As I mentioned in my previous post, dive conditions for about the past month have been sketchy, and the March weather a little weird – it’s been colder than normal for March and we’ve had a few storms roll in and ruin the visibility.

Now, it’s April, and it’s time for my traditional Easter dive!

Weather could not have been better – a warm 72 degrees in the morning with the ocean as flat as a lake.

I was suppose to meet Holly, a fairly new, Sunday services only diver – neither of us thought that many people would show up.

After all, it’s Easter and some people have families and lives.

How wrong we were – half the parking lot was filled with divers; maybe 15 to 25 in all.

What was worse, Chipper was there – whenever we are in the same ocean at the same time, conditions have always sucked.

Most divers went off the Point; Holy and I went off the Cove.

This was Holly’s 40th dive – for some reason, a diver’s 40th is a special number.

You’ve been smart enough – or mentored wisely enough – to survive 40 dives, so you can really be called a regular diver.

We made an easy entrance and swam to the rocky finger outside of Pigeon Shit Cave before submerging.

Logged SCUBA Dive #405

Dove with Holly

120 Reef, Terranea Resort, Rancho Palos Verdes, CA

In With: 3000 psi
Out With: 1600 psi
Max depth: 43 feet
Waves: Flat, I mean REALLY flat
Visibility: Eight to 15 feet
Water Temperature: 52 degrees
Air Temperature: 72 degrees
Total Bottom Time: 32 minutes

The water was extremely cold – well, at least cold for Southern California, and the visibility was as good as 15 feet in some places.

I had my underwater camera with me – unfortunately, I really didn’t take any footage that I really liked.

It was sort of dark and in some places a little silty.

We came across something really strange, but my pictures didn’t turn out.

It looked like a really skinny black starfish with a hole going through the middle; I will try and find a picture of a similar one to post later.

We toured the reefs for about 25 minutes.

I was getting cold, but we both had 2,000 psi left in our tanks – Holly motioned to me, I signaled that I was cold and she agreed.

We started back, heading over the sand.

Almost running into the bottom of the rocky finger, I corrected course and broke the surface almost where we entered.

We made an easy exit.

The “Chipper plus PSD equals crappy conditions” jinx is over!

To get Holy in better condition to handle the macho walk, I let her carry all her gear by herself.

Liquid debriefing followed – there were some really hot looking chicks there.

The group photo.

Until next time!

Happy Easter everyone!

Weather, scheduling conflicts and other issues have kept me off the traditional Zodiac lobster attack machine, and I have given up on serious lobster hunting from shore dives.

When I was invited on Chipper’s boat to liberate lobsters in a new, and still secret, location, I could not refuse.

We met at the public launch ramp in the middle of a Los Angeles ghetto.

Immediately when I arrived, bum and poaching drama was already underway.

Some drunken bums had gotten into a fight and one was lying on the ground, unconscious, while his friends were yelling at him not to get up.

Thirty feet from that episode, an extremely hot DFG Officer who looked like Danica Patrick, was writing some fisherman a ticket; while the alleged poacher was yelling, “Just how big are these fucking fish suppose to be?”

We launched the boat with little drama, and after a quick emergency dart back to the ramp to put the drain plug in, we were off.

Logged SCUBA Dive #404

SoCal Buddy Diving With Chipper and Reverend Al

Secret Location: 4f 66 66 20 74 68 65 20 77 61 6c 6c 20 74 68 61 74 20 62 72 65 61 6b 73 20 77 61 74 65 72 20 61 74 20 74 68 65 20 6d 61 72 69 6e 61 20 6f 66 20 74 68 65 20 6b 69 6e 67 20 65 6e 20 65 73 70 61 6e 6f 6c 2e

In With: 3000 psi
Out With: 500 psi
Max depth: 36 feet
Waves: A little choppy
Visibility: Six feet
Water Temperature: 55 degrees
Air Temperature: 69 degrees
Total Bottom Time: 35 minutes

I was the first one off the boat – we were to dive in shifts, always leaving someone on the boat – this is the ghetto, and not even boats are safe.

I descended and checked the anchor – the anchor was just dragging on the sand – I believe the anchor chain was too short.

Initial visibility sucked – I mean sucked so badly I was going to call the dive in the first five minutes.

Then, I ran across a bed of muscles and a short lobster – OK, there’s lobster!

I kept going, and within the next ten minutes, I had caught six bugs – and, these were the easiest bugs to catch, too.

They didn’t act spooked like the one off of Palos Verdes; I simply shined my light on them and they froze until I grabbed them.

A lobster’s life is so horrid, they can’t wait to get liberated.

I spent the next 25 minutes looking for my seventh to limit – easy, right?

Nope – seriously, I thought I would have had my limit within 10 minutes, but either I took the last six legal bugs, or word had gotten out, and those that wanted to live stayed home.

I made it back to the boat with no issues – Reverend Al had gotten skunked on his first dive, so he went back for a second one.

Chipper then made his dive; I stayed on the boat.

As self punishment for not limiting, I decided not to do a second dive for just one lobster.

I had to move the boat away from the rocks a couple of times – the anchor wasn’t holding it.

Reverend Al made it back and we ended up picking Chipper up when he surfaced about half a mile away.

I hold my catch for the night, while Chipper looks on in amazement.

The Reverend and Chipper both went home with one lobster each.

The highlight of my night was going to be to get hassled by that hot DFG Officer that looks like Danica Patrick, but two male officers obliged in her place.

Disrespectful hunters left lobster carapaces rotting on the pavement – it was dark, so my photo didn’t come out, but there was a garbage can five feet away from this.

To add to that “This is the ghetto” flavor, the public restrooms double as low income housing…

How can someone sleep on a concrete floor, covered in urine, in a room that smells like a sewer?

Needless to say, this was an interesting night.

Thanks Chipper!