiar woosh-rattle-rattle of bowling ball-sized rocks getting hammered.
Timing is everything!
So:
* No Camera.
* No Scooter.
* No Dry Suit.
Best of all - No drama.
Not a bad morning.
We hump the cart back up the path and we get to a crowd of guys leaning on the rail. They saw us go in, the watched us come up. We get the grilling about conditions. We're pretty thrilled - entries and exits were perfect, water not too cold, enough viz to spot more octos than you can count, lots of stars, perch, a school of senorita's following Claudette on the way back (she never saw them - they were picking schmootz off her wing) - it was a good day.
We walked by while they talked. I hope they went and got in the water. If not, they missed it. I mean - you gotta want it here. The schlep, the timing of the entries and exits, the rock hopping, the long kick. But I think its worth it.
Thanks Claudette! Only with you.
---
Ken
It's been on the schedule. We knew the rain would blow out our mid-week nighttime madness (well, the Holiday had a little to do with that, too), so OML went on the schedule quite awhile ago.
Been counting the moments.
At Catalina a few weeks ago my Drysuit finally coughed up a furball. I've been nursing along this 9-year old suit, and the ocean has won, time has won and I sent it to my secret girlfriend at DUI (the amazing Marcella) to have some work done. She called me a week ago, we made some tough decisions and I'm getting the zipper replaced and some other things. This will be the suit's last hurrah, I fear. I sold my back up suit, so I have my wetsuit - so I've been diving wet the last several weeks. That's an experience and a blast (of cold water) from the past - but I can adjust my profiles, suck it up and dive wet for a bit. Its all good.
Then I got back from the Spectre last Saturday - and my Camera housing was getting fussy - so I sent it off last Monday. No biggie - it goes in once in awhile for some tweakage. So I dive without a camera. Its cheating, but its all good.
Of course I looked at the calendar and realized that the MoCal trip is around the corner (12/26 - 12/29) and I know I want my scooter looking good. I spoke with Ben at DEMA about some work on the body tubes, and I remembered they needed some time for that - so on Tuesday I sent three Scooter bodies up to WA. So I dive without a scooter for a bit - no biggie. I can dive like a savage (thanks, Glycerin) for a few weeks.
So I call Claudette on Saturday - I ask her if we're really going to dive MarineLand. I mean, this is my fav shore dive in SoCal. Nudi's galore. Its made for scootering, as the good stuff is way, WAY far away and a surface kick I dread. And of course, its an exposed point so at depth (below 60) its always in the mid-50's... a total dry suit dive.
I have none of those things.
Claudette told me to man up and make an adventure out of it.
So I packed my truck - that's something new. Diving the wetty with no scooter and no camera took a small little corner of the truck. I get to her house, and she's waiting with the tiniest little bin. She's laughing at how diving wet with no scooter takes no room - I open the back of my mostly-empty truck and we're cracking up. We load in and go.
We get there and walk over to the cliff - its looking flat. There is surge, but the place is flat. We want to go out at the point and kick back to the beach, as without the scooters, a one-way dive makes more sense.
We load up the cart and we push it out to the point, opening up the restricting chain-link at certain points to make access better. The construction is coming along nicely - this is going to be a fine dive site when its done.
We gear up and walk out to the point - but the water flushing is severe. So much so that it wouldn't be smart to go in there. Diving the point requires you to commit to the entry - you walk down geared up with fins in hand. You pick your spot, then don your fins. You wait for the incoming to wash around you, then you push off and go out with the flush. But when the incoming is so high, its not a good plan as you get washed off of your hold-fast when the water is coming in, and you have no control and get pinballed on the way out. Not safe.
We bail on the point plan go back to my stowed cart, take off the tanks and push everything down the rest of the hill to cobble beach.
We get there and park the cart, gear up and walk over to the entry point. There are two bone-crushers coming in - huge sets tumbling the bowling ball-sized rocks in a huge noisy slurry. Not good. We wait and the lull that follows is mellow enough for a very clean and smooooov entry.
No scooter. No camera. This is cheating.
We get out of the surf and rock wash and look down. Yuck. Not good.
We inflate the wings, roll over onto our backs and assume the SoCal surface kick position, reg in right hand, left hand over chest. We take the first few of the million kicks we'll need to get to the drop point and we look at the top of the cliff - there are 9 people lined up shoulder to shoulder. We kinda wave and continue our kick.
Dolphins are off in the distance. The water is very flat (no wind - just surge and a lot of water coming in as a +5.6 high tide is coming in 40 minutes.) A bunch of Pelicans strafe us in that "dawn patrol" thing they do in the mornings. Cormorants are all over the place. Tendrils of finger fog are wafting by giving the place a cool winder vibe. We paused several times on the kick just to get off our backs and look around at the scene. It was wonderful.
We look down at the water - much better.
We kick some more (no shock there) and we begin to negotiate a drop point. We look up and the crew is still on the rail at the top of the cliff. We can't believe these guys aren't suiting up and running down here for this.
Dette takes a reading on a lobster pot float and we drop into the green-blue water. We arrest our descent right before we hit the sand, and proceed along the kelp's edge.
Remember the two bone crushers? A few more roll through - and the surge is considerable. The viz was pretty ugly - 4 to 10 feet. Lots of suspended sand and lots of broken kelp in the water (leftovers from the storm, no doubt.)
We're on the dive for about a minute before we see our first Octo. We follow the trail of clam shells and there he is. Moments later, another one. Then another one. Then a trail of double-fister clam shells, and a very large octo. This went on for the first 20 minutes of the dive, when we found no less than 15 octos. They were everywhere. It was glorious.
This is also the chain graveyard. Yards and yards of old fat-link chain in piles all over the place. And all the new kelp here - this was a really neat area. Kinda ugly with the water and the surge (it was totally like a night dive at 40 feet - an utter night dive) but it was kinda fun.
We never kick dive this part. This is a fly-over on the way back from Nudi hunting. It was ugly water, but it was good diving. I don't mind the surge. And because it was only 30 to 40 feet deep, the wetsuit wasn't worthless.
We turned the dive after 25 minutes and started to head back. Because of the falling tide (it was going from the +5.7 to a -0.1) we got a very nice ride home. The current was going the right direction, and we just sailed back.
I've had much worse dives. This was kinda fun - octo hunting.
We get back to the exit point and wait for the bone crushers. I look over at the point (it gets them first) and it looks good. I look straight out at the Horizon - it looks good. I tell Claudette I'm going. So I kick her in the shoulder and I mow over her, like some cad running for the fire escape (so sorry, Chica.) She gives chase and we walk out. Moments later as we're climbing the rocks to get out we hear the familiar woosh-rattle-rattle of bowling ball-sized rocks getting hammered.
Timing is everything!
So:
* No Camera.
* No Scooter.
* No Dry Suit.
Best of all - No drama.
Not a bad morning.
We hump the cart back up the path and we get to a crowd of guys leaning on the rail. They saw us go in, the watched us come up. We get the grilling about conditions. We're pretty thrilled - entries and exits were perfect, water not too cold, enough viz to spot more octos than you can count, lots of stars, perch, a school of senorita's following Claudette on the way back (she never saw them - they were picking schmootz off her wing) - it was a good day.
We walked by while they talked. I hope they went and got in the water. If not, they missed it. I mean - you gotta want it here. The schlep, the timing of the entries and exits, the rock hopping, the long kick. But I think its worth it.
Thanks Claudette! Only with you.
---
Ken
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