Saturday, March 10, 2012

Friday March 2 - Alki at night: Diving with seals again

It was Friday morning and I woke up cold.  I took my truck since I was going diving with Katie in the evening at Alki, but that didn't help with warming me up, I was still cold.  I wore my coat all day and all I could think about was going diving and being in the warm water.  5PM finally arrived and I took off for West Seattle through the maze of the waterfront traffic on my way to the West Seattle Bridge.  Katie was already getting ready when I arrived and in between sentences I got my gear together.  I was going to leave my camera in the car since I still get nervous diving at night but Katie was teasing me that I'd see all kinds of cool stuff and I'd miss the shots.  She was right and so were my instincts, we saw lots of cool stuff and I should have left my camera in the car. 

Ratfish (the only picture I took worth showing)
We got into the water and as I reached around to check my computer an intense pain shot through the back of my hand, which was now part of the reason why I couldn't get my pictures as I couldn't move my light into the proper position.  Down we went and I immediately realized I once again hadn't done my neck seal right so all night I was fighting my buoyancy.  I finally fixed it in the last 25 feet of the dive after I soaked myself from top to bottom with a slow leak of water creeping through my undergarments.

Diving that night was unnerving, but not for the reasons I mentioned above.  A week ago another diver died in the area and thoughts of that tragedy slowly crept through my mind, I felt helpless to stop them.  Every time we looked under a metal panel or over a rock I expected to see lifeless eyes staring back from behind a mask.  This was not to be the case and the sleek spotted black and grey form of a seal went flying by at 55 feet.  Seals again.  They glided past with their long whiskers and dog like faces effortlessly gliding through the water, following our lights to the fish and creating a cloud of silt along the way.

At one point Katie stopped on the bottom and kept pointing with her light at a dark spot on the sand so I would take a picture.  Okay, I don't see anything interesting.  She pointed again and I still couldn't figure out what it was.  Finally she took her finger and poked the sand so that the Stubby Squid would swim up off the bottom.  The silt kicked up so Katie moved the little guy above the silt, he swam around with his stubby tentacles and flapping appendages reminding me of gossamer wings beating in a gentle breeze.  I never did get myself situated to get a picture worth showing.

On the way back to our safety stop thoughts of the diver that died once again clouded my conscience, but this time they reminded me it was good to be alive and to dive with the seals another day.
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1 comment:

  1. DIVElikeAgirlMarch 10, 2012 at 10:40 AM

    Nice description of the stubby squid, I tried explaining the opalescence as it undulated to the little one ~ I wish a photo had come out. I may have to look into video to capture the feel.

    I went again on Monday. The erie feeling was gone. Seals again, only this time a juvenile (other than me) was in the mix. She was suspicious, eyeing me the whole time she twisted in vertically for a bite. Unlike her older relatives, who, seem like old friends now - slowing to wait for me, calm, dark eyes.

    The octopus den that had only eggs now has a guardian. She is so big Bruce, she nearly spills out both sides of the den. You'll have to come back while she's still vibrant.

    Spring is in the water column, several sets of ling eggs. Had a very friendly ratfish attempt to snuggle, greenlings darting around like they owned the place. We trespassed unapologetically, giggling at their pluck.

    Anastasia and I flipped face up and descended to the sand to gaze at the moon. (Our safety stop protocol =) The seals swam up beside and stopped, beckoning us to continue to play. We, of course, did.

    I thought of Cove II as a mediocre dive before I moved to this side, and sometimes it is. But some nights? It's magical.

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