Stolt Good, Stolt Bad April 28 2007

I finally got my wish on Saturday to hit the Stolt. I also got more than I wished for.

Onboard the Stingray was Jim Wood, Alex Peterson, Paul and Gary, as well as Captain Henrik. Chatting on the dock beforehand Alex asked if I had ever seen a shark off NJ. I told him how I had, and then mentioned how last year a guy I was with had seen two makos on the Mohawk. Alex nodded, saying he was on that trip, then Gary chimed in to say he was the one who had seen them. Its a tight community indeed.

On the way out I was asked if I would set the hook, which I had no objection to. I don't crew on any boats, mostly because I'd rather maximize my bottom time. Considering the amount of leeway Henrik gives me though, I don't mind singing for my supper. This time though it really sucked ass. The hook had gone all they way to the sand, which meant I had to drop down to 130’, then haul that heavy motherhumper all the way back to 60’, chain and all. I used the hook like an ice axe in my left hand, twice having to drop back down to release a snagged bight. Not fun, not fun at all. 23 minutes later I was tied in, bottle released (which I subsequently found out was never seen from again), and I dropped down to go scallop hunting. I hadn’t had time to mix up some trimix, so I was a little buzzy but nothing significant. I spent about 75 minutes out on the sand hunting about, and filling my bags with a lobster and 5 dozen scallops. On the way back I saw a decent pair of claws in a shallow hole, and quickly scooped it up. As soon as I put my hand on it I knew I had something special, the carapace was enormous. Deco was uneventful, 45 minutes or so just floating about in minimal current. My total run time wound up being 2½ hours, still without a chill. In truth I wanted to hang out longer, especially since by the top of the wreck I’d have been decompressing, but figured they might be getting concerned topside.

As it turns out, they were. Through a misunderstanding they were expecting me back at 2 hours, and were on the verge of sending a diver down the line to check on me. I’ll have to work out a system with them in the future, maybe send up a bottle at two hours so they know I’m alive and well. I kind of figured I’d relay it to someone heading up, but by that time they had all come and gone. I noticed a little soreness in my left arm about ten minutes after I’d come up, but it quickly disappeared, and I attributed it to hauling the hook up. The larger bug was as I suspected, a female. Stands to reason, big carapace, middling claws. She had the body of a 7#er, but since so much of a lobsters weight is in its claws, and since females don’t have to fight, she was more in the 3#-4# range. Big wide child-bearing hips on her, so I notched the tail. That way she can’t be taken, either commercially or recreationally. The notch should last for 3 or 4 molts, which at that size can take several years. After that she’s on her own. Some on the boat seemed to think this was kind-hearted of me (or was that soft-headed?) Really though, all I want to do is eat her children, which doesn’t seem particularly philanthropic.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to do a second dive, but when the possibility of getting another hour was offered I took it, with a 90 minute surface interval. I still wanted to get some mussels, plus I wanted to put Mama Big Bug somewhere nice. After spending a ludicrous amount of time picking out just the right hole for her, then scooping some more scallops, I saw I was due to begin my deco. Then my problems began. I’ve been using a 6 cf bottle for drysuit inflation. This is ample for two dives. However, with the sawtooth on dive one I had depleted it more than I counted on, and it ran dry when I got to the bottom. It wasn’t terrible, a bit of a squeeze but nothing major. Mental note to switch drysuit bottles for dive two, there was even a spare on the boat doing me no good whatsoever. As I ascended I noticed that for some reason the Hammerhead on my Meg was only showing 12 minutes of deco, while my other computer registered 25. Uh oh, that’s not good, they should be pretty close together, and if not the HH should be longer. Mystery solved when I watched it cut out and erase all deco information on the ascent: It was resetting. Also, one of my sensors, which had been slightly lower than the other two, now really dropped out. I still had deco information, and still had valid feedback on what I was breathing, so it fell more in the zone of inconvenient and annoying, rather than dangerous. At the top of the wreck I met Jim, signaled that I was ok and my deco status, then began my ascent.

We had a later start time for the day, plus were delayed leaving, so I finished my deco, added five minutes, then made my ascent. As soon as I hit the surface I knew I had a problem. The soreness in my left arm came roaring back, with interest added. In all likelihood I should have dropped down and done another 30 minutes at 20’ at a nice juicy PO2, but elected not to. The plan was for Jim to pull the hook at any minute and ascend on his own, and it would have complicated matters to have him drifting around while I’m on the line deco’ing – shades of last fall’s Arundo trip in reverse. Given that, I wasted no time scooting my way to the stern and clambering aboard. My mind was focused on the al40 of O2 that I had brought along at the last minute. Stripping out of my drysuit shredded a wrist seal, but I didn’t much give a damn at that point, I was much more interested in moving that bubble. It was muscular, not skeletal, so that was good, but it was also sore enough you’d have to call it pain. I alerted Henrik as soon as I got up, and periodically he and the other guys checked up on me. Paul is an EMT in Newark, and he sat with me and checked for muscle weakness or other discrepancies. I thought about lying on my left side but thought better of it, since I figured it would confuse my symptoms by making my left arm more sore, or god forbid, falling asleep and giving me pins and needles - it would be straight to the chamber then, with a misdiagnosis. After 15 minutes on O2 I felt better by half, and after 30 minutes I was completely asymptomatic. I still finished off the bottle, spending about two hours on O2 – longest I’ve been on open circuit in ages.

So, that’s my tale of woe, or rather woe narrowly avoided. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t kind of depressed about it this week. I feel like I’ve got my head around it now, the things I did that increased the risk, and things I can do to minimize it. I may start just doing one long dive rather than two, at least for deeper stuff, especially if I can’t get a longer surface interval in. I’m also going to plan my deco a little bit differently, setting my computers for at least one point below what I’m actually flying (which is in fact what I usually do.) I don’t think the slight drysuit squeeze was a factor, but I’ll change my 6 out more often, and be more diligent about checking it between dives. Hauling the hook to the top of the wreck was, I'm convinced, a huge factor. It's doubtful there was any initial nitrogen issue, as there simply wasn’t any time to load up on the bounce. What I think more likely is that I strained it, giving bubbles a nucleation site. Though its counterintuitive, I don’t think the length of the dive was much of a factor, since I never registered more than 40 minutes of deco. The over-arching cause I believe was trying to cram too much diving into too little time. My general practice is to add another 10 or 15 minutes minimum after I’ve cleared, but because of time constraints I cut that to 8 the first dive, and then 5 the second. Its definitely time to pad that right back in, I suspect if I had done that I wouldn’t have had an issue.

It was suggested to me that I not write about this, on the basis that it would destroy my credibility. That’s not something I’ve ever really given any thought to though, and besides, would that necessarily be a bad thing? I don’t teach anymore, so I don’t need to present myself as any sort of authority. Ultimately I think I’m much more comfortable letting folks know what has and hasn’t worked for me. I’d hate to think that anyone would get hurt as a result of overvaluing anything I had to say. I like to give back to the sport by sharing what I've learned, but that doesn't mean it will work for somebody else. It doesn't even mean its right.

The whole experience has been food for thought for me, hopefully for you too.