The Snerk Report
Volume 4
dive 75
Sunday afternoon, the surf is still huge, but Nils and I are happy to head
back to Kaiwi point as we saw fish in broad daylight there. We put in at
the pier and head out. Standing in the bow, skimming over the Kona blue
water on a magic sled with flying fish lining our path like rose petals
being tossed before us. For the moment we are truly kings. We tie up at
the same buoy as the day before and make an attack plan figuring the fish
to be in the same spot. Nils says it is too far to swim to the point, but
the tie up is easier, because I don't have to get wet to tie up. Too bad
for Nils, he can swim. We synchronize our entry to prevent the boat from
rocking, like a well oiled machine we fall on top of the mu sitting under
our boat. He has move away time while we rush to load our guns. I play
around with a couple of rocks and catch a little crab and show it to the
mu. He dives down and plays around with a couple of rocks to show me how
it is done. While his attention is diverted, I gain a yard. He notices I
look bigger and does it again to see if he was right; I gain another yard.
This is not how it is done. He is still frustratingly close when the uku
comes along side to help in the hunt. He is not as big as the one
yesterday, but a good size. I turn and shoot from the hip. I miss.
(Remember, this is BEFORE I got all the helpful advice from the uku
masters... if I knew then what I know now... well it would be a
different story I tell you. I certainly would have straightened out my
arm, aimed behind the gill and pulled the trigger instead of pulled the
trigger, aimed behind the gill, and straightened my arm.)
Nils had taken over on the mu and had gotten nowhere. The missed uku stayed
just out of range and followed me everywhere. I figured to lead him into
a trap. I went and got Nils and we headed off, uku in tow. I saw a big
rock ahead and figured to quickly go past, turn around and hide behind the
rock and shoot the approaching uku. I knew those old westerns would pay
off someday. Nils suddenly starts yelling, the bear cub has just seen the
uku. I nod my head and show him the plan, he must read German westerns,
because he caught on right away. We lay in wait for our ambush. The uku
approaches. At 20 feet, Nils does a sacrifice shot to attract him,
(something we talked about in a different context... I guess Germany
doesn't have westerns) the uku doesn't come into my range and we head off
to the point. Nils practices on some large waha nui, but misses. I go
into the surf and see a little papio with some moana kea, someone should
study that particular relationship... they are too fast for me and are
soon gone. Nothing but lots of big mu, I give up on them shortly and
decide to chase them all into the rocks and trap them against the shore.
Luckily I manage not to get washed up on the rocks, and it is always
exciting when one can see nothing but white bubbles. I reach safety and
see the herd has moved over between me and Nils. It is time to head back,
so for fun, I do an old fashioned fish roundup and head them over towards
Nils' bubbles. I sure hope he is facing this way... I manage the
perfect drive and they pass right by Nils. He had shot and lost a nenue
and was in the mid-reload phase of gun entanglement when he looked up and
was charged by 15 giant mu. He was ready to believe my vicious stories
were all true when he saw me chasing them! We head back to the boat, once
again empty handed... fortunately, it was still beautiful Kona when we
surfaced, and there was another day for diving still left.
dive 76
Monday, another day in paradise. Nils and I plan an early dive as we have
homework and are heading back to Honolulu. We spent Sunday evening
checking out a really cool speargun store. Edward, you and Andre would be
in heaven, it has the entire walls of the store covered with assorted
spearguns. The owners were very nice (they made the mistake of working
late on Sunday night and let us in). I did get another dive bag, just
because they had the good kind there. Worth checking out for anyone going
to Kona. Better than anything I have seen.
We dive off of the Kailua pier. Setting down our gear inspires
the centipede in Nils's snorkel to crawl out. (It has been rather dry on
the big island) Needless to say,we check our regulators. I inform Mark
that they always travel in pairs and leave him to inspect his jeep (evil
snerk!). We have to forgo our guns as diving in zone B meant swimming
through zone A and we could not posess guns in zone A. There was some
discussion of having someone throw our guns to us in zone B, but there
would be the return problem. It would be bad to spear an innocent
bystander who had the bad luck to wander onto the pier at the wrong time.
We took off sans weapons and were immediately attacked by vicious biting
dascyllus. Those bullies could detect our weakness. We headed out to an
island Mark told us about in the sand off of the ledge. We found it. It
was covered with fish and was the main cleaning station for the bay. I
looked for uku (Mark said they were always there) but saw none. Nils was
playing in the sand, he had found a neat speckled eel with a dorsal fin
that starts on his nose. We had fun with him. I don't know if garden eels
go in and out the same holes, but when there is only one eel and he can pop
up in different places, it is cool. Once he put his gills under the sand
and then he could make pretty little sand fountains. The weke would come
over at the sight of moving sand and tickle his head with their barbels.
We moved off and headed back to the ledge. We were forced to listen to
loud whale noises. They were making many strange and different noises.
One couldn't help but wonder what they were doing. I managed to hear Nils
take a pretend shot and turned in time to see him shoot a big mu at point
blank with his pretend gun. Nils was getting worried about our air supply
as he got lost and missed a couple of turns we had made and figured we were
a half mile away from our start instead of next to Thurston point,
(spitting distance from home.) I thought his 800 pounds meant we should
stray further. Our communications were cut short with the over head
approach of the semi sub. It has two attached divers that the passengers
cannot see. Their job is to disperse fish food. We waved at the tourists
and played with the nenue who couldn't decide which people were better, the
food people or the two of us. The fish were flashing in and out of color
patterns that were amazing to watch. Just watching them made me flash on
going back to school again. Yet another thing I would like to study. Well,
enough playing around, we headed back to the pier. I dried my Aladdin off
really well and did not pack it near my wet wetsuit lest it find out it was
on a plane. I figured I could surely undo any airplane damage by joining
Roger and/or Dick on an evening dive off Oahu.
dive 77
Friday, about noon the wind stops, the classroom gets hot and the ocean
flat. Having an ocean view is a mixed blessing. The last bell finally
rings and I can start moving towards getting underwater. I show up
begging and Roger lets me come along. Tomas and Mat are starters and the
deep team of Dick, Joe and Brian soon arrive. We load up and wait for
the big cheese from Seattle to show. We go get gas, watch the Friday
afternoon races start, return to the slip and await Mike. I narrowly miss
falling into severe diet coke withdrawals, everyone gets to see me growl.
Mike shows, steps on and we are off. Roger wants to catch aquarium fish.
I volunteer to help in the venture. We head out. The spinnakers line the
horizon adding vibrant color the blue sea. I visit with Mike while Joe and Brian
show each other all the new stuff they have gotten since the last time they
went diving. Another layer of wetsuits, additional lights, the usual.
Mike looks around for a knife to cut the dangling cable tie on his
mouthpiece. Every one seems to have a knife. Joe pulls out something that
looks like special kitchen shears for cutting open lobsters, I refrain from
asking, I am afraid his answer might make sense. I throw the anchor at
the hole; Dick and Mike are over the side before I tie off. Joe and Brian
are next, they plan an hour or so. Joe riggs up and then remembers that he
left the parking brake on inside the magic black box. He gets 90% squared
away and is too itchy to get wet. He is over the side with one pin still
loose on the accordion. (He plans to fix it later, while diving, when he
isn't so busy.) Tomas and Mat head out and Roger and I go over what
fish we are going to catch and where. We are planning to go to the inside
little ledge and pick up wrasses and nasos. I take my gun just in case. I
am thinking Roger will run out of air, and as long as I am at the hole...
On the bottom is Joe trying to do the last pin adjustment on his box. It
is always best to take something all the way back to square one. I think
he loves it, he no doubt will shortly have pieces everywhere and tool kits
out. I try not to look. I head off with Roger in the lead. It is sort
of murky, and there is a slight Diamond Head current, Roger swims right by
the little ledge in search of it. I call him over, there is some pleasant
discussion about where to set the net, whether or not a psychhead is worth
a set or not, etc. He heads off onto the hard pan, I follow; I am trying
to catch fish while keeping up. I manage a small gray humu that bites me
and gets away. I miss an orange shoulder, a naso with streamers and a
zoster. I could have gotten the zoster too, if I didn't have to keep up with
the net man. He finally saw a naso, we set and caught it like a couple of
pros. We wander back to the hole with no more net sets. I catch one
puffer and miss two. Roger is low on air and frustrated. I am sure he
wishes he had brought his gun instead. The water is just perfectly murky,
and there are opelu kala everywhere. He heads up and I quickly hand him
the bucket. I am off to spear. Joe and Brian wander through the hole
(with lights). Brian tells me there is a giant fish out there. I ask him
"Where? What kind?" and he just chortles. I leave them and make my way
out toward the car battery. There are opelu kala scattered out from the
bottom all the way to the surface. Nicely spaced, no sign of predators
about. Dick and Mike probably shot at all the good stuff by now anyway.
I see a big Kahala cruise by, that must be Brian's fish. That explains the
chortles. Nothing in the way of uku. I move back towards Diamond Head and
the rocks outside. There are lots of weke ula feeding around real close.
I could get two and make a complete meal. Well if I spend too much time
down here, I will get razzed for getting no dinner as well as no money. I
head up the line and meet up with Dick. He immediately chastises me for
only catching one fish. I ask him what he got and get a mixed answer. He
isn't bragging, he tells me that there is fish in the boat, Mike or Tomas
must have scored. The dynamic duo swim by on the bottom, heading back to
the anchor. They reappear at 15' swimming upcurrent to the boat, Joe is
swimming upside down. He either dives too much or not enough. They seem
to have had a good time. The cold drives me to the surface. Roger has the
crew spell bound with a story, all true no doubt. Mike is the hero of the
day, taking only perfect shots on papio. He has two in the boat. One shot
just the way he told me in his e-mail. The other fish was shot from below,
chin to brain shot! Show off! Send him back to Seattle I say! Tomas even
got an opelu kala for his dinner. My only redemption is that I can make
Brian and Jan jealous by mentioning that I will have to eat leftover beef
basil and green curry with phad thai. Turns out Dick, (who has been
merciless on the missed fish remarks), mistook a kahala for an uku and shot
it. The shot was low, he lost the fish. All I can say is at least I
know what kind of fish I miss. The last divers are on board, the anchor
gets pulled and we head in, meeting up with Glacier Bay Dave who has been
getting uku on Molokai for his entertainment. We wash up the boat and
enjoy the fireworks Joe thoughtfully provided. He goes all out, I must
remember to be kinder to him... I'll wait for the next dive report.
dive 78
Sunday morning, blustery day, trades 15-20, cold and rainy. It is
only because there is no one to snuggle with that I manage to get out of
bed. I wonder if anyone else will show up for the planned dive off of the
Mo'o. Roger, Dick, Brian, Joe, Dave, and Athleen are starters. Michael
has more sense and is probably sipping hot coffee and waiting to see the
Mo'o head for the 100' hole. We pull out of the slip, Brian has been
helping move the Mo'o often enough now that he can officially be
promoted to crew first class. Here is a man who could "not my fault" his
way out of his own thoughts. The Mo'o did manage to escape her chains and
bound out to sea. Athleen and I played mind games with Roger. He doesn't
mind forgetting school meetings, birthdays, holidays or even line ups, but
there are some thoughts he still treasures. The thought that he had
forgotten a memory that he wanted to savor over and over caused the blood
to rush from his face. The techies were up to their usual antics. Joe was
explaining how updated and redistributed the weight was. He went on with confusing
high tech talk, then showed off the modification, which consisted of
wrapping something with duct tape. Talk about someone who should be in
the mail order business, I was expecting something that had lights, wires,
two or three types of metal and double stitching.
We got to the hole and Dick was over with the anchor. The boys
with all the tanks were next, the plan was that Roger was going to take
them out along the peninsula and let them try and get deep. Athleen and I
were last. The water was clear and the current nonexistent. By the time I
got in, Dick was about through with his dive, he was crawling up the
buoy line as I was floating down on the hole. He had seen nothing except
the one thing that swam by. Nothing to spear really, just that one
swimming by thing. It doesn't matter, I haven't speared anything in so
long that I need something super spectacular to get respect back anyway.
Athleen and I check out a passing eagle ray, I sure have seen him a lot
lately. The chromis are nest building and fighting off all voracious egg
eaters like lemon butterflies. They are so busy eating that I can pet
them. Athleen drifts off toward the mauka side of the hole and I look out
and see a school of distant weke ula. The biggest ones won't come close,
but they are all a fair size. I am not going to get them close enough to
miss, so I take a long shot and get the fish. It is not pretty, a low
shot. Fortunately, Mike is probably having a morning swim, wishing he was
diving and is not here to see this belly wound. The fish are gone by the
time I can look up again. Athleen and I then head Diamond head to see if
we come across anything in that direction. There is a large school of
oceanic file fish which escort us to and from the hole. We can here
distant whale noises, but see no game fish. The mu come over to tease me
on our way back to the hole but of course I don't get close. Roger comes
back empty handed and heads up with instructions for me to clear the
anchor. Athleen finds something on top of the hole and gives me what she
thinks is the perfectly obvious signal for whatever it is. It would make
a great cuddle fish signal, and I briefly wonder if I am missing a once in
a lifetime opportunity. The other guys return, and they understand
Athleen's secret signal and check it out. Curiosity overwhelms me and I
join them in bothering what turns out to be a small octopus. He is small
and cute, and flashing brave angry colors at me. A two year old
threatening to not be your friend. Every one is back at home base and my
meter wants me to head back to the dugout. I free the anchor and head up
with the rest of the team wandering in from the outfield.
Decompression is spent marveling at the zooplankton, glistening bright blue
little copapod things are zooming all around making magic star dust. The
show is good, but I am reminded of the aura borialis for more than one
reason and the shivering once again takes the stunning beauty out of the
experience. Athleen and I head up. Joe soon follows, loaning Brian his
mask, apparently Brian broke a strap and has had a one handed dive holding
his mask on his face. Four tanks, umteen regulators, lights, liftbags,
floats... no extra mask... amazing! Soon we are all on the boat except
Dave who still is decompressing. The dive boat Rani with a boat load of
tourists shows up and circles around wanting to tie up to the buoy. We hope
Dave stays down as they tie up and pretty much are on top of him. Our
anchor breaks loose just after we realize that there is no way we could
pull it without ramming their boat. Fortunately it is Dave that is still on
the line and we don't worry about him. He makes it back on board, Brian
and Dick haul anchor and we head back. Joe's duct tape didn't really
work and will probably leave things sticky forever, Brian needs a new
strap, Dave has boats trying to run over him, Athleen has a past, Dick
only got to see tuna and imagine, Roger is about to come down with oxygen
ear, AND I SHOT A BEAUTIFUL FISH; all in all it was a success all around.
Hope the wind dies down soon.
I know I promised to be nice on my next dive report; I lied.
dive 79
Almost dried out; you cannot call Friday's swim to the anchor line a dive
just because I had a tank on. The weekend is ending, but then just in the
nick of the bell Dick is up for a Sunday evening trip to Kahala. We
meet at the Mo'o iki, buy gas and head for Kahala. The land breezes are
dying down and the evening is turning glorious. The diamond head buoy
seems like a rock in a river as the water piles up on one side and eddies
on the lee. Hmmm... strong current going towards barbers point. We pass a
whale heading for Diamond Head. We head for Fantasy reef because I figure
there is lots of area to hide behind. We find some road kill in the form of
a child's life jacket. Then we cruise over the reef, the water is clear
and I can recognize the places as we drift over them. I throw over the
anchor and the silence of the lake is ended as the boat whips around and
suddenly we are hung up in a raging river. Hmmmm... I throw over all the
spare lines, Dick notes that one cannot have too many lines. We are in
no hurry as the sun is high. Dick spits off the bow and the lugi passes
the stern in five seconds. 15 feet in 5 seconds... lets see, that is 180
feet in a minute... times 60... now here; there is some divergence of
great brains... (another great thing to study is how everyone does math in
their heads). Anyway, we go crazy with numbers and while I tend to look to
re-do the math when there is an obvious problem (ten knots), Dick goes
back to the actual experiment (maybe he can change the results to fit the
math!) Anyway he spits again and it takes six seconds!! With a decrease
of this magnitude, I gear up and get ready. We both head up current in
search of fish. The current is not too bad actually, especially when you
hug the cliffs. A large barracuda is high above me and swims off into the
distance. I head up the reef on the inside, watching how the fish are also
hugging the bottom. There are tunnels of no current as well as the pali
lookout kind of places. I see a large papio and a small uku out to sea
heading my way, I hide behind a rock and try to decide which one I want...
well neither of them comes into range, the large papio shows interest but
heads off. I note that the 20 mu that are hugging the sand are moving
upcurrent and detect that Dick is approaching from down current. He has
not seen anything and heads off into the sand. I head up a little further,
watch the mu wishfully, they are all right on the bottom, except when I
get too close, then they move up and away. Well, the next good spot is a
long ways up current, so I meet up with Dick again and we head back
toward the boat. Now the wind slots are really fun, and I fly at high
speed and play with the current. I get to the sand channel and check to
the inside. (There is no current at all in the sand channel.) I hear
Dicks gun go off... I head back that way in case there are seconds to be
had, or he needs help, but before I get very far, two papio come by, they
are not coming close to me, but they head off towards Dick's bubbles...
some guys have all the luck. He swims into view with a nice size papio in
his bag. I continue my flight going VFR flying too low through the
mountains at extremely high speeds. I almost crash twice, but escape with
only minor abrasions. I head past the anchor as I have lots of air (15
minutes going up, 2 coming back; zip) Dick heads up and I am hesitant to
get too far down current as it may be stronger near the surface, and it
will soon be time to head up. Under the anchor line is the cutest little
shark, a white tip about 2 feet long, he swims really sinewy like he is a
large menacing monster. He heads under the ledge as I head up towards
the sunset. The current has lessened and I am back up in time to catch the
big orange ball sinking off to the west. The clouds over Diamond Head are
on fire and once again I realize how great the world is.
Dick is happy
with his fish, I am happy with the sunset and the great dive. Dick
reaffirms his position as crew hand first class; but he does manage to pull
the anchor. (Small consolation in this case, but I guess we can't all
understand tricky words like bow line.) We head for home on the most
spectacular ocean. It is lake like, with mama and baby whale lolling off
of Black Point. The water surface is made up of blue and sunset orange
circles making a psychedelic surface that would look fake in any painting.
The Navatec wake offers relief in the surface, and we surf on all the
little waves, frolicking like other sea mammals. The Mo'o iki pauses at
the buoy and we reaffirm the lessening current and bother the birds who are
planning to spend the night. Waikiki is glassy enough for ideal water
skiing and we zoom back safely home. The weekend is redeemed and I play
loud music and sing all the way home.
dive 80
Saturday eve... glassy calm, the world is just waiting for exploration. The
Mo'o iki is full with Mac, Nils, Dick and myself. With a full boat plus
fooling around at the fuel dock trying to get gas, we are semi-limited in
our dive sites. We are all opposed to diving the hole, but there seems to be
no other options any more appealing. Dick is so grumpy about it that we
are all sure he is going to get some giant fish. Funny how we are so used
to plot lines that we begin to believe that fact follows fiction. I have a
cold and refuse to dive in and secure the boat to the buoy. Grumpy captain
Dick does the honors, announces that there is no real current, and we
hand him his tank and gun. Mac and Nils are in next. I enter last
anticipating a slow decent but sinuses have no problem and I am soon on the
bottom. The water is beautiful, clear, little fish everywhere. Nils has
left his gun in order to spend more time observing fish and fooling around
with out feeling like he is supposed to be hunting. There is no sign of
food fish, and I join Nils in a play dive. There are three little flounder
fish and I spend time bothering them no end. I thought the two big ones
were together, but one snuck up on a still one and bit it! A chase ensued
and colors were flashing! Great stuff! I looked up to see a papio
approaching... good size... I am out in the open and he remains aloof. It
is now or never and I take a long but I feel perfect shot. Yup, perfect
except the string is a wee bit short. Well now I can say "It was a long
shot anyway" and be literal about it. Dick appears and pesters around
while I try and reload. He has shot a papio and lost it. He heads up
giving me clear instructions to clear the anchor. We are tied to the
float, so I have no idea what he means. He repeats his clear yet nebulous
instructions. I figure what ever he wants probably isn't life threatening
and go about my playing. Mac scares up a small octopus which gives Nils
and I a new observation subject. He has dashed to a safe from us spot and
upset a whole group of damsels who are most bothered by his very existence.
They nip and harass him while he is trying to escape from us by hiding. I
can't help but anthropomorphize as the octopus flashes colors and jabs at
the irritating fish that won't be ignored. I leave Nils dreaming of tako
poki and make a last survey of possible fish sighting spots. Mac is
cruising high with the opelu kala and their combined outlines makes a great
photo. My meter says quit fooling around and I gather up Nils whose air
consumption is getting to be normal. We head up, Nils stops to play in a
warm water layer at about 40'. I am forced into a deep decompression due
to the great plankton display at 0-15 feet. Little stinging things galore.
Pretty little jelly fish, fabulous stenaphoric shows, and tons of little
things that look like snowdrop candies. I dodge the ones that look the
most deadly and survive. Arrive on the surface in time for the green flash
and quick trip home. Once again, we are saving all the fish for Mike.
dive 81
Sunrise Sunday, pink-orange light on a glassy smooth sea. I wish I was on
my way to Molokai. March winds sure aren't happening this year. Too bad I
have so much school work. Roger calls and while my mouth is talking about
the work I have to do, I am looking at the lake called the Pacific and
thinking how many days are this perfect? O.K., I haven't lost all my good
sense. Meet at the Prince William. Get there just as the last tank is
loaded, perfect. Gerry, Roger and I are heading for ewa in search of new
spots and big money. I need fish for class (students have requested a large
eel) so really this is school work in a way. Roger is pushing for Barbers
point which has never proved lucrative, but could contain the Atlantis of
aquarium fish cities hidden in the barren flat. (I think it is a
Brigadoon-type thing that only exists on rough days.) We are cruising and
searching as the water clarity matches the surface glass. Roger has a
bunch of old lineups of potential areas that we jotted down on a day where
the only difference was that I was 15 years younger. Sure enough, one of
them, after deciphering lineups (lot less poles 15 years ago), looks
great. We drop anchor just as we drift over a mooring. Roger and I both
immediately look at our more recently used marks... we just discovered the
pinnacles!! I haul up the anchor and we continue along in the same vain,
we anchor again and find we have rediscovered Stanley's spot! Just shows,
we have been diving this coast for a while, another reason to be on Molokai
on days like today. Gerry and Roger take off and I am on my own, I have a
little net, but I must admit I make the worlds greatest net set. I may
miss with a gun; but I know exactly how they think. My net set is so
good, I never reset it, just keep catching fish. I am particularly proud
of the two male flame wrasse that displayed their way into my trap. After
about 10 more fish, the one of the flames figures out the bucket door, and
is out when I put in a yellowtail. There is nothing so deeply infuriating
as an escape, especially when the fish is a flame wrasse. When ever they
join the real world they hover and show off before taking off. This guy
zips out of the bucket, and sits right above the door quivering his fins
and taking in the surroundings before darting off. I would normally never
spend a whole six minutes trying to catch one fish, especially when there
are lots of fish around. I would almost never spend my last six minutes of
bottom time on a fish who knows about the net, knows about me, and now even
knows about the bucket! Well, I guess as I get older and have less female
hormones; my ego is getting bigger; because damn if that stupid little
bugger was going to get the best of me!!! Just as my little bell went off,
that fish was bagged. I know it didn't pay, but HA, it sure felt good.
Now I have no bottom time for my next bottle, Gerry and Roger are starting
their second dive and I signal that I will be sitting one out. The sun
shines, and I have surface entertainment in the form of akule fishermen
complete with Cessna 152 working just inside of us. It sure doesn't look
like the fish have a chance, as the plane spots and the boats encircle.
Roger and Gerry are back after three quick sets (I can tell from their
bubbles just where they went and how long their drives were). We move
inside to 45-50' and head down. There were about five turtles on the
surface, and that turns out to be just a tip of the iceberg, sleeping
turtles are everywhere. I get one to help me drive a green bird wrasse and
we do a great job until the last bit, when jumbo/dumbo fails to close and
the speed demon escapes. The coral is scattered and I have great fun
chasing fish one at a time all over hell and gone. My theory being that if
your net is set well enough, the fish will eventually find it. Some times
I have no clue where I am until I follow the naso into the net. Three
itty bitty mu find my net, one of them will be in my class. I can study
his every move and find out what their Achilles heel is. I manage to spend
an hour on the bottom and have plans to clean up on my next dive. While
decompressing, I make out bubbles in the distance... hmmm that's funny,
they couldn't still be down here, they use enough air to fill a blimp, just
yelling at each other. There is not enough air on the boat for them to do
another dive with out using my air... Foiled again... it's like saving
food for later if you have older siblings. The ____heads are soon back.
We have done well. I have fish for my aquarium, got to visit with friends,
chase after fish, and out smart mu! The ride home provides us with dolphin
frolicking and fish flying. Still early enough to do school work, yahoo!
While sorting fish into my bucket to take to school, Roger picks up the mu
and he squiggles and jumps and makes it down the crack between the dock, we
hear the splash and watch as he joins the Keihi population of fish who foil
the shore fishermen!
dive 82
Midweek, sneak in a dive. Five thirty and Mac and Roger are starters as
well. We head out on the sea leaving the hassles of life rolling in the
wake. The trades are back and we figure to stay in Waikiki. The pyramids
seem the most appealing. I have brought along a bucket and a hand net to
pick up assorted invertebrates for school. The water is clear as we drop
anchor. Mac puts out good scope as there is a fool moon rising and there
might be a tad of a current. The current proves slack as I am first in
with bucket, gun, hand net. I land in the mist of opelu kala. The boat is
directly over the spirals so I figure the anchor to be dragging, but I
find it sitting in the sand at 100' right between the pyramids and the
spirals. It looks fine, and I head on towards the pyramids. There are the
usual fish congregating on the site but I see no uku, there is one moana kea
but I don't bother and head in to the ledge where I turn over rocks and
catch small things. I find the perfect really mean eel, but don't have the
means to capture it. I have gotten a lot more cautious with those guys. I
have forgotten how much fun invertebrate hunting can be. Each rock is a
potential treasure trove. Amazing little worlds with wonderful creatures.
No wonder that NASA wanted to turn over a rock on Mars. I was just
putting a little shrimp in my bucket when I noticed my six uku and one mu
entourage. Faithfully following me from rock to rock. The uku were tiny,
but I would eat that mu for a few days. By the time I got my gun around,
he had drifted away and I was not going to spend any effort on that
species!! I continued along and never saw much except tiny things to play
with and capture. As I headed back towards the pyramids, I heard a gun go
off. Roger was out in the sand, reloading with a good size mu in the bag.
I gave him the shaka and he shook his head to indicate that there might
have been a lot of luck involved. My meter was telling me to head up, (I
still had 1200 lbs, this meter thing can be a pain) so I headed along
towards the spirals. There are clear trails all over the bottom. I don't
think I could get lost in this area anymore. (Wait till the first summer
storm) Mac is hanging on the line empty handed and I decompress as the sun
moves low in the sky. Roger arrives and we watch a giant cruise boat
drifting not very far away. I get back in the boat and see the big orange
ball leave Hawaii. The passengers on the cruise ship are apparently
watching the sunset as well, our boat was just incidentally in the way.
They head on their way at about the time Roger comes up. The moon is above
Diamond Head shinning brightly, making me think lots of full moon thoughts,
and I pull anchor while singing "Moon River." I have little creatures for
class, Roger has a nice fish. He said it was a tricky shot as he saw the
fish, swam straight up and while the fish was puzzling about it, he dropped
down and took a long shot. It was a good shot. I will try this next time.
It is probably a plot to start me doing all kinds of mu dances! Once
again, at least I got to get wet, always an upper. Hope to get back out on
Friday to celebrate.
dive 83
Friday finally rolls around and the ocean has remained uncharacteristically
calm. I am anxious to get out there and spear something. Mo'o at five
finds, Roger, Dick, Mac and I ready to go. We wait for a bit with the
hopes of company and at around 5:30 we head out towards ewa. The sailboat
races are just underway, on a windless day the boats really pile up in the
channel, we end up tacking our way out. We are heading along when we see
an underwater feature covered with fish going from 200+ to 150 or so. We
fail at refinding it and continue on with Mac on the stern wondering why we
are going in circles but knowing too well not to ask. It is flat and clear
so we circle around a bit before anchoring. Dick jumps in and
immediately breaks a rubber, fortunately Roger finds another for him and I
get in the water while he is fooling around. The kala are thick and
excited by our presence. It looks good, but I feel obliged to check and
straighten out the anchor. The anchor is sitting in a pile of chain, boy
it is not too often that a chain pulled around a pocillapora can hold the
Mo'o. I straighten it and leave the anchor laying on nothing. The kala
seem to have disappeared but I can see a few out by what Mike would
probably call guard stones outside and Diamond Head of the Rock (the
place Roger likes to hang out). I head over and behind the kala and high
are a school of rainbow runner. They immediately come charging over and
encircle me. There are big ones, medium ones small ones and tiny ones. I am
confused by the choices and they circle once and disappear. My heart is
racing, my mind is still reeling as I realize that I have missed my chance
at a fish I have yet to spear. Total despair sinks in. I feel like such
an idiot... that schooling thing really works! While I am debating
burying my head in the sand, Dick swims up and wonders if I have seen
anything. Aaaaahhhhhh!!! He gathers that I am in a slightly bad mood and
leaves me to wander on. The sand bar shark appears and heads off to the
outside. I am still reeling and replaying the whole thing in my head.
Roger comes over to "his" spot and I figure to head over to David's old
area. Mac is heading up that way and so I am left going back to the ewa
corner. I see Dick's bubbles and realize I am trapped in the middle. I
head outside, come across the shark and two smallish rainbow runners. I
could partially redeem myself, except the fish are very close to the shark
and I would be bound to loose them. The fish veer off and head up a
little, I follow. I hear a gun and figure Roger had found the rainbow
runner, I quickly go to check as the shark is heading that way. Mr. Mac
has a papio and heads off while the shark swaggers in and circles around
the ledge looking for the treat. Roger and I are watching this bossy guy
when Dick sees the shark and charges it . Well at least he is brave, the
shark reacts but does not disappear like the rainbow runner have. The
shark is feisty enough that I will stay in sight of someone before I shoot
anything. Roger and I head off in search of a dinner but fail at our weke
ula chasing. Dick stays around the rock but sees no game either. We
all head back to the anchor and I actually still have bottom time, so I stop
and visit a little shrimp, turn over a rock for him to snack on. I come
across a small octopus; I harass it out of its hole, but no fish comes
over to check it out. Dick is at the anchor and heading up, empty
handed, Roger and I join him and head up. I take one last glance in hopes
of getting a second chance, realize I will survive being bested and slowly
head up. Mac is the hero with a nice papio in the boat. As we head back,
Roger and Dick actually console me, I expected advice: "You have to think
fast, pick a fish, and shoot," instead I got a whole bunch of "We have
all done that" and "Rainbow runner are like that"... I guess I really
screwed up worse than I thought! I am about to take apart gear when Dick
points to shore.
Mother Nature takes a lot of the sting out of things as we watch the moon
rise over Waikiki. She is blood orange and fills the gap between Diamond
Head and the Ko'olaus. The fireworks go off in celebration of a new month
and Luna herself shines a silver ribbon to guide us safely home. Simple
beauty overcomes all and I can't help but feel joy in the evening. As I
head to the stern, I face the dark sky and see Orion and the Seven sisters
shinning brightly, reminding me of freinds far away in cold places. I
smile and know there are more great dives ahead.
dive 84
Saturday, Roger and Gerry are diving tropicals and invite me along for
color. We load up the Prince William and head for "Garbage Can Lid " off
of ewa beach. Roger assigns me to catching potters while he and Gerry go
for all of the other stuff. Roger tells me to watch for a bucket and
bucket line that they lost about a year ago, I give him a look and he
explains that they found it again about a month ago. I go with the don't
ask theory and it remains a mystery why it is still there. We anchor in
about 75' and I do most of my dive at 80-ish. It isn't the best potter
spot, but I manage to maintain my reputation while the other guys did well
chasing yellow tangs. I stay down into decomp time catching fishers and
potters. Two giant fearless kahala come in just as I am heading up. They
come almost close enough to touch. There have been schools of opelu
overhead throughout my dive, no doubt it is what these guys are after. I
show Gerry how great my computer is and almost convince him he needs one.
We move the boat and head for some new area, wander around with Roger and
I taking turns with the look box and yelling at the driver of the boat.
Some things never change. We find a 70-60 ledge with not much on it
(kinda like outside the hole ledge). There are some crevices and one has a
trap with big spiny lobsters crawling around in it. Gerry is trying to
figure out how to get them, while Roger sets the net for the school of red
tails that are also in the crevice. I head on looking for a place to put
my net, I catch two anthias who are lost and acting like damsels on a
pocillapora head. I continue on and cross over the great algae bed and
wonder about the hows and whys of it. I get back to empty hard pan again
and come across evidence of science. Rebar pounded into the substrate
every 10 feet or so, very strange place to study. I also come across the
coolest Hawaiian stone, this one is for my front yard!! It is a very nice
artifact, but it is too big for me to do anything but leave. It has been
tied up with a too small string, perhaps someone else (one of those science
guys) tried to rescue it at one time. I will have to show this to
Roger... I move on and make out a swarm of fish, artificial reef? Pipe
line? Yep, the outfall they buried out here about 20 years ago. It is
swarming with lots of fish, including lots of small uku, lots and
lots... I wonder how fast uku grow. I will keep track of the little ones
at Marnie's rock and the hole and see when they get big. These are
slightly larger, but not worth coming here for. There are too many fish
for my little net, I pick up a fish here and there and continue to explore.
I love a whole new area. The cap rock is dumped in dis-jointed piles
making a row of reefs that I follow into 35' of water. I have covered a
huge area and am excited by my finds. The area is spooky because the fish
are so thick and excitable, the species change as I head in, but the
atmosphere remains the same. I will need all my air to get back, like the
little vole that I am, the only way I can find my way is to retrace all of
my steps. I know there is a shorter way to the boat, but I stay high and
swim from familiar rock to familiar rock. Pass over my artifact, the
coolest thing, recross the science field, across the algae bed, boy, did I
swim far! Back to the ledge, the same eagle ray is working over the sand.
It gives me the happy close to home feeling. (The algae bed kind of makes
you feel like you are lost just from the unchanging uniformity in all
directions, no fish to recognize) Yep, home again and I note Gerry had to
leave the lobsters for the rightful predators. I check their catch, not
bad for one crevice. I get in the boat and use my excitement to get them
to move the boat over to where I finished the last dive. More look box
antics before we anchor in the perfect spot. We all work together to
catch more fish than we know what to do with. It has been a good day's
work for Roger and Gerry, and a good day of fun for me. I will be up doing
homework tonight when it is too dark to do anything else anyway. We
finish rinsing and loading and we get to watch the sunset through the masts
of Keihi. Stop to pick up a drink, blast the stereo and head home.
dive 85
Wednesday 5:25 Roger calls and says "Hey, aren't you a diver?" He and Mac
agree to wait as I get my okole in gear. There is still plenty of light
as we head out to sea in the Mo'o iki. We head for the hole on the theory
that it is equally bad everywhere. I let the masters enter the water
first. The water is murky and full of plankton. As I sink, I can discern
the guardian stones and I drop down while Mac and Rog check the hole.
There is a good size uku out in the sand. He won't come close even though
he makes several approaches high and low. The fact that he hangs around
gives me hope and I continue to work on him. Four waha nui cruise by
heading for the hole, where did they come from and since when do they live
hear? There are small weke ula up high playing with the opelu kala. The
opelu kala are divided into two groups, small guys and big guys. The
schools are swimming through each other but not mixing. The fish seem to
only key into the movements of similar sized fish... more cool ideas run
through my head as the uku makes yet another not close enough pass. He
fades into the shadow and comes back as a big fish. Three giant Kahala
cruise in changing the nature of everyone's game. They are about 20 feet
off the bottom and definitely swaggering. They circle around the hole and
come back as four. Well, all the fish have moved over the hole and I take
my cue and leave my post as well. Enough time at 90 feet, I head inside
and cruise around. Roger and Mac are both empty handed having only seen
kahala and shark respectively. The kahala keep coming around, with the
small fish all announcing their arrival like trumpeters before the kings.
Every time they pass there seems to be one more, we are up to seven the
last time through. I go back to see if my uku has come back, no luck, then
head up as the water is cold and my time has gone. I go check the anchor
and the buoy cable that is on the ground as the buoy seems to have broken
off. Hope there wasn't a boat tied up at the time! I guess the charter
boats have a captain on board anyway. Well, another empty handed dive, no
fish speared, still glad to get underwater. The Mo'o iki starts right up
as we pull anchor, she serves her purpose well, even though she is not the
Tiana (super luxury yacht especially built for rebreathers going to New
Guinea! Not that I am jealous or anything; Richard luxury bee Pyle!!)
we are back by dark and I still have time to run errands and do homework.
Can't wait 'til Friday... the ocean calls.
P.S. Study hard Mike, you are not missing anything. (except I plan to go
retrieve a really cool stone during the spring break. Lift bags, extra
gear, cool artifacts the makings of adventure!!) Good luck on those orals!
dive 86
Friday afternoon, Roger, Jason, Tomas, Mat, Mr. Mac, and myself leave the
Ala Wai and head for new ground. Roger takes it easy, and I get to be
Captain. I head for Kahala, we check the DH buoy and the current looks
Portlock, not too strong. Off of Black Point we head out for the ledge. I
am going to be anchor setter, so Roger takes over, we mess around just long
enough for me to think about taking off my tank and we anchor. I am as
fast as Mac is throwing it, and I get a free ride down. Perfect, right on
top of the ledge (65-75) and in a nice hole. I don't see anything but one
small uku bolting for his life. The ledge is heading perpendicular to
shore and it is undercut, full of eels, squirrel fish, and little slippers.
Too many eels for me, just contemplating it got me stabbed by wana! I
head out the ledge, there is a sand beach on the bottom of the ledge, but
no sand anywhere else... hmmmm, must get some strong currents around
here... I continue out what turns out to be a peninsula, reach the end at
about 95 feet, pass an old trap, but not much else. I call, see nothing,
and head back in along the other side of the finger. There is no beach on
this side, and a steeper drop, occasional caves but nothing of great
interest. I get back to where the ledge begins to run parallel to shore
and see bubbles over by the anchor. Jason, Tomas and Mat are now heading
out the same ledge I just went out along. Roger crosses over to me and I
relay the layout and show him how deep I have been. We agree to travel
together continuing up the ledge. It gets pretty steep, but there is not
much coral and the opelu kala swim off away from us. Roger worries about
the anchor and we head back. I short cut and beat him back. Mac is there
and gives me the really big signal. He neglects to tell me really big what
and he heads up and away. I sit and figure that I have been diving with Mac
for 23 years. It is nice to have gotten communication down to such a fine
science. Really big... ono? uku? eels? sharks? area? boat? wana? what!!! I
figure that if had been important, he would have worked more on making sure
I understood. (I hope.) I decide to take off along the ledge down current
toward portlock. I first come to 8 redtails and a ton of easy to catch
potters. I'll keep them in mind, but I still have the feeling that this
place has some wing-ding currents. I come to another old fish trap, this
one covered with Heniochus and near a point. There are quite a few fish,
and I pick a spot and call. Sure enough tons of uku appear. They are
small, but I feel like fresh sashimi anyway. I am trying to pick the
biggest... (they are very friendly and are easy marks) when ten Naso tangs
come along and I realize that the nasos are larger than the ukus!! Why are
there so many small uku everywhere? Will they all be big by September? Or
will it take a few years? My time is going to be up and I start the treck
back to the boat. I get there at about the same time as everyone else.
Everyone is empty handed. Jason saw the lobster, no one else saw much of
anything. 10 minutes decompressing made me cold enough to be glad I
brought a jacket. We surface just past sunset, (shucks). Mat does the
heroic anchor pull and we head in and dock just as the fire works start. A
great start to my spring break... I wonder how many days I can spend
diving... mmmmmm...
dive 87
Friday night, it has been a week of windy rough ocean and I am
ready to go diving. Nils and I pick up Tomas (he has lost his car keys )
and head to the Mo'o where we meet up with Roger, Joe and Amy. Joe has
just had surgery and I thought they must have given him a reverse lobotomy
as he had rather normal looking dive gear. He showed us his stitches,
it looks like he is out a couple of lymph glands, but you can't rule out
some sort of brain enhancement. Nope, he is his same old self, he has
some kind of full face mask/communication device - an underwater
walkie-swimmie. Get this, he is the only one who can talk, and his wife has
to listen! (what's new?)
The Mo'o starts and there was no major water or oil leaks, so far
our repairs look sound. We are heading to the spirals, but the wind is
really howling and Roger is a little worried about anchoring, he decides to
try the little hole; which pleases Nils, who is hell bent on trying out his
new underwater octopus lure. Roger drops anchor in the perfect spot, I am
down with the anchor and am way ahead of the rest. The water is murky,
dark and full of opelu kala, (two sizes) kawela 'ai, and humus. The ledge
is swarming with ta'ape and there are a bunch of uku looking at the anchor.
I load as they circle, I know they are there, but I can't find them in the
crowd and murk. My weight is off, I am too light, hmmm maybe chocolate
whiskey cake is not the best breakfast after all. At least I have the
ocean to tell me I am getting fat, it doesn't lie, well then again... it
could just be saltier than usual!
I head out the ledge to see if there is anything hanging out in deeper water.
There are a lot of small weke ula
and about six small uku, I would shoot them but they don't come close. I
figure Nils should be down and I give up, shore up my gun and turn around
to head in. Two kicks and I realize that the good size uku were actually
behind me. They split before I can think. I have to smile at all the times
I have laughed at the same scene played by others. I can see the shape of
Tomas coming down the line, followed by Nils. Perfect timing, well at
least I can get some taco and have a blast watching Nils and his first
octopus. We head in along the ledge there are no octopus anywhere... I
can't believe it, this place has tons... I head Diamond Head on the
shallow flats. There are none there either. I guess we will be forced to
wait for the sugar cane to tassel. We head back out along the Diamond
Head side, I know the trajectory will bring me to the other side of the
deep hole. The uku come along and both Nils and I watch them swim by the
outside of us and right toward some bubbles that turn out to be Roger. He
gets a small one and offers it to me before he even gets it off the spear.
I have my bag out instantly. His shot is low between the gill and pectoral
fin and when he pulls out the shaft, out comes the full stomach and he
hands me a clean fish. That is slick. Nils is playing with his great lure
and is amazed at how well it works. (He does not see the fish guts right
next to him.) I leave him marveling at his own great skill as Roger and I
head back out to deep water. Roger finds a large canoe anchor but other
than small fish we see nothing. I leave him, pass Joe and Amy, and note
that it has been 40 minutes, time to head up soon. Nils has noticed that
it wasn't really him the fish loved but has spent his time being mesmerized
by circling small uku. There is a two inch mu feeding around and he
suggests shooting it before it gets big and sassy. He is getting good at
this under water communicating. We head up the line, and everyone
assembles, Roger's fish is the take, oh yeah, Joe captured an old net float
that some archeology types had left there. He figured it was part of an
octopus lure, sure. We are up in time for sunset, everyone is glad to
enjoy it. Joe is so full of effervescence that he keeps jumping back in
the water, glad even to be cold. His mood is contagious and we are all
equally happy when he pulls the anchor. Pulling the anchor in a strong
wind is a job for heroes and he manages to fight the anchor off the bottom
using shear muscle. We head for home while Amy regales us with how well
the walkie talkie system worked. She heard loud irritating clicks that
gave her a headache. The system needs work. (Joe didn't know how to turn
the thing off. Lights were flashing when he loaded it into his car.)
The Mo'o did not seem to leak any oil and our repairs are declared
a success. When all is put away, we get a fireworks show and it is time to
head home to a fresh fish feast. Sashimi and spicy bones as appetizers,
followed by fresh uku, rice, soybeans, and luau spinach. Eat while you
can I say... the chocolate cake supplier has left the country anyway... I
am bound to lose weight soon.
dive 88
Monday, windy, cold, need sea urchins for development lab... those big
fat black ones with the short spines. Nice big eggs, lots of sperm. I
manage to convince Nils that sea urchin hunting is really fun. We take the
Mo'o iki out to about 25' off of Magic Island. Manoa is raining and we
have a perfect double rainbow from Round top to Diamond Head. Once again
the ocean serves as the great reminder and reality check. We enter the
water simultaneously and charge after urchins. I only have five buckets,
so I figure to get 10-12. (Get too many and they can't wait around to
reproduce.) We get our quota and are out of the water having used 200
pounds. I debate heading out to the ledge for a look see, but Romeo and
Juliet are already at it and I realize getting these guys up to my class
while they still have some sperm left is going to be a challenge. I am not
even sure if this merits a dive report, except I did manage to get my hair
wet, and the two tanks left on the Mo'o are not quite full.
dive 89
My name is Jennifer and I am a diveaholic. Those tanks are not quite full
and need to be used up. Dick is passing through Hawaii for a day and is
desperate to get underwater. Roger has plenty of tanks and is up for a
dive. We take the Mo'o iki and head for the Hole. Dick is amazed at how
windy and wet it is and is happy to go to the hole. I can see birds in the
distance and I am thinking this El Nino thing might pay off in terms of
tuna. It is rough and wet and I am shivering by the time we get to the
spot. Dick is the first one in and Roger and I follow. I hit something
with my gun and I hear/see it fall into the boat as I go over. I wait for
some massive equipment failure but none is forth coming and I descend
figuring whatever it was... couldn't matter too much. Roger and I spread
out and both drop down outside the hole and swim inwards. I don't see much
except the cloud of spawning butterflies over the rocks. There is that
cute little white tip hanging about inside the hole, making a great photo
opportunity. Then there is a fish I have never seen before. Hmmm, I wonder
if dive operators are releasing weird fish here... probably the El Nino
bringing them here... Hawaiian evolution... new species arrive in gangs
brought about by unusual weather systems. Not the one new thing every
10,000 years, but in clumps... while my mind is wandering I see Roger
approaching. I watch him to see if I can tell when he sees the new
fish... yep... Well, he hasn't seen one either. I leave the hole and
drift down current towards ewa. While wandering along the peninsula
chasing humus, I happen to glance up to see the big white ulua out on the
edge of the ledge. He is already leaving me and I try to call with a
nearby stone. Bang bang bang. Then I hear Dick with his professional
stones. BANG BANG. I watch the fish disappear, certain that it will go
over to Dick (especially frustrating after the remarks about the fish I
had shot while he was away). I head back toward the rocks, visit my fish
again. I get him real close, he likes things under rocks. He eats good
stuff, probably tastes good, weighs about 3-5 pounds. The dang fish will
probably be some one of a kind thing, leave it alone. I spend some time sand
rolling with weke until I see the tornado of opelu kala twist into sight.
Roger and I are both hoping to find something besides opelu kala but alas
it is a pure group. They are tight, perhaps being chased. I see nothing
but Dick and he has no fish either. I hate to admit I am glad, but I
am. He shows me his new computer (Aladdin sent him a free replacement to
his broken one), it is reading depth in deca-feet. He is at 8.2 while I
am at 82. Well I always knew he was off by a factor of something. I
leave him to watch his TV and make one last sweep before ascending. I meet
Roger at the anchor, and we head up. We all creep up the anchor line
watching T.V. I am cold and visiting is minimal during decompression. No
one else saw the ulua, or anything else for that matter. Dick is still
puzzling as his computer is telling him to decompress at 10m for 1. Is
that ten minutes at one foot? 10 meters for 1 minute? Well he is now just
hanging out at 1.7 !
I surface while the orange ball is still one minute away from the
horizon. Well, Dick notices that the key is out of the ignition... hey,
that is what I heard/saw go flying as I went in... another lucky dive, the
key landed in the boat!! Dick pulls anchor and we head back in. Roger
and I are talking about our new fish and Dick knows it by our
description. Oplegnathus punctatus, it sounds good eating according to
Jack Randall. It is only rare here, common elsewhere. I figure that makes
it fair game... the thing is toast!!
dive 90
Windy, rough, rainy... seems like good diving weather to me. Roger says he
might make it, he is supposed to go to a funeral, but if Henry doesn't
show, then he is a starter. Brian is a starter and we give up on Roger at
5:30 and head out. Brian is now an official diver and he talks of diving
boot camp... I would never make it!
I am captain, so when I see all the fairy terns diving straight
out the channel, I can head out after them. Brian politely gets out the
hand line and drags it as we make a pass through the birds. By the time we
arrive, the action has really diminished. It doesn't seem worth
persevering.
We head toward one our standard dive sites. The ride is wet and
the wind is merciless, I love it!! The rain has taken out a lot of line
ups. We figure the pyramids will be fine. (I probably could have
suggested anywhere and got an agreement from Brian.) It takes me a few
passes and we throw anchor. The wind is strong enough that we waste no
time in getting in the water. We land on a school of opelu darting about
gobbling up the ample plankton. I load my gun and head down, the pyramids
have the best sand and I see the uku below me as I come in roll and aim...
oops, look at the cloud the anchor stirs up while it cruises along. I throw
my gun down in a tantrum, (like the anchor will feel guilty if it sees that
I am mad at it) and manage to hook it on the last pyramid. The uku are
still about and I call them over and shoot right over the big one's head.
Well, once they recognized me they came out of the cementwork and were all
over me like a long lost buddy. I reload and try again, pick a smaller one
(it picked me and I can't afford to be choosy) and miss it right under the
chin. Now the big ones that were above my head come straight down and
watch me try to load fast. Not fast enough, they are gone. As long as I
am having fun, I don't really mind. I would hate to spend the whole dive
and not go anywhere, so I head off toward the spirals (I think I saw
Brian's bubbles inside, maybe he went to the ships). There is no current
and I have plenty of air, I head toward my favorite papio corner and sure
enough, just where he should be. I am not sure how I missed him, except he
was small. The weke help me reload and there are hundreds of spawning
butterflies over head. My bottom time is down to five minutes, time to
work back to the anchor. The miter paths are in evidence all over the
bottom. There has not been a swell for a while around here. I get back to
the pyramids expecting to see all the uku again, but find only two tiny
ones and one swaggering kahala. My bottom time is up and I am not sure
about Brian, we had a 25 minute meet at anchor plan... I am a little
late... I hook the anchor so it is freeable, but hopefully wont break
loose and leave Brian in the dust. I look around and see his bubbles
approaching. Good, all present and accounted for, we head up and
decompress. He doesn't go into detail about what he saw, I told him I took
shots and missed. The plankton are amazing and I spend the time tripping
on small shrimp in the sunset glow. The opelu come by again, also
tripping on the zooplankton. Flashing silver in a sparkling gold
background... not bad for rough, rainy and windy. Surface into a sea of
booze cruisers splattered across the sunset sky. Glad to have been
under, where it is dry, time to head back to the rain. The Mo'o iki helps
us to readjust to the rain by giving us occasional splashes as we blast
back into port. Rinse gear, no fish to clean, stop by foodland and pick up
some ahi poke and head back to my rainy cave not too defeated. Salty hair
again - HA!
dive 91
Well, it is still windy, but it is Friday. Nils and I meet Roger down at
the Mo'o iki. We head out into the stormy sea, Nils has declined to put on
his wetsuit simply because I recommended it. (Teenagers.) The goose bumps
are large, as buckets of water are being thrown at him from the sassy
ocean. I see birds again, over inside the pyramids. Roger is not
enthusiastic about my dragging my one lone hand line around. The diving
birds and leaping fish changes his mind, things look really good. There is
tons of bait in the water, birds are getting fat before our eyes.
Unfortunately my aku jig looks nothing like the aholehole that are leaping
out in front of the mahi. We soon give up, but I am happier for having
tried; someday, but today is not the day. We are heading for the pyramids
but Roger is too far Diamond Head and anchors on the ships. I am over with
the anchor as the wind is wild. The anchor is amidships on the mauka side
with the line rubbing on the gunwale. It takes awhile for me to get the
mess moved off to stern. There is a Diamond Head current and I head up
current between the boats. I come across an octopus and note the location
to let Nils capture it (he has been chomping at the idea). I see the
bubbles of the descending divers and drift back towards them. Roger checks
the anchor and heads off, I want to just give a hint to the pig headed
teen, but I now can't find the octopus and when I do I point it out. Nils
debates going off to find his own, but gives in and goes after his first
big hunt. We have talked about the general nature of octopus being a bit
obtuse (Roger says they think like women and do whatever it is they think
you don't want them to do). The trick is to shove them into the back of
their hole. Well Nils's first touch brings the instant recoil as the
octopus immediately grabs on. He decides to use a stone to shove against
the enemy. I sit back to enjoy what I know to be a great show. The hole
turns out to be larger and deeper than one would think and as Nils's elbow
passes out of view, I am ready to give up and I head off to look for fish.
Nils will wise up soon. I swim past the bow to the little point in the
ledge, there is a small papio, but he is not interested in me. I would
work my way up to the next point, but I am hesitant to leave Nils, he may
get lost... venture off down current... I needn't have worried; as it
turns out he was firmly embroiled in a who could be more pig headed
contest. He is exactly as I left him, except his arm is now a little
further along. I am about to tell him to give it up, when I see the
unrolling tentacle moving up his arm. The octopus is on its way out. A
second arm unfolds along the other side of his arm and over his shoulder.
Hmmm, pretty good size. I wonder if I expressed upon him how strong they
are, how they go right for your regulator and you have to know when to let
go. The octopus emerges on the backside of his arm, and I realize that
he doesn't really have it. I make a lunge, but it is too late and the
bugger is off and swimming down current with the two of us in hot pursuit.
It dives under a large hole filled ledge and I warn Nils about potential
eels. We swim back up to retrieve our guns and return heavily armed. The
octopus is moving out of our reach and deep into a hole. I nudge in my gun
and loosen part of a large weird egg mass from its cave. While I am
looking at it close up, Nils notices that a rock is beginning to grow and
slide away. In a fit of "I'll show you" he spears it with the end of his
spear. Here, I will interject the dangers of teaching anything besides
yourself a lesson. My experience has been that no matter the situation,
the lesson learned is often not the intended lesson at all. Beware.
Well the octopus did not seem to mind body piercing and moved down
the spear and got stuck on the body of a spear gun. Two tentacles firmly
glued down the length of the gun. Two or three tentacles with a firm grip
on Nils's arm, and two embracing his face, exploring his regulator and
creeping under his mask. All in all, if I didn't have the responsibility
thing, it would have been funnier than it already was. Nils was working on
one leg at a time with his only free hand. I felt obliged to get involved
and pulled his face clear and we wrestled the octopus into a bag. Nils
was bursting with the sweet wine of success. He is even proud at all the
hocus along his arm. (I was laughing myself silly over the hocus all over
his cheeks. I can't wait to see him look in a mirror.) 28 minutes have
elapsed and Nils is low on air. We head up as Roger reappears empty
handed. He has seen nothing but kahala. He admires the catch, and laughs
at the hocus. We decompress and I really begin to freeze. I need to swim
around to stay warm on these dives. The current is too strong to enjoy the
plankton. We just hang on the line and shiver.
We pull anchor and head home listening to an excited strutting
bull regale us with tales of his wit, cunning, strength, and bravery.
There is no question who the hero is today! He is ready to take up
subsistence living... I am ready for taco poke...
dive 92
Refresher course; Diving rules update for those who fall in a rut and
begin to take things for granted.
1. Never say things like "we might as well go further... I mean the
ocean can't get any worse."
2. Avoid making predictions of slack currents.
3. Do NOT open your mouth when people are telling shark stories and
say in a know-it-all voice: "Gentlemen, on a day like today, I think I
can guarantee that sharks will be the least of our problems."
General Life rule:
1. Be much more specific when brushing your teeth in the morning
and making wishes like: "I just wish someone would look at me and think:
'She sure looks good; what a nice piece of ass that is.' "
Dive report:
Saturday morning, Roger and Gerry invite me to go out to catch tropical
fish. We meet at the Prince William and look at the raging sea. Make the
usual only heroes and fools noises as we load the boat. Roger and Gerry
are discussing school politics and I get to be Captain. Sure glad I don't
have to steer home from Molokai today. The boat is handling it quite well.
We see another fish diver who dives alone and he is trying to pull his
anchor. As we come about to talk story and see if he needs help, we are
drenched by the sea. There is a better understanding now of how rough it
is and we realize what it will be like heading home. Roger (who is not sea
sick yet), makes a suggestion that we go down to the sewer pipe again as
there were so many fish there. I can't believe he even suggested it and I
question his state of mind, as it would add several miles to our journey.
This is when he made the "ocean can't really get worse" statement and
both Gerry and I thought that certainly was true. HA! Luckily, I am
wallowing the boat around while we discuss this and Roger's stomach knocks
some sense into us and we choose to go somewhere close. The depth
recorder seems to have no power and a temper tantrum ensues as I try to
work on it under, let's say marginal conditions. Finally one of us
accidentally hits the tone button and we realize that it is working fine,
just with no brightness, Roger is slightly sheepish. If you can't throw a
really good tantrum among friends where are you? We toss the anchor and as
the boat comes around, we get another wake up call on sea conditions. I
crawl around, get my gear and slink over the side as quickly as possible.
The water is super clear as I struggle toward the anchor, I debate
surfacing and correcting my current predictions, but we certainly have seen
worse. Besides, it makes the net set decision a lot easier. I mean it
takes five minutes to choose the perfect flavor at Baskin Robbins and here
every minute counts. It will be a Kaunakakai ice cream store. "You want
ice cream? We have vanilla." Still forty feet off the bottom I know where
we are, dove here before, lots of nasos, diving with Roger and Peggy.
Well, there are still tons of fish and I am doing really well. The biggest
problem is the hoards of stick fish constantly attacking my net from the
wrong side. I am right by the anchor and never see any sign of the
"professionals." I am thinking about heading up so I can get back in the
water before those bozos finish their second dive. I know Roger is not
going to wait around on the surface today. I have all my gear together
when my morning wish is answered... a nice piece of ass takes on a whole new
meaning. This cosmic humor thing gets you every time. Sandbar sharks only
get to eight feet by law, so he must not be bigger than that. (Pushing his
legal limit here). Well he sure is fat! Maybe she is a super pregnant
female with morning sickness, not interested in anything like food.
Drifting down toward what I hope are other divers, I come across a dead
stick fish... Great, Roger teaching something a lesson again... well there
goes the not hungry idea. How does a shark get this big and fat? I do not
think that one measly pretzel is going to do the trick. The shark is
totally unconcerned at my presence and is in no hurry to leave the area.
Looking for more snacks. I act equally unconcerned and head up, back to
the boat. I re-rig, and am debating some surface interval as I only have
4 minutes of bottom time. The boat is rather on the wet side, not a
constant splash of the Mo'o iki underway, more like the "my face is almost
dry splash" that fills the boat with water every forty seconds or so.
Well, five minutes on the bottom is better than this. I have no buckets
and am not excited at fishing alone. I see bubbles and join Roger, Gerry
and the new guy just as Roger and Gerry decide to head up. I have a
chance to do a size comparison and eight feet is a minimum, maybe it is
some other kind of shark, the dorsal isn't real large could be a
galapagos, but it does have the white horizontal bar that the sandbars
have. I hang around decompressing as the shark stays right under us and
makes great entertainment. There is a little pilot fish and it seems to
surf the bow wake of the shark, or perhaps just hanging out in the blind
spot. I surface in order to still have a usable tank. Who said the ocean
couldn't get worse? The sea is just pure froth, a layer of spray that is at
least five feet three inches is keeping me from feeling too dry. The boat
is impossible to move around on and stuff either falls, rolls or blows on
your feet constantly. Roger comes up, recognizes the "it can't get worse"
mistake right away. We console ourselves with the seaworthiness of our
craft. Roger is ready for home. Gerry and I feebly try the 'it can't get
much worse' but a good Captain knows the difference between a hero and a
fool and we head home. The power cat does its stuff and wet, bouncy and
disheveled, we run with the engines at 3,300. Not too many boats could do
that. Our return finds white caps in the harbor, it is still too wet to
remove a wetsuit. No more major events except rescuing some Navy guys out
for a fun sail on a blustery day. They had engine failure just leaving
their slip and quick as a wink found themselves across the harbor. Blown on
to the sand bar. We sure made them happy, as there were not too many other
water craft about. We tied up, happy to be on dry land, the salt spray
turns to sand, dirt and pebbles! At least there is still paint on my car.
I am even happier to be back in my nice snuggley cave. I love grading
labs, I promise never to venture out again. HA!
dive 93
Labs all day, class looks like some sort of tornado hit it. The tornado
went through a corn and lima bean farm first. Off to get Nils, Roger is up
for a dive. I hem and haw not wanting to put undo pressure on him. He
looks me in the eye and says "You mean you don't want to go?" We meet at
the boat and plan an early dive at the pyramids. It is still windy and
those birds are still there. There is a beautiful rainbow over Manoa
valley. My latest theory is pretty anti-rainbow, I first noticed that I
have been seeing them on pretty bad days. (O.K., so every day is pretty
bad, but don't confuse me with facts.) Everyone knows that rainbows are
just giant buckets of luck and the amount of luck in the world is finite
right? If one person finds a $100, someone else is in a bad mood. So
where are these rainbows getting their luck from huh? Ever think about
that? I notice that sometimes they get brighter just while I am
watching... big mistake!! I quickly look away from the luck sucker and
concentrate on the diving birds. It is a big pile of aku birds and even
though Roger is refusing to head for them, they are right outside the ships.
There are big fish jumping. He gives in, but two boats beat us to them
and we see the action stop before I have put out much line. We abandon the
project and get ready to anchor. Mark Lidell is anchored on the ships,
hopefully they have chased all the fish our way. We anchor and I jump in
to set the anchor. The small uku are beneath me, and they are heading off
as I see the cloud of sand from the anchor. I set the anchor, turn, shoot
and miss. My shaft is laying in the sand and a half circle of white weke
immediately start walking their barbels in the sand. A perfect line up of
fish faces. They are so cute I stop to enjoy them and slowly drag my shaft
along the bottom. The band leader to a troop of marchers. I notice the uku
are still around and figure I really should reload if I want to pretend to
be an ukukiller. Roger comes down the line, and heads off towards the bend
in the ledge on the Diamond Head side. I hear his gun and figure he has
got an uku, they usually hang over there. I decide against the spirals as
there was only that one papio last time. I head shoreward to see what new
junk is laying around inside. I see lots of opelu kala inside and move in
their direction. Roger is in the distance moving parallel. He has no
fish, must have missed the uku as well. I search the opelu kala for a
misfit, there, way off, the motion of a fish coming straight toward me. It
is pretty much just a line with an ulua wiggle. It is so thin, it must be
a kagami, but all I get is the idea of a tail powering it toward me. I
absolutely cannot hold my breath any longer and I try to slowly ease the
air out hoping it is quiet. The fish is unfazed and continues the bee
line. I realize that I am going to get a shot at the same time I realize
it is a big fish. Good shot, now what? I swim up the line, get to the
fish, the first touch sends it off again and I am glad the line wasn't
wrapped around me in any way (something else to think about). I get to
the fish again and see Roger on the way to aid me. I manage to get the
fish just as help gets there. Wow, these fish are strong, why don't we use
them for propulsion? Getting the thing in the bag is another task, it
doesn't really fit, and tries to swim off with the bag pulling Roger. We
manage, go retrieve our guns and I see some larger uku swimming around in
the blood soaked sea. Roger doesn't see them and wants me to get busy and
reload so we can get back to the boat (this thirds rule again). We are
soon decompressing, me hugging my fish and watching plankton. A perfect
coral banded shrimp floats by, it is time for him to quit acting like
larvae. I rarely see larvae that I actually recognize down to the species
level, this was an easy call. Fully formed and still floating. We surface
and the sun is still high, the birds are active again, but Mark has just
pulled his anchor and is going to go try to catch something with his hand
line! We head back to shore, Roger is just as excited as I am, like a
proud teacher. I show off to Travis and Rene. I regret putting the
fish in the trunk, because now I can't show it to the people in the cars
next to me at stop lights. A police car pulls in astern, and I debate being
drunk, so he will pull me over and I can explain my excitement... you know,
SHOW him my fish. Too late, he is gone. I need to stop and buy film. I
imagine how many non-film stores I can walk into and ask about film,
explaining how I have just shot a magnificent fish, hinting that it is in
the car. I decide on my local 7-11, being an addict does put me on first
name basis with the employees. Well, just my luck, two new recruits, and
the manager is in the back. I am wrapped in a towel, shivering and buying
film, but they take no notice at all. Another typical customer, no clothes
left, going through withdrawals. Well, the cat at home will be awe struck!
(Especially since his real owner has had him on a diet.) Nils uses up the
film on me, the fish and the sunset. I make points with all the neighbors,
making sure to give the biggest piece to the guys with the hot tub. (I
backed into his Lexus last month, he wasn't impressed with the ole "that's
what bumpers are for" line.)
Fresh fish for dinner. Superb. If Brian had tasted this fish, he
would be buying two guns from Joe. Well, it is late at night, the city is
sleeping, and I still want to brag. Well there is always a dive report,
someone might read it. If you have read this far, read it and weep,
because little Miss Herkes has shot the fish of the year. Top that!
dive 94
Good Friday, show up at the Mo'o and hope someone else shows up. Figure
on maybe Mac, or Tomas... they have more sense. Brian shows and brings
his girlfriend Christie. We load up the Mo'o iki and head out in search of
big fish. We have all of Waikiki to ourselves. Hoping to find the hole,
but my rainy day marks are pretty questionable. The wind has been blowing
so hard for so long, that the swells have some good size to them. Christie
is on the wet side and is just getting drenched. We are taking on waves
over the bow, the boat is ankle deep in water and conditions are as
marginal as they could be. Of course we are all making cheerful jokes to
convince ourselves we not afraid for our lives! Well I should say that
Brian and I are making jokes, Christie is keeping to tentative giggles. I
approach from inside (just in case). The marks are not good, wish I knew
what Dick's blue roof does... oh well, we are close, circle around toss
the anchor and hope for the best. We are over the side like rats leaving a
sinking ship. By the time I reach the anchor line, I know where we
are... good work Snerk, anchor's on the mark. We all head down and I see
my spotted Nenue hanging inside like a menpachi. I will get him later.
There is no current and conditions underwater are a lot nicer, the water
even feels warm. I swim around along the ledge, but see nothing of
interest. Back at the rock, I stop to bother a flounder, love watching
their skin. He is not into my antics, (I think he recognized me) and he
swims up about 4 feet off the bottom and swims away, not bothering to land
on the bottom while he is still in sight. Wow talk about over reacting!
The kahala gang comes by, 6 or 7 big guys and one so-so. Well at least
Christie will get to see her big fish. I figure that things are slow and
head to the inside ledge. I come to the heniochus cloud, and see uku out in
the sand. I drop call, no luck. The little white tip swims by and heads
toward the hole. Well another good thing for Brian and Christie to check
out. No sign of uku so I turn to head in. Let me rephrase, no sign of
uku 'in front' of me, three buggers are on my tail wondering what we are
trying to call in. We manage to reenact my great hunt, and this time one
uku comes in. The small one of course. I fire and miss, just scratching
his dorsal, he high tails it while his buddies check out the spear shaft.
They are such worthy opponents, that I have to laugh. We shake hands at
the end of the game, and I turn my tail homeward as my time is up. Then I
see the tight ball of silver fish near the bottom and inside... well I
still have plenty of air. They are not opelu as I first thought, but
kawela 'ai in a tight bundle. They are swimming almost with full body
contact. Very unfish like, I am ready for whatever is feeding on them,
but nothing appears. The fish spread out a little and I feel that I scared
off their predator. The ball is spectacular and I wish Brian and Christie
could see this. I am a ways from the hole and chances are slim. My meter
has told me that I should be on my way so I high speed back to the anchor,
all the fish get excited at my charge and I feel like a child with 500
pigeons in the piazza. Just for the fun of seeing waves of reaction.
No sign of anyone, but I am the late one. I set the anchor on
the other side of the hole, forget about my spotted dinner and head up the
line. The others are getting in the boat and that is about the only
entertainment while decompressing. I can watch the churning sea above and
know that I have the best spot. Another coral banded shrimp floats by.
This is probably some sort of big year for them. I was hoping for a big
tuna year and I am going to find coral banded shrimp on every rock! I
surface and don't even stop to enjoy the sunset sky. It could be that
whipping wind, water in my face, has effected my capacity to enjoy nature.
Just so you get the right idea here, Christie elects to leave her mask on.
(I am going to like this girl, not only beautiful, but smart too!) Brian
yanks up the anchor and we surf home. It is always a good day when you get
back alive. We convince ourselves that we had fun and that it was much
better than being snuggled up warm somewhere. I will call Oklahoma
tomorrow just to get my perspective back.
dive 95
Saturday afternoon, still a bit windy, (howling) meet Roger, Mac down at
the Prince William. There are now two pretty red flags flying, probably
for Easter or something. We wonder if we are being foolish as we haul our
gear out to the boat. Roger has new scrubbers with him. Time to clean
the hulls, yahoo. Nothing like getting wet and cold before we get out
there. I grab a scrubber just as Dr. Tribble shows up, so not only am I
swimming in Keehi Lagoon water, scrubbing toxic paint and causing small
shrimp to find a new place to dwell (like my ears for instance), but now I
am being tortured from above by an ever playful puppy dog. I think about
hitting him with snorkel water, but I really don't like to get blue paint
shrimp water too close to my mouth. I take the abuse, knowing that as
perfect as his new boat is (he is super excited, as is Roger), it too will
get dirty hulls. We get the job done and since we are all cold and wet
(except Dick), we no longer have any qualms about the marginal sea. We
head out for hole-in-the-wall. Roger puts us on the spot and Dick is
over to set the anchor. It is too rough to sit around and the rest of us
are soon in the water. There is a lot of scope and I can see the ledge
beneath me. The water is full of plankton and is murky to the bottom.
Moorish idols feeding on the top of one of the tables are the first things
to come into view. They each are circling in their own little area and the
effect is of some sort of synchronized swimming extravaganza. Good
conditions; a slight ewa current, fish everywhere and low visibility. I
see Dick so surrounded by opelu kala, that I thought he had shot
something already. False alarm, he is empty handed. Roger and Mac are
soon in the vicinity as well, and I figure I will cross over to the hole in
the wall and leave them to explore the Diamond Head side. There are small
uku and papio mixed in with the opelu kala. I am hoping for something more
MY size. The sand channel is swarming with white weke, as I approach,
part of the school leaves the sand and swims by me. It is like looking up
at falling sleet. Having passed me, they then return to their sand
feeding. The whole picture must look like I am a big bump, squirming my
way under the weke carpet. I get to the hole in the wall, it is covered
with weke as well, I call and check out the uku spot. Weke everywhere. I
check the trap, look for lobster and head back across the sea of weke.
This time there are opelu kala above and I see Roger in full point. He
shoots at one of the opelu kala that turns into a small papio. He promises
me the fish as I look for his brothers. I am too cold to stay in any one
place, and head off to another uku area. It means leaving the land marks
and using some dead reckoning. I am proud and relieved to find the spot in
the murk. Alas no fish, back down current until I am back on the ledge
that will lead me to the anchor. There is Roger on another chase, I hear
his gun and see some larger papio in the opelu kala, Roger has an opelu
kala on the end of his spear. I am not sure if that was the fish he
intended on hitting. I leave him to it. My dead reckoning powers being so
reliable, I decide to wander around on the inside rocks, I have gotten
lobster twice on a rock pretty far inside. I find a few of the rocks, but
not the one I am looking for. My powers are only good in one direction.
The anchor eludes me on my return but I finally find some familiar
territory and retrace my kicks to the anchor. Dick appears out of the
fog and we free the anchor and head up. He didn't see anything but the
small fish also. About 15 feet up the line, some large uku have the
audacity to swim right under us, I drop, but they don't turn and I am soon
ascending again. We know Roger is in the boat getting seasick so after
five minutes we surface. Roger has added a small uku to his collection.
He said the larger ones came in when he shot the one, and I should have
hung around instead of heading off. Dick has tales of some weird
artificial reef made out of a large cylinder with holes cut in the sides of
it. 3 foot diameter and about 15 feet long. Holes cut into it to reveal a
baffled interior. Something new to look for. Roger waits for no one as we
quickly get under way and once again the Price William does what it was
built for as we blast home under fierce conditions. It is windy and cold
and everyone is thinking or talking about Dick's boat and how nice and
warm it would be. Hey, Dick, do you have a name yet?? (You don't have
to tell it.)
dive 96
Wed. afternoon, anyone can plainly see that the wind is dropping...
Roger, Dick and myself take off for a Waikiki foray. Roger suggests
"Jennifer's secret kagami spot", (he can be gracious) and Dick is up for
that idea. The seas are much improved from last weeks little boat
adventures. Since there is not buckets of cold water being thrown in our
faces, we actually can converse; the subject of the day is ukus, and of
course, Dick's new boat. He is surfing the net for boat accessories!!
We anchor inside the pyramids and since Roger and Dick are both heading
off to check the anchor, I turn out towards the pyramids in hope of an uku.
They are about the size of my shaka sign and skittish to boot. I decide
to make a "Snerk gets lost dive" out of it and head inside to explore for
new things that might be added to the collection. I solo searched the
great desert stopping at familiar man made objects to visit old friends.
No fish, a few small mu (I have actually speared this one man, one meal
size, but I still have plenty KAGAMI in the freezer.) I don't find
everything I know to be around, but do manage to get back to the big chain
pile. It is much easier to fly VFR when there is no crosswind, especially
when puddle jumping the great plains. I can see Dick near by, he has no
fish and I head back out to the ledge and over to the ships, a small weke
ula is seen but no shot taken. I have been swimming non stop and covered a
lot of ground. The perspective is different when you have been jogging
around the park, instead of sitting in it. I head back to the anchor
thinking I should have lain on my back and made careful study of the opelu
overhead. The others are swimming toward the anchor at the same time. I
stop to pick up a bat star for school. (He is now named Hoku, and his
little symbiotic shrimp are named itty and bitty... he spent the last day
doing starfish aerobics in the form of righting him self when turned upside
down.) Check the anchor, which has been freed. Decompressing is a lot
warmer when you have been on the move. Dick tells of one big goat fish
and a fair sized uku inside, and the group of five small guys out at the
pyramids. Roger tells almost the same story and has nothing either. Well
my little bat star makes me the hero (once again) and we come up to a brisk
evening and a lovely sunset. Hope to get out tomorrow.
Hey Mike, in da fust place, how come you neva wen call wen you stay coming?
an den wayah my Fiji info stay?
Hey Rich, are you back from New Guinea yet?? Do I get to dive vicariously?
dive 97
Friday afternoon rolls around, the wind is better and we are ready for
adventure. Gas up the Mo'o and head out! Roger, Dick, Joe, Brian and
myself. We head for Kahala, Joe wonders if we found the barge he sunk a
couple months back, promises to get the numbers so we can find it. We
decide on the cement z ledge. The conversation revolves around how to fill
tanks and listening to Joe and Brian carry on about being ladyless. Sounds
like the sweethearts have been gone for months, turns out they left port
yesterday. (Hard to sympathize, but I surprisingly manage to keep my mouth
shut.) The Mo'o purrs along and we are soon on the marks. Dick and Joe
are over with the anchor and by the time I tie off the boat, Brian is
ready and gone. Roger and I watch him and note that there is a Diamond
Head current. I am next, the water is fairly clear, the current is
swimmable and the anchor is in the perfect spot. I don't want to head down
current, so I head for the swail where Nils and I were surrounded by uku.
No uku, lots of mu. The mu look close enough to tempt me. They are good
sized. I begin the campaign and the only one that comes close is the great
grandaddy mu who comes in range. Why did it have to be the really big
one??? What about all those good size ones just near by? I hesitate in
hopes of another fish and loose my chance. Soon Dick appears on the
other side of the swail, he is the reason the mu are leaving. He probably
thinks he is helping me, chasing them my way or some stupid thing like
that. I decide to move down current away from his intrusion into my space.
The opelu kala zoom by and I realize that Roger is equidistant on the
other side. I will never see anything! I give in and abandon the ledge.
I head up current for the tires to see how far I get. I swim along at a
good clip still pouting about why I have to be the one to leave? Entering
the ethereal world of tires and pipes I forget my troubles. The area is
mine alone and I weave around in a directionless pattern enjoying the
sharp turns into unseen territory. Pretending to be a snake in a junkyard.
I come across an unsuspecting eel, a perfect candidate for the clothes pin
on the tail experiment. Unfortunately (this is arguable) Nils and I never
actually put the clothes pins in our gear bags as planned. I am having a
great time but am in the outfield, time to head for home plate. The swim
back is going to fly, a down current slide. I short cut into the sand and
try swimming watching the ground beneath me for a new visual sensation.
This is akin to watching the ground beneath the tires while biking down a
hill, you run into the most interesting things. Sure enough three big weke
ula explode into existence in front of my face. I am not ready but they
have to move away to get in front of the gun, I take a shot and miss. I
look up to find myself near the anchor, I can hear breathing and look to see
who saw me miss. No longer is my last shot a GIANT KAGAMI, it is back to
miss Herkes in less than a thought. The noble creature who escaped doubles
back to let me know it is just for fun, (and it sure is fun). The bubbles
turn out to be Joe and Brian. (Yes, bubbles.) They are overhead beeping their
way back to the anchor line. I never saw Joe get ready and he has a spear
as well as a full goodie bag. That bugger!! It is just a pole spear too,
this isn't fun, this is humiliation! He probably has a big mu and will
innocently ask : "Say, is this any good to eat?" I still have air and time
so I plan to return to my original spot. There is a trail of gills and
fish parts. Well, someone has been here. See Roger in full point, well if
I circle around and come at him from the other side, I will chase the fish
right to him. I am not really intruding, I am helping. I hear his gun and
figure it is now fair to head over, he is putting a small uku away to add
to his two opelu kala. He is excited about a lot of big uku, he points out
the area but is low on air. I look, debate staying for awhile, but I know
the anchor is a problem and opt for joining Roger. If I head up early, I
will be sure to know that Dick is behind me and leave the anchor
unhooking to him. The anchor wont be easy to free as it is bound to be
pulled into a whole pile of concrete z's. Luck is with me and I run into
Dick, he has a large weke ula but is on the make for uku. I tell him
about the anchor he gives me a maybe sign. What the hell is that? Maybe I
will get the anchor?? Now I have to wait at the anchor for his arrival. No
way do I want to come back down later, nor do I want to be the one who gets
to carry it over the top of the pile, unhooking it over and over. Well Dr.
Maybe is making to hit the anchor line about 30' off the bottom when I
reinform him of my plan. He is grumpy about the whole ordeal, nothing to
do with not getting the uku, mostly just because I did it on purpose.
(Never mind what, moot point.) We decompress with no chit chat, just
watching the waves and hanging on the line. Surface to find that Gearman
didn't really have a fish, just more gear. The spear, he found (Roger is
claiming he lost it... has anyone ever found anything that wasn't really
Roger's first?). They had gone up current and outside and found the new
barge. Being the true hero and eagle scout that he is, the barge is now
nicely marked on the surface with a large deployed float. The young bucks
pull the anchor and we head off to rescue the marker and to take marks for
the next time. The float rescue is a smooth operation with the captain
sidling up while each of the four of us all leaning as far as possible
over the side get to quickly touch the magic marker before it gets sucked
under the boat and all four of us run to the other side, only the actual
owner goes the extra inch (too far) and pulls off the rescue along with an
extra salt water rinse. We are happy to have a new place to explore,
Roger and Dick both saw large uku and are certain that they are being
created in the center of that new spot!! Fishermen are the same the world
over. The Mo'o takes us home in the dark, the stars are getting closer to
summer as Bootes is high already. The evening is pleasant and the banter
cheerful, rinse gear, catch the fireworks. Good dive, wet hair, great
friends, marinating KAGAMI waiting for the grill, extra diet coke, the
radio in my car works, another perfect Friday evening.
dive 98
Saturday morning, Roger and Gerry are planning to catch fish and they
invite me along. I could use some new fish in the class and a day at sea.
12 full tanks, a following sea and we can do no wrong. We head down past
garbage can lid, the water is clear as mud and we circle around and toss
the anchor on a nice wave. I know they will do two tanks to my one if we
get in at the same time, so I jump in while they get all their equipment
ready. I sink like gold through the gloom and vaguely wonder if I might
have the wrong net. Well it was tucked in my hand net so it must be mine,
I have become so weak from not working out. I hear the anchor and there is
a current so I have a good swim before anything else. Square away the
anchor and decide to work up current in case it gets worse. It is fairly
murky (can't see s---), but I can make out a spiny lobster, no two, three,
ok at least fifteen. No bag, plus they are all over the place and by the
time I got one there would only be one. I debate setting the net around
them, but I still have no bag and I did have the one swim out through my
scoop net once. I try to take note of location and swim somewhere else, get
them later. I set the net, whoops, wrong net. I am in major big trouble,
thank goodness for lobsters. If I don't find them again, they will think I
made it up! Now to see if I can locate the those pros, they will be
hopping mad at having my net. The most obvious place should be down
current of the boat. Yes, there they are chasing 10,000 fish hoping they
will hit a wee little square of a net, I join the drive and make sure
Roger does catch one so he wont be too mad. I quickly signal that there
are hundreds of lobsters (which there seems to be as I came across four
more separate ones on my search for them.) I get my net but fish with them
as there are a lot of fish and they will do better with my help. We end
the dive having seen a couple more lobsters and ignored them. Gerry and I
surface and plan our lobster attack, we figure half dive on fishing and
half dive on bugs. Roger surfaces in a fury, you can hear him yelling out
of his regulator before his head is actually out of the water. Seems the
free flowing decomp regulator, the mask that kept leaking and squiggling
fish in a strong current, caused him to loose the needle. Of course it is
the only one. One problem at a time, I look at his mask, the rubber has
worn through on each side of the nose like the heals of five year old
rubber slippers. We have an extra, one down. The regulator leaks, but we
have a spare, needle is a problem, finally Roger does dig one out of the
rust in the bottom of a tool box. Getting the rust out of the tube is no
easy task. Infinite patience, and Snerk ingenuity save the day and by the
time Roger has the fish dealt with, we are back in business. Of course we
all had to listen to how if it wasn't for the rest of us, (wives in
particular, and one uncle who makes you waste two hours at Chucky Cheese)
he would have the needed time for proper maintainence and preparedness. I
figure to fish with them the second time because I don't want to miss out
on the lobster chase extravaganza. Gerry is always good around lobsters,
he gets the glaze over his eyes and becomes a demon, but with the added
determination of lust, he often looses common sense. (The inverse
proportions of these traits should be studied) We descend into a
different world, there is no current and after the first ten feet, the
water becomes clear and Roger suddenly sees the antennae beneath us. A big
female, but we are in lobster mode now, Roger and I are designated
catchers and Gerry (must have learned from past, or perhaps saw the twinkle
in my eye, has opted for bag man). With clear water and no current things
have gotten smaller and closer. We find the gang and Roger takes no time
to plan, just goes for one. All lobsters scatter, I finally get my Easter
egg hunt! And let me tell you, it is a LOT more fun when the eggs switch
hiding places while you aren't looking! The ocean is alive with squeaking
and creaking. My second male gets away and cleverly dashes into Rogers
waiting hands. A perfect pass. We have six, we come across another bunch
of five, but they are all too small. Two bags full, and we start fishing,
we do great but Gerry and Roger are out of air. I am stuck with the big
net still set, three hand nets full of fish, a bucket, and one lobster bag.
(the last item is my own doing as I thought that there still are those
other four I had seen. By the time I have everything in order, I am into
decomp. (Here is diving logic for you.) Well, since I have to decompress
anyway, I might as well spend some time looking around... Luckily I find
nothing as I make my way and have plenty of time to decompress as Roger
deals with the fish. They plan their next dive at 50' and I figure to sit
it out as we are short of air. (we always bring 12 tanks and dammed if I
ever get more than two or three... hmmm, I had better pay attention when we
divvy up the bugs.) I have a diet coke and play with my dive computer and
sun bathe; such the princess! They have a junk dive but Roger does report
he saw some harlequin shrimp (didn't think of getting them for me). We
then do our last dive close to the Pearl channel in about 35'. I am on my
own at last but I am frustrated by fish that are too stupid to figure out
my clever net sets. One yellow tail wrasse was particularly dumb and still
didn't get what he was supposed to do after I gave him three chances! The
stick fish brigade that showed up as soon as I got wet suggest they are
familiar with tropical fish divers. I had five of them in my net before I
could even start a drive. They faithfully followed me every where even
when I kept bopping them on their flat heads. You would think three good
bops would make you want to find lunch elsewhere, nope, just makes them
more sure the meal is going to be really good. I guess they are more human
than I gave them credit for. The dive gets worse when I hear the anchor
call. I had found it in a knot, and having no close spots, set it on an
idea of a ridge. I wasn't too worried because there is no ledge, however
there is coral so I head over and fix it. I see the other guys in the
distance, then the shadow passes over... to slow to be an airplane (which I
for a long time thought were sharks that swam so fast you never saw them),
I look up like checking a mouse trap, not wanting to know yet having to
look. There above me, twelve feet, mouth open, a gorgeous manta feeding
like mad. There are also opelu in a massive feeding frenzy, in the midday
sun they are a new years sparkler at midnight. I stand on the bottom
holding my net and buckets and watch. There is a second manta and they
are taking turns passing through the opelu. A large baraccuda is on the
outside trying to still his way into the opelu unnoticed. They avoid him
with out ever showing it and the whole picture captivates me for the rest
of the dive. Roger bangs on his tank and signals they are going up, he can
see me doing nothing and wonders if I am OK. I don't know if my excited
manta sign makes him feel more or less worried, but he is out of air
regardless. He has knocked me out of my trance and I hook off my fish,
dump my gear on board and go play in the game. The opelu let me get right
in (I guess I am less threatening than a baraccuda) . I am in a ball of
shredded tin foil, each piece gulping like mad at invisible treats. The
mantas are still taking turn circling through, but don't let me closer than
5 feet or so. I have never seen them feed by daylight and it is fun to
have them do more than swim by. Roger and Gerry decline my invitation,
work work work... they must be getting paid! I practice being a manta, I
need expanding webs for my wetsuit. The new hero, manta woman! O.K. I
know I am weird, but I am splashing around in the ocean and I do have
lobster for dinner!
dive 99
Sunday morning up at the crack of dawn to catch a dive with the heavy
hitters. Brian gets usurped by his job while Joe and Dick show up for
what will now be a regular dive. The wind is down and the ocean is
inviting. We head out for Ewa, Joe finally has the nerve to ask personal
questions that have been puzzling him. (So now he is twice as confused!)
We analize everyone and solve no problems, I brag about lobsters as we try
to find either Menehune Wall, or Rogers Ahi spot. We split the difference
and anchor. Dick and Joe make noises about feeding the fish and I figure
on heading away from them! The water is thick and murky, but at about 15
feet, it gets clear and I can see bottom. There is a ledge remnant and a
tell-tale block that tells me I need to head Diamond Head. I head off
towards the spot. I am soon in familiar territory, I always see sharks at
this spot. No fish, just shark city, well I soon come across a beautiful
giant angel fish, some kind of imperial or circling one, certainly not from
here. I don't know if it is found near by and might have arrived by barge,
or is from the Atlantic and was a definite "let go" from someone's tank.
It is pretty far from shore and it is a big fish, not a cheap or common
one. It is super cute, I figure I will show it to Dick because he
probably knows where it is found. I head back to find Dick and Joe. As
if my very own shark thoughts have the power to produce the goods, the man
appears. It turns into a hammer head. I am pretty far from the anchor and
I don't know how far from the nearest other diver, but the shark moves on.
Shortly followed by an all too curious papio. I shoot the papio and am
very happy to see Dick coming up the ledge. I signal shark and ask him
to keep an eye out. We get the fish put away and I take him to show him my
really cute angel. As we get closer to the spot Dick gets more excited
about the opelu kala, the darting opelu and the look of murky action. That
combined with my fish, makes him very disinterested in my super cute find.
He thought I was going to show him papio or something. He is off to look
for game with only a nod at my really sweet fish. Well, his behavior
leads me to believe that he had no clue where we were at the anchor and
probably spent some time in the desert. I figure I should go tell Joe
about the shark and bring him over to the spot. I head back to the anchor
(fourth trip). I don't know why I think that Joe will be sitting at the
anchor taking his tanks on and off, but he is not there... well it has been
25 minutes, perhaps he has gone up, actually he could be anywhere as we had
no plan at all. I head back up the ledge (fifth trip), this is getting to
be a bit repetitive, I think about heading to my inside spot, but I don't
want to run into any more sharks. I figure that by now the sharks have
figured out my normal patrol pattern and are avoiding the Snerk runway.
Back to my angel fish, boy is he cute. I find a cool little rock which I
bang the junk off of it to clean it up. I am looking at how nice I have
made it, when I realize that I have called over two more papio. They have
finished checking me out and bug out before I get a shot off. Well, time
to head back (trip six). I am hanging on the line, hoping Joe is in the
boat when Dick shows empty handed. He saw a different shark, (shark
city). Joe is up, having spent most of the dive trying to figure out where
he was and where he had been. I think Dick led him astray, then doubled
back to the spot. Joe, ever cheerful, pulls the anchor. He is new to the
power cat and as he stands on the bow, I wait to see if he is going in or
the anchor is coming out. (You can never tell with that guy!) The engines
fire right up, and Captain Dick takes us home at good speed, thinking
about his future boat, comparing features. Planning his day at Kilgo's
and West Marine etc... I am happy to have yet another dinner from the
bountiful sea. Neptune has glassed down to a whispering wind and gentle
rolling sea. We watch the Navy doing some man overboard procedures with
a giant boat. (It is nice to have a translator along, they sure looked
lost!) I am sitting on the box, half listening to boat experts, looking
at the sunshine spots reflected on the water as the waves rise to the
boat. Not bad, vow not to complain for the rest of the day (that one
didn't last long). Back to school tomorrow!
dive 100
Long day in the trenches. Having committed what now is an obvious error of
using both the words Homo and Erectus in the same lecture. I am
definitely ready for some salt water "cleansing". Roger is a diver and we
meet at the Mo'o at about 5:40. Roger is hot on the Kagami spot, so we
anchor inside the pyramids. We enter the water in synch and each drift our
own way. The water is murky and when I set the anchor, there is no sign of
Roger. The anchor is near the ledge, and I head inside to the chain pile.
Fish come from every where to meet me, I am reminded of the finches in my
class. Someone is definitely feeding these guys and who ever it is, has
something in common with myself. I am surrounded by opelu kala,
butterflies, and humus. There are some small weke ula, small mu and a small
kumu. The kumu is at the real tasty size, perfect for the pole spear, but
it is hiding inside some artifacts. The hordes of fish give up on me and
vanish back to their usual distant outlines. It is cold enough that I
choose to keep swimming, and head off to the pyramids. As I approach, I
hear Roger shoot and arrive to see him reloading. No fish. He tells me of
uku at about the same time as they show up. I call them over and miss.
Three come in on my shaft in the sand when Roger sneaks up and fires at
one. He just nicks the fish and we are both empty handed. Our shafts
laying crossed in the sand, with uku all over the top of them. We reload
and Roger takes off. The uku return and I swim along the bottom watching
them approach. I miss again!! Now I just sit in the sand and freeze. I
am surrounded by friendly weke but I see nothing to shoot at. I head back
to the ledge and do not take note of which pyramid I left from. The ledge
all looks the same in the murk, and I am not sure if the anchor is Ewa or
Diamond Head. I figure to travel up current until I reach the anchor or
the ships. I eventually see some potters I know and turn around, as I am
on my way to the ships. I am searching through the menu but see no hearty
eater items. A smallish mu is ever friendly, but I figure to be nice and
harmless so he can tell his buddies what a great gal I am. I am searching
for the anchor and find myself with no bottom time and no clue. I know it
is around here somewhere. I am zig zagging along in search of anything
like a land mark. I finally see a pile of bricks, and know I am close, it
is a nice relief to be able to climb up a familiar rope. Decompressing in
the middle of the murk is always unnerving, especially with no reference
points and a current. Roger is on the line with an uku and an uhu in his
bag. It is even better to see a familiar face after swimming around in a
fog. He tells of a big uku he saw, and three others he shot at before
getting the one. He also got an uhu for someone that I know. (I have no
clue). He then tells of looking for the anchor, getting lost, scared and
swimming around mid water with his heart pounding in search of the boat.
Either it is pretty murky, or we are two lost souls (the truth is in
between). We surface, the sun has gone behind some clouds and we head for
home. It is always nice to go diving, and I am thankful for the stolen
opportunity, and even more thankful for the uku that Roger gives me. Fresh
sashimi for dinner... life looks up.
