After my failed attempt to dive at Glendale several weeks ago. I tried again on Wednesday May 20. By following different driving directions my buddy and I were able to drive to the dive site without bumping into another closed road. Once again my buddy rented one of the biggest tanks available at the local dive shop (Whidbey Island Dive Center) because I was planning to use his HP 100 steel tank.
We wanted to celebrate my 100th dive with a dive that had a max. depth of 100ftSW. Glendale is the only deep dive site reachable from shore known to us on Whidbey Island. There we would have been able to dive to our planned depth of 100ftSW without having to worry too much about currents.
Glendale will never make it to the list of top ten Puget Sound diving destinations. The bottom of cobblestones gently slopes down to a depth of about 12 ftSW. Then it turns into sand, silt and mud and then VOILA! Without any warnings it drops down at an angle that to me seemed steeper than 45 degrees and keeps going down to 100ftSW and beyond to a seductive soft darkness. The steep slope was scarred with longitudinal trenches as if underwater bottom-slides occurred sometime in the past.
Every time I mentioned to the owner of the local dive shop my interest in diving at Glendale he always ended up rolling his eyes in disbelief. Now I understand why. Kelp bed, bottle field, reef of any kind or a simple rock are nowhere to be seen at this site. The bottom is just a vast layer of fine sediments ready to turn into a huge cloud and reduce the visibility, already pretty poor, to zero by careless kicking.
Somehow we got lucky and saw a log half buried in the mud where three copper rock fish took refuge in their desperate attempt to hide from predators. Nobody came to visit us: no gray whales, six gill sharks, spiny dogfish, not even a rat fish swam by or a sea pen popped up its orange feathery head from the mud.
Who on earth wants to dive in such an unappealing and boring marine environment? I guess recreational divers like me who wants to practice diving deeper than 60 ft in a relatively safe location. A marine biologist obsessed with flat fish, a photographer who is interested in publishing a book about the secret life of the snake prickleback (an insipid looking fish that reaches a maximum length of 20 inches) or a UFO fanatic who wants to demonstrates that aliens made those underwater trenches.
For me the dive was a trip in outer space to a distant planet that was recovering from a catastrophic event and was populated by small hidden creatures. Tens and tens of little eyes were watching our moves without us knowing it. Crabs would all of a sudden emerge from the mud and run like madmen, other indefinable animals would sprint like rockets leaving a streak of sediment behind them as soon we got to close to them. A fully grown snake prickleback was sitting on top of a rock sole as if the two were best buddies. For the first time we were able to have a close look at a white spotted greenling.
At a depth of 100ftSW my breathing was as smooth as that apparently lifeless slope. As far I can tell I did not get narced like those crabs. A sense of peace enveloped me but did not make me forget to keep checking my SPG. When I reached 1750 PSI we turned back and the last memorable encounter was a sad one: a half-eaten flounder with its spine sticking out of teeth-marked body. It was still alive and tried to swim away.:depressed:
We expected a current less than 1 kt but at depth there was none. It picked up a little on the way back in shallow water. Along the steep slope organic material was rolling down like rocks falling from a mountain gully. Not sure whether for gravity or a downward current. We surfaced while a bunch of bald eagles was having a party on a private section of the beach. I had 750PSI left in my tank.
Good night
