Guess what I’m doing today?

I got to get wet this weekend: I went scuba diving on Saturday. I went out on the Sea Bass; we went to Catalina Island and anchored just offshore at a dive site called Crane Point.

I got three dives in and found something … interesting on each of them. On Dive #1 I found a snorkel, which is now living in my dive bag as a backup. On Dive #2 I found a cute little horn shark and a big lobster, while my buddy found a big moray eel, all of whom are still living where we found them. And on Dive #3 I found a skanky old tube sock on the bottom at 45 feet, which I left there because it was A) skanky, B) old, and C) not my tube sock.

Then I sunburned my legs on the trip back in to San Pedro.

After getting home, I barely had time to put aloe vera gel on my sunburn before me, Beth, Zoe and her friend Maya had to rush out the door to go to a Dodger game. We ate Dodger dogs, peanuts, frozen lemonade and a disgusting “Carnation Frozen Malted Cup” while we watched the Boys in Blue stomple all over the Phillies 6-3.

It was a good day.

Damn, but I’m organized. Or… maybe not. As I was poised to begin writing this entry, thinking that I would start with “…and of course we saw fireworks,” I had a vague memory that maybe I had planned for this year last year. So I searched my own stupid blog for the word “fireworks” and found this. Reading the last line there, you’ll see that I know myself very, very well. Ha.

Anyway… So I obviously didn’t let last year’s fireworks advice get in my way this year. This time around we again viewed the Radford Studio show but from a different location — we went with Zoe’s friend Katie’s family and set up camp at the east end of Moorpark Park, which was the perfect spot. Great view, nice setting, not too crowded, etc. And if you’re a lazy bastard like me and let Beth and Zoe go in the car to stake out a spot ahead of you and then you show up an hour later on the motorcycle and park where ever you want because traffic and parking isn’t a hassle on a motorcycle, then it makes it that much better. For you, at least.

So as a note for myself next year: do it that way again. If, you know, you read this. Beforehand.

We also went to a barbeque at the home of the owner of my local dive ship. There were a lot of people there, many I knew from diving already. And they had scuba gear there too, so the instructors and divemasters in attendance were giving sample dives to everyone who wanted them. Zoe and Beth wanted them.

Zoe kept coming back for more — she suited up and bubbled her way around the pool four times and would have kept going if they hadn’t almost literally peeled the tank off her. Beth went around twice too and pronounced it “fun.” I think pretty soon now we’ll be a scuba diving family … which will not be cheap.

I need to find some more frugal hobbies.

The scuba curse has lifted! I finally got to go diving again yesterday.

We (a group of people from my local dive shop) went out on the Magician dive boat. The original plan was to dive some wrecks in San Pedro Harbor but the harbormaster nixed that idea so we went to Catalina Island instead for a 3-dive day.

Dive #1 was at Italian Gardens. I was buddied up with two strangers, Mike and Kevin. Kevin has about 20 dives under his belt, while Mike claims to have lost count. Our dive plan was to drop down to 50 or 60 feet (as an Open Water rated diver my max depth is supposed to be 60 feet) and then head toward the shallower water toward the shoreline and look for the group of Giant Black Sea Bass that have been seen hanging out there recently. We ended up going to the bottom at 70 feet before I realized I was too deep, so I went up to 60 and followed Kevin and Mike from up there. We never did see the Sea Bass, but for entertainment Mike cut up some sea urchins to feed the Garibaldis. I went through my air pretty quickly and we had to surface after 22 minutes.

Dive #2 was also at Italian Gardens. Mike was seasick so he didn’t dive. Kevin and I went down to about 45 feet and just swam around for about 40 minutes (your air lasts longer when you don’t go so deep!). We saw a hint of movement way out at the edge of visibility and as we watched one of the Giant Black Sea Basses slowly swam into view. He was about 4 1/2 to 5 feet long (it’s hard to judge size underwater) and was totally unconcerned with us. We followed him for about five minutes, and then it seemed as if he finally noticed us behind him. He paused, turned his head back to look at us, then angled back around and swam over to check us out. He came within about 15 feet of us, we gave each other a good long look, and then he slowly swam away again. That was pretty cool. When we surfaced we found we were about 50 yards from the boat and had to swim against the current to get to it. That was pretty not cool but we made it.

For Dive #3 we moved the boat a mile or two up the coast to Red Lava Point West. There, the captain pointed out a cave at the waterline in the cliff face at the shore and said it was horseshoe shaped and safe to swim through. Mike was still sick and didn’t dive again, so Kevin and I decided to start by swimming through the cave and then just explore along the coast at about 40 feet. The cave turned out to be a dead end — we went in about 30 yards as it got narrower and narrower with the surge bashing us up against the rock floor and sides of the cave. Kevin was leading and went so far in that he was practically crawling before I called him back because I wasn’t wearing gloves and my hands were getting torn up on the rocks as I tried to hold my position back in deeper water. After the cave we loafed around for about 40 minutes, varying between 40 and 15 feet before we surfaced literally right next to the boat. After the dive the captain announced that, oops, he had anchored at the wrong spot and the horesehoe cave was actually about 100 yards away. He drove the boat past it so we could “at least say you’ve seen it.” Ha.

All in all, it was a good day of diving. I got to go deep, got to see a Giant Black Sea Bass, and got to bleed. But the main thing is that I got to dive. Finally.

Aaahhhh….

Since getting certified as a scuba diver last month, my efforts to get back into the water have been repeatedly stymied. I’m starting to get a little cranky about it. (“A little?” is what Beth will say upon reading this.)

The weekend before I left for Fairbanks I learned there was an opening on a local boat (the Sea Bass, in case you care) for a Saturday dive trip. I paid $85 for the open spot, then paid my local dive shop $40 to rent gear for the trip (wet suit, BCD, regulator/gauges/octopus, tank & weights). That night I discovered a problem with the gear that made using it dangerous. I got up at 4:30 the next morning anyway and arrived at the boat at 6 am, hoping someone there would have a way of fixing it. No one did. I went home.

Score: 1 diving opportunity gone.

Last Monday, my instructor called me to say there was an opening on a 3-day dive trip this weekend she knew I really wanted to go on (on the Vision, in case you care). She had bypassed the waiting list to call me first, and she offered me free rental gear to make up for my problem last time out, then when I hesitated before saying “yes” she knocked $100 off the price. After talking it over with Beth I decided that I had to pass no matter how much it hurt to do so — family and $$$ considerations won out. We decided to do a family weekend at Catalina Island instead, where I’d be able to get some diving in and hang with the wife and daughter.

Score: 2 diving opportunities gone.

Friday I went to the shop to pick up rental gear for our Saturday trip to Catalina and discovered that A) the shuttle boats to Catalina were totally sold out for Saturday and B) the Vision had gone out with two openings. You can only imagine my frustration at A and my pain at B.

I decided to take the gear anyway and hope that something would open up on a Catalina shuttle. That night I worked the phones for an hour until I found one opening. Beth and Zoe wouldn’t be able to go but at least I’d get to go diving, and it wasn’t the shuttle my friends were going on but at least I could meet them there.

Saturday morning I got up at 4:30 am and found that the vision in my left eye was … impaired.

Wait. Backstory: I have glaucoma. I was diagnosed with it probably 10 years ago and I’ve been on medication for it ever since — I will be for life. I’m quite young to have glaucoma and I’m lucky we caught it when we did and so far it has been completely under control. Okay, resume the story again…

Okay, so my left eye was acting wacky. The vision was cloudy, hazy, and there were halos around bright lights. Situation: ungood. With my condition, I have to be worried about this. If it’s increased pressure in the eye I could end up blind in that eye really quickly. I really had no choice: I had to scrub my plans to go diving and see a doctor instead.

Score: 3 diving opportunities gone.

The eye thing turned out to be … we don’t know. My vision had cleared by the time I was seen by a doctor at the ER (and that’s another story of incompetence in itself), and when I had a full exam by my optometrist later in the day she couldn’t see anything wrong. It was all a big “Hmmm…”

I’m really starting to wonder if this whole diving thing is cursed for me. I keep making plans that fall apart, and I keep spending money and never get near the water. This isn’t at all what I had in mind when I signed up for my classes.

I just want to violate all the laws of nature and breathe underwater. Is that so wrong?

Snorkel Boy has gone the way of the wooly mammoth. Say hello to Scuba Boy.

I’ve wanted to take scuba lessons for-just-about-ever, and snorkeling on our recent cruise vacation finally made me get off my ass and go do it. I wanted to go deeper, longer (yes, I’m still talking about snorkeling), so I raced straight from the cruise ship to my local dive shop, Aqua Adventures Unlimited, and signed up for scuba lessons.

My classes covered two weekends. Weekend #1 (May 8, 9) we did the book learnin’ in the mornings and in the afternoon learned basic scuba skills (like how to put on a skin-tight 7 mm wetsuit — it’s a real workout!) in the pool. Weekend #2 (yesterday and the day before) we went to Catalina Island and did the Open Water dives in the ocean with real live fish and lobsters and stuff. We even saw a shark! (Not a real one, it was just the design on someone’s towel on the dive boat, but still…)

Bottom line: I love it. Swimming among the kelp is like flying through a forest, breathing underwater is indescribably cool, and there’s so much to see down there that you don’t want to come back up. I’m glad I finally did it. I can’t wait to go out again.

I am Scuba Boy. Woo.