Pinta November 11 2007

It is getting chilly out, no two ways about it. During the drive down and ride out I couldn't wait to get into the water to warm up. With the seas kicking we decided to stay inshore, and parked above the Pinta right off the Atlantic Highlands. On May 8, 1963 the Pinta had the misfortune (well, the incompetence, really) to collide with the City of Perth. Clear skies, moderate seas, 14 miles of visibility, but still they hit each other, with the Pinta sinking in 48 minutes. There were no fatalities, so at least they abandoned ship in good order. It was my first time on this wreck. It has been very quickly deteriorating in recent years, so I was glad to see it sooner rather than later. The Independence had a full charter, a nice mix of newcomers with the regulars. Just goes to show how avid people are to dive around here, even late in the season.

The Pinta was carrying a load of pecky cyprus, which becomes obvious as soon as you descend onto the wreck. Board lengths are scattered every which way, all more so now that it is falling apart. Dave O had us tied into the stern, so I started by spending a few minutes working my way into the engine compartment. Viz was pretty punk, 8' or so, with an intermittent surge that was occasionally impressive. Over the course of nearly two hours I swam stem to stern, out into the sand, and wiggled into as many holes as I could fit into. One of the forward holds teased me terribly. The decking is just starting to really go, and through the gaps I could see undisturbed silt. I even considered, then rejected, ascending to fetch Fat Max the wrecking bar from above. After 90 minutes I finally found a keeper bug, and that one was wedged deep inside. Catching it involved completely silting out the hold and coating myself in rust, but I got it, puny one-clawed thing that it was. Max depth was only 89 feet, my shallowest in a long time. I had no complaints though, only having 20 minutes of deco was a real treat. The only hiccup, so to speak, was a brief but bizarre reverse block in the last 10 feet. I had made a choucroute for a little dinner party the night before, an assortment of sausage and smoked meat buried in sauerkraut. Note to self: go easy on the kraut the night before diving!

Not much more to tell, just a nice, moderately bumpy day on the ocean. Getting back at 2pm was a treat, so a few of us went to Europa for lunch. Good food, decent prices, and despite the fancy decor they didn't turn their noses up at a bunch of fleece-clad divers with salt-spiked hair.

U-869 October 30 2007

We've all heard the cliche about the perfect storm, where several factors come together to make a righteous mess. Tuesday we had the polar opposite, just a perfect fall day with plenty of sun, warm water and calm seas. Just goes to prove that even in late October Mother Nature grants favors. A crew of us headed out to the U-869 onboard the Independence, for a one-and-done day. Brandon McWilliams and Bill Trent did a quick and able tie-in, and at 11:30 my buddy and splashed. Even at this late date the water was 63F down to about 90', which was just lovely. My lpi displeased me greatly by bleeding air into the wing, but early on I caught onto what it was doing and unplugged it. We penetrated the stern section, and spent our time probing about, then a few more minutes swimming forward outside the hull. At 40 minutes he headed up, but I wasn't ready to go yet. I had never seen the screws, so I returned to the stern and dropped down. They were indeed splendid, as was the 6# bug I pulled from a box next to them, plus another 2#er lurking nearby. When I was here last month I had seen a 3# hopelessly entangled in fishing line. I really hate that, and felt bad that I didn't have the time to cut him free. To my surprise we met again, and in no time I had saved him (and me) from a cruel death by starvation. At 57 minutes I left the wreck for a longish, 2h15m deco, which was quite comfortable once I cleared 80'. I wasn't the only one to bag up, as Brandon and Bill grabbed another 5 bugs, including a very pretty 8.5# one. Brandon was even so kind as to donate a 3#er to the Infante Lobster Bisque Fund - watch that tail kitty!

Eau Canada October 5-7 2007

Fall has become my favorite time of year to dive the St. Lawrence. The water is still warm, most of the tourists are gone, and the visibility is superb. Carl Bayer, John Bayer, Sunny Longordo and I made the trek up, where we later rendezvoused with two divers they had met on the Empress of Ireland. David Hutchinson who shall be known as Gizmo and Michael Woods aka Captain Disaster are Canadian but not quite local, as I believe their drive in was longer than ours. Good divers and good company, it was a real pleasure to spend some time with them.

The first day started with a bit of a bang. I've dived the Lillie Parsons before, and I've dived the King, but this was the first time I did one then drifted onto the other. The Lillie is an old wooden coal schooner lying turtled in about 50 feet. Its a fun dive to swim through, especially as the light penetrating through the cracks is quite pretty. 10 minutes was about enough to sample her charms, then Carl and I set off for the King. A drillboat, it sank in an explosion in 1930, and lies in the 150' range. The drift was a long one, roughly 40 minutes, with the current alternately racing and slacking based on the topography. It was a nice way to make two been-there done-that wrecks much more fun. Another diver from our boat had stayed on the Lillie, but was mighty freaked out when a freighter went by and he felt himself being pulled up! That would weird me out too. For dive two we went to the Daryaw. The engine room is a fun place to go wiggle through, but mostly I just enjoyed letting the current take me for a fast ride over the keel.

The next day David and Michael arrived, and were beside themselves with delight at receiving secret New Jersey diver contraband: milk crates. You have never seen plastic boxes give such joy. We went out on Wayne Green's newest boat, the River Diver. It is spacious, which was good since we had a large group. Unfortunately John suffered from sensory deprivation on his rebreather, which we were unable to fix, and thus had to sit the dives out. The America has some opportunities for penetration, but the best part is when freighters come over. From 75' down you can really feel the throbbing from the engine in the middle of your chest. For the afternoon we headed over to the Keystorm, along with every other diver in Canada it seemed. Bubbles bubbles everywhere. There was also an impromptu game of soccer using Sunny's head as the ball. Well, really there was just one other player, but she kept kicking her repeatedly. I guess Sunny was just so happy to be back diving that it didn't hurt her buzz, otherwise Pele risked being strung up by the tail like a trophy.

That afternoon was my real reason for coming here, to dive on the Oconta. A beautiful wooden schooner, its remains lie between roughly 150' and 185'. Oddly enough I was the only one on the boat who has been to it before, so I gave everyone a briefing and was promptly voted First to Go In. The current was fairly ripping, and just swimming the 30' or so from the boat to the beacon rather kicked my ass. I've dived this site with a line running down to it, and I've dived it without. Unfortunately today the line was gone, which made me question doing the dive at all. I decided to go for it though, the sun had set so it would be a lovely night dive, and I was reasonably comfortable I could find it. There is room to stand by the beacon, so after working out a dive plan with the guys on the boat (primarily, Who's reel am I taking if you guys don't recover mine?), Carl and I headed down. It was my good fortune that the old line had parted at the top, so when we got down to 150' it was floating out horizontally behind the Oconta. It was a relief to get tied in, as I knew in about ten minutes the boatful of guys were going to come barreling down my reel. The last thing I wanted was to have a pile of divers staring at me at 170', and only be able to shrug my shoulders. Two divers were using scooters, and no sooner had we tied in than I heard the whir of their props. I was able to point the two anchors out to Carl, which have led some folks to believe there are two wrecks there (I'm pretty firmly in the one-wreck camp.) Terry Irvine was shooting video, so while penetrating I made sure to shine my light through the cracks in the hull for effect. We all wound up leaving the wreck at about the same time, clinging to the sheer wall for purchase in the flow. At 20 feet my manual O2 injector stuck open, which made things rather more interesting. Fortunately I was able to unplug it quickly before it took me up, but it sure did me get my heart moving. We also learned that Carl desperately needs a constant PO2 computer. Both of my computers had cleared by 15 minutes, and we were the last ones in the water, when I checked how much he had left. "Twenty minutes!!!" I almost lost my dsv.

I was pumped up from the dive, and hadn't even crossed over the transom when I burst out with "Was that great or what?" Stony silence. "Um, you guys didn't like it?" More silence, then a staccatto "No. Too much current" from Giz, with another asking "Is that what diving in New Jersey is like?" I got a real kick out of that.

Sunday's dive was a one-and-done on the Jodrey bow. Our boat was moored directly over the line running down to the bow, making navigation a snap. Michael had skipped the dive, so I buddied up with David. Despite several dives here I found myself impressed all over again with the sheer size of it. Wayne Green had told me once about two divers that he has brought here every Sunday, season after season, and I can appreciate why. There are just so many places to explore. After dipping into a cargo hold and doing a few swim-throughs we spent our time staying higher on the wreck. There's something just so comforting on a dive to see the strobe blinking away on the line. At deck level of the forward superstructure is an area oddly free from zebra mussels. Despite 33 years underwater it was nearly devoid of silt due to the current, and was intact right down to the fiberglass insulation peeking out of the ceiling. The bridge too has decayed very little, such that it is possible to still read the sticky tape on the instruments calling out "Calibrated to Statute."

As happens so often when I dive, before I'd finished deco I was already looking forward to the next time...