I made it down to Long Point at about 8:30 AM; the initial report from the divers who were there was “conditions look green.”

I snuck to The Point to see if conditions there were any better than the Cove.

Foam covered the water, the Point was rough.

I told Reverend Al and his group that if they were going to go off the Point, I was going to bring my camera.

They opted for the Cove; I chose to stay dry and start debriefing early.

I walked down with my mini-cooler and sat on the rocks, drinking Cheladas, beer and watching the ocean.

The day was gloomy, the water had a few rough spots, but Al and his group made an uneventful entrance into the water.

Kayakers also launched from the cove.

Two spear fishermen from Lancaster drove all the way here to do some hunting; they were determined to dive no matter what.

They asked, “Which way did the other divers go?”

“Towards 120 reef,” I said.

“OK, we’ll go the other way.”

I guess they shoot at anything that’s big and moves?

They made a safe rock entrance…

…and swam out a ways, almost getting run over by a boat…

A B-17 flew overhead searching for Al Qaeda submarines off our coast.

Since most of our newer planes are overseas liberating other countries and keeping the world safe for democracy, the government needs to dust off the older planes for domestic use.

Al and his group made it back in with reports of six to eight feet visibility with a lot of silt; I’m glad I stayed dry today.

Here’s a better view of the foam on the water.

The foam apparently is some sort of microorganism that tends to ruin the visibility.

Nice and relaxed from my seaside meditation, I attended the diver debriefing in the parking lot.

By the way, do you know how to pronounce “Terranea” as in the Terranea Resort?

I always thought it was Terr-AYE-nee-ah.

Apparently, it is Terra-NAY-ah.

One of our topics of conversation was how crappy the conditions have been lately; even the East side of Catalina has been reporting 20-foot visibility when 50 is common.

The Kayakers made a safe return, followed by the spear fisherman who had empty hooks.

With lobster season now officially over, I can now take some time and try and make some money to buy new diving equipment.

Every single glove, wetsuit and boot that I have has holes in it.

So, it’s back up to the East Fork to become wealthy – and with Gold now around $1,000 a Troy ounce, all I would need is a teaspoonful of flakes to make my trip worthwhile.

I arrived in the parking lot at the end of the road at 7 AM.

I figured out how to pack my sluice, shovels, pick, pans, classifiers, cigars, lunch, beer and cleaning kit into one backpack.

I tried to recruit another person to come along, but nobody could make it – or didn’t want to come; I didn’t even consider “Mr. Know It All” from previous trips for today’s run – he’s totally out of shape and needs to rest every 100 yards for a “smoke and beer break.”

So, just like solo SCUBA diving, I went solo prospecting today.

I was fully prepared to use my martial arts abilities should anybody try and take my Gold.

I hiked for about 40 minutes up river and started to sample pan areas where the water slowed.

From what I have heard, the Gold here is very spotty; you can be working an area five feet away from someone who’s pulling out color, but end up with nothing.

I came across a huge rock in the middle of the ice cold river that looked like it had virgin gravel deposits on the down stream side.

I crossed the river in almost waist high water to get a sample.

I panned – and there were Gold flakes.

I went back and crossed with my equipment.

I packed my sandwiches a little too far below the water line – the turkey was still good, but the bread was soggy and ruined; I would have to get my lunch time carbs from my beer.

I set up my sluice box and unpacked the rest of my equipment.

Behind the big boulder is where I started to dig.

People wonder why prospectors dig behind the rock – on the opposite side of the water flow – but Gold is so heavy is collects where water slows.

The sun started to peak into the canyon.

This place is sort of desolate, so I didn’t have to worry about any chicks being offended by potential “plumber’s crack,” but I did look over my shoulder when I had to get rid of some used beer.

There was an abundance of river deposits behind that rock; I moved many buckets of heavy gravel in the four hours I was there.

It would have taken me hours to pan what my sluice box can do in a matter of minutes.

It’s cool to drink a beer, smoke a cigar and watch the heavier gravel (and hopefully Gold) get caught in the rifles as the lighter stuff flies out the end.

I ended up collecting three loads of sluice concentrate before panning it.

The most anyone can ever hope to collect here, from what I had heard, is flake and flour Gold; nuggets are very rare…

…and that’s what I got – a few flakes of Gold for four hours of digging.

Sort of sucks, but as I was hiking back I met two prospectors who had been working this area as a hobby for several years.

The best advice that both of them gave me was, “go to Sheep Mountain – it’s a six hour hike way past the Bridge To Nowhere.

“That place hasn’t been over worked like around here and they’re still finding nuggets.

“Plan on spending at least one night – and it gets cold up here at night.”

They gave me a few more really good pointers on how and where to find Gold here, but I’m getting tired of writing.

As the answer to the question, “Where do you find Gold?”

“Gold is where you find it.”