Sund Rock, Mike's Beach and Flagpole

Sund Rock, Mike's Beach and Flagpole, a set on Flickr.

Spent the weekend up in Hood Canal and got in eight great dives, including two night dives. We visited Sund Rock on Friday, stayed at and dove Mike's Beach on Saturday, started Sunday morning with Flagpole and then back to Mike's Beach. Some nice long ones with lots of bottom time, too. Nice and slow, allowing me to improve my critter finding abilities. Found some good ones!

The first night dive, with an amazing display of bioluminescence as we descended down the line followed by a very long visit with a large roaming GPO ranks as... I'll say one of my favorite dives ever. And we basically did a repeat the next night. Awesome. More types of gunnels than I can count, sailfin sculpin, a BIG grunt sculpin, some unknown funky things... can't even recount it all. The perma-smile this weekend generated will last all week, for sure. 

I was finally able to elucidate why I enjoy cold water diving so much... it's more of a challenge, so the rewards seem more substantial. Strangely, I came home and shared this with Scot (who thinks I'm crazy when I say in the middle of a tropical dive trip that I miss my cold home waters), and he had a similar discussion with someone at Blue Element Scuba and Adventure Center today.

A weekend where the focus is dive, eat, sleep, repeat is great. There's a rhythm that develops, and a fun, summer-camp like pleasure in dropping all pretense about what your hair looks like. The funk that develops in your drysuit is like a badge of honor; you worked hard for that! Saturday afternoon was filled with a lovely nap-a-thon. Lots of laughter, socializing with other divers and shops. Good times.

Enjoyed helping with some training, continuing to get into a grove with new buddies, visited some new sites, and learned a lot along the way.

Now it's off to bed to cuddle with Scot and page through Andy Lamb's big picture book so I can ID the things I really saw for the first time this weekend! So much has always been there, probably, but I'm just now SEEING it.

EDIT: No Andy Lamb book -- my copy is at the shop! Argh!

Water, water, everywhere.

Knowing the end of 2010 would be crazy busy, I let go my hopes of having one good diving weekend up in Seattle per month. Time was flying. After the Channel Islands trip was just one trip up north, then one day of diving in the Keys in December. I was doing well suppressing my usual enthusiasm, sublimating it with work on three fronts.

All was going well until playing around in the pool, followed by a hellish day assisting with a rescue class at Whalen Island. When a day of diving in the mud holes in the most horrendous Oregon coast winter weather thrills you -- that's a sign your ass needs to get into some real water.

With the big push to the launch of Blue Element Scuba and Adventure Center completed, I rather randomly selected January 28 as a day to hit the water, leaving it to the universe to let the rest fall into place. Most of my usual suspects were busy that Friday, but as usual the universe provides and I found myself with a fresh new dive buddy and two days of diving up north in the plans.

Excellent dives at Cove 2; called it after 55 minutes in 45 degree water because the feet were freezing. Time to investigate some thicker wool socks. I finally graduated from the thin gloves I've used to some true cold water gloves; they didn't fit well but did keep the hands warm. The lack of dexterity bugs me, but... whatchagonnado? Aside from one instance where I couldn't figure out why my inflator was stuck--it was because I was still pressing it--they are an improvement. Took some photos.  Saw an octo right after we dropped, and many, many nudis.

Viz went to crap during the 2nd dive, but it was fun nonetheless.

Hung with Chris and Christy Friday night -- always a pleasure and a treat, and then headed to Redondo Saturday. We got up late, hung out with Christy for too long, and as a result got to the dive site a little later than planned. We did just one dive, going deep to the boat first and then heading north to run into the other sites, eventually making our way to the bug. Lots of sculpin, some nudis, and mostly big fun overall.

The fix has been applied. My soul is sated, for just a bit.

Diving in Sea Monkeys.

My first set of pictures worth looking at!

A muse of creative energy hit me Friday night, keeping me up until 1:30am. That would have been fine, but the alarm went off at 4:45a, because I had to leave at 5:30a to pick up Jonathan in Gresham and head to Sund Rock where a group of our underwater friends were diving. (Most made a weekend of it staying Fri and Sat night.)

This would be my first time in Hood Canal! Didn't do open water there, and had never been to any of those sites in all the trips I've been making up north.

The ride up seemed quick; fueled by stops for food and caffeine we shared samplings of our musical tastes. My mood soared thanks to the remaining creative buzz--and I was headed toward a date with Poseidon! (It had been a whole 13 days since I'd been in the water.)

A quick stop and some gab at Hood Sport 'n' Dive, we had our pass and we squeezed the Beetle into a spot in the small lot at Sund Rock. Friends were in various stages of dress and undress as they prepped to go in. Smiles, waves and hugs ensued.

We got into the water; I promptly tripped over a rock and ended up flat on my back. Christopher was kicking back in the water and came to my aid. The water was oddly warm, some 62 degrees!

I'll be honest, we missed the North Wall. (Yeah, I now know: descend the buoy to the base, and go north. Boom, you hit the wall. Duh.) But just like wrong turns sometime create the best road trips, so was the case here. We went deepish (90 fsw) through two thermoclines, taking the temp down to about 50. The last was at around 65 fsw and right below it was some nice clear vis... but it was very dark, which is cool in its own right.

Sea whips are amazing, and very striking with nothing else around as they gracefully stretch up with their frilled edges. We glided over the ropes and cables (some amazing groupings of life on those)! At this point I hadn't taken any photos, I was keeping up with Zoomie McZoomZoom. ;-) We found ourselves looking at a very liberal sprinkling of thumb sized nudibranchs, translucent with white tips against the dark green and red seaweed. I was trying to get positioned for a photo when J starts tugging at my arm. I'm thinking, "Leave me the heck alone, I'm busy here!" but then I look and just to the side of what I'm focused on is a nudibranch larger than any I've ever seen! Large and frilly with white tips, I'm shocked to see another one just a few feet away... and then ANOTHER one. And... another one, but this time brown and orange tips. And... another one! And... a PILE of them, about 5 of them! For a moment I thought they were dead but no... they were doing quite the opposite of death, it seems.

(Insert porn music here.)

We were above a very large field FILLED with these awesome large, colorful nudis. Consulting my book... Giant Dendronotids? Wow!

After poking around for a while longer, J signaled his pressure reading meant the ride was over, and we headed toward a leisurely safety stop and then surfaced near the south wall exit. My tank was still sporting almost half its contents. (It amazes me how much my air consumption has gone down since Maui.)

Not the dive we planned, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way!

After a nice relaxing (and warming) surface interval, we headed back into the water w/ Stephen. To the buoy and down to the base, head due north and TADA, the north wall! We poked and crawled along, and I totally lost myself taking photos. S gave some excellent technique advice (the most complicated communication I've ever had underwater, and I learned not only something about photography but also about communicating underwater).

We poked around slowly. Looked in a few holes, crevasses and under ledges but saw none of the big players--which oddly enough is fine; it's the little guys that I love!

During the si, Dan had commented on the thick layer of krill that was affecting light at depth. He wasn't kidding; we went through a large band of Sea Monkeys, the water almost murky with them!

At some point J peeled off from us due to air, and S and I continued to slowly poke around the wall, then up and over into the fishbowl. I could have stayed there for one whole hour long dive thanks to the wonderful lighting and great array of stuff to see.

Once out of the water, the parking lot was emptying and we had a very leisurely time stripping off and packing our gear, chatting with Hilo and basking in the sun.

Good times.

I was conflicted; on the one hand I really wanted to socialize with everyone (they were having a pot luck) but having to drive home meant if I did it would be another very late night and on three hours of sleep that didn't seem wise. So J and I headed on down the road, stopping briefly at Hoodsport Winery for a taste. The cabinet behind the wall was filled with medals; I noticed most were from the Indiana State Fair and other related contests! I see why -- by far their best production was their raspberry, a rich and fragrant sweet wine. (I loved the sweets from Oliver Winery when we lived there.)

Then it was on to the casino where multiple plates of crab met their end at our table. Before leaving, a video slot called Kitty Glitter turned my $20 into $70, and I called it quits right there. That pretty much paid for my dive weekend.

Thanks, universe! Already planning for next weekend; we're helping some friends find their comfort in the water Saturday (somewhere boring like Dash Point) and then something like Alki on Sunday.

Has great visibility returned to the Puget Sound?

P1010231
Originally uploaded by lavachickie

Saturday we walked into A2Z Scuba and were welcomed by Amy and Tom with hugs and a shout of, "Viz is GREAT this weekend!" Music to my ears, for while I enjoy my cold water diving, I have to admit that the pea soup was getting me down.

Our trip up had been leisurely; we were weekending with a new diving friend. Three hours together in a metal box can be trying on any relationship, and it's often telling of those in their nascent stages. And a whole two days... By the time we got home at 12:30am Monday morning, however, it was clear we'll be traveling together again.

We were slow, but that was all part of the plan. We were in search of water, and enjoying the company in the meantime. After hanging at Amy's for a bit and picking up miscellany such as a reel, changing a computer battery, buying some weights to round out the set, etc. we headed to Les Davis.

Parking a crew cab longbed pickup in that lot is... a challenge. Luckily, there was a diving instructor at the end with a big truck and he and crew had just gotten out of the water. We waited patiently for about ten minutes and he gave us his spot. We love you, man.

Beautiful clarity at the entry. This made poking through the eel grass really fun, lots of great little critters to see. At my favorite spots amongst the slabs, around 65 ft, it murked up a bit, but was still good compared to the last times I'd been there. I noticed the plumose seemed to be less packed in; the areas that used to be covered were more sparse. Lots of fish. A few small nudies. The usual suspects.

And jellies. LOTS of jellies.

My systems were going well; I'd spent a ridiculous amount of time making sure my seals were *perfect*. At the end, I was damp. Not all over, and not soaked. Just the upper left quadrant was damp. (Chatting with Norm a few days later he pointed out the valve could be sucking water if I keep the suit too lean. That may in fact be the problem because I can't find anything else. Next time...)

Air consumption continues to improve. Since Maui I've pretty much always come up with more air than those I'm diving with. Sweet. Admittedly, they are air hogs, but...

We only did one dive there due to time; we were considering a night dive that evening and two dives the next day; this meant we had to scoot back to Amy's for fills, then get some dinner, clean up and head out to see a friend and his band play at 9pm, and maybe see the water again at 11pm.

At dinner I enjoyed an AMF, ordered by my friend to calm my attitude, because I was sporting one. And boy, did it fit the bill. Yummmmmy! And one of those on an empty stomach after diving had me smiling and giggly and... two would have been bad, bad news.

By the time all that was done and the choice was night dive or head back to the hotel to sleep the answer was clear; we were falling asleep where we stood, so no night dive.

We're so lame.

The next morning we got up and enjoyed a hearty breakfast at Black Bear Diner. I'd gotten a great deal at the Best Western in Federal Way; it was leagues above the other cheapies we've stayed at there and I'd so do it again in a heartbeat.

It was late morning and we had no trouble finding parking at Alki. That was my first time there and I LOVE IT. Easy access, great view of Seattle across the water, multiple dive sites right there... I see why this is so popular. Can't wait to dive it at night, too. Looking down at the entry, it was crystal clear. Went to about 65 following our friend who was taking macro shots I love following a photographer because they go slow, and that gives me time to poke around for critters which is what I'm down there to do!. Created some inventive underwater hand signals at the boat. (How do you say, "There's a gunnel right inside the lip of the boat in front of you and across from me?")

I hung out with a goby for a long time... they are SO cute for some reason.

Two great dives at this site. Can't wait to go back.

I shucked four pounds of weight from my gear, and had no troubles at all. The last dive was perhaps one of the best dives I've ever had in cold water speaking of comfort and ability. I admit I switched from the drysuit to the BC for buoyancy; there's just something amiss with the suit. I'm going to try to tinker with the valve setting next time but I have to admit I like the feel of keeping the suit slim and just using the BC. (I started using the drysuit using the BC, then switched to using the suit after reading that's how you're "supposed" to do it but in the interim have found about a 50/50 distribution of who does what, so I went back for a try.)

I've gotten seven dives in since I had The Bad Dive with Amy at Les Davis. The drysuit failure was fixed after that dive, and I've not had any feelings of anxiety like I did there (comfortable enough that I chose to dive solo at Whalen Island a few of those times, too). Whatever it was, it passed. Bizarre.

Love Redondo and Les Davis!

This caffeine lover is hard pressed to admit it, but a new rule of NO CAFFEINE ON DIVE DAY is a good one. Or, in the very least, not a lot of caffeine. Our last trip to Redondo got off to a rocky start thanks to my jitters, fueled by having a large Dutch Mocha w/ an extra shot AND a 32 ounce Mountain Dew during the 3 hour trip up. 


No such malady this time, although there's always something, isn't there? The end of a cold was hanging on, but I trusted in the Sudafed. The first descent at Redondo at a low tide amused me with lots of squishy noises in my sinuses, until at 25 fsw I felt a sudden stab of brain pain that seriously had me worried I'd suffered some catastrophic event like a brain aneurism, or a stroke. (We now have a new hand signal for "brain aneurism.") Pain so intense it made me nauseous! It quickly resolved and I realized it must've simply been a sinus issue. I sent Scot and Dana on down for the deep dive; I promised to stay near the pier, in sight of the pillars (which in the poor vis wasn't very far). 


After careful consideration I took a few spins around the base of the pier, down to 35 fsw with no equalization problems. Some will crucify me for a decision to solo dive. My evaluation went like this: simple, well known area; shallow depth; no current issues; no fishing line/entanglement possibilities; even with total equipment failure I could CESA to the surface. Yes, if something rendered me unconscious I'd be in trouble, but I drive a car daily with that same possibility at hand. I'm pretty conservative, and it felt right. It was gloriously relaxing (no one to worry about but me) and was a good exercise in both decision making and execution. Would I make THAT same decision again? Yes. Will I think even more carefully about such issues in the future? Yes. Is there solo dive training and a secondary air source in my future? You betcha. 

No one needs to worry; I'm not about to go striking off on dive trips all by myself without telling anyone, or looking to break my personal depth records by myself at a new dive site. I'm just saying that until recently I thought the idea of solo diving was just batshit crazy. But after realizing that if you're in bad vis with a parter who isn't paying attention... you might as well be on your own. (Not that I've had that happen, but I've heard of others.) So if you might find yourself on your own anyway... why not be prepared for it? It has its place, I now know. One of the best divers in our group solos, too, which has likely impacted my view.


On the second dive it was just Scot and I; I had no ear/sinus issues and we were to 65 fsw. We worked on navigation skills, failed at our specific task due to the poor vis (we found everything BUT what we were in search of, and surely passed within feet of it) but found one another in the murk when lost (knowing the bearing we were on and using flashlights to break through it brought us back together). We're equal air hogs so we hit 750 at the same time, had a very smooth safety stop (it's surprisingly hard to hold your position in the water column at 15 feet in a lot of exposure gear as you have to dump air at just the right amount as you come up to remain neutral), and a little surface swim back. 


We were tired, looked like shit, it was raining, we were damp through and through... and we were happy as could be. 


Up early the next day to be at Les Davis at 8:30... ugh! But we geared up, had a blast talking with friends, and bemoaning the thick heavy fog. We dove there to 65 feet, and I was doing well using the drysuit only for buoyancy control (I'd learned the bad habit of using the BCD). Vis was really poor, and a current kicked up a bit, and the metal in the concrete that was sunk to make the artificial reef made compass use impossible. We were quite far from the steps when we surfaced, and had a nice long surface swim back. The joy was that by the time we came up, the fog had burned off and we enjoyed wonderful views of the Olympics, blue sky and warm sun! 


We hung around for quite some time, then all decided to pack it in instead of do a 2nd dive due to the poor vis. We spent time talking with our many friends, made new ones, and learned a lot from all.

So many lessons learned on each trip; on this one from how much easier it is to pack with a checklist to what to do if Mother Nature deals you a crappy hand on dive day. My pawn moved a few more steps down the road to being a great diver. 


Dana deserves a shout out; she's a great travel buddy and a considerate dive partner. I'm happy that she feels the same about me (and Scot, too). Later that night as Scot and I were debriefing, he said, "I enjoy diving with you; you're good and getting better." That made me smile.  

Maui is coming up in just a little over two weeks. While I do really enjoy cold water diving, I can't wait for less gear, better vis and more color!

Lessons learned at Redondo.

At 6am Scot, Dana and I loaded up The Great Blue Whale (Scot's truck) and headed to Redondo Beach on the Poverty Bay of Federal Way, WA. Thanks to good company, the 3 hour drive up went by like a flash (despite stops for coffee and breakfast). Standing in the parking lot on a bright sunny day with not a single cloud in the sky, the water was rimmed in the distance by the snow capped mountains. The view topside alone made the trip worth it. But we had the real adventure still to come.