Logged SCUBA Dive #327

Secret Location: 4e 6f 72 74 68 20 6f 66 20 74 68 65 20 74 68 72 65 65 20 6c 6f 6c 6c 69 70 6f 70 20 74 72 65 65 73 20 6e 65 61 72 20 74 68 65 20 67 61 74 65 73 20 6f 66 20 4d 61 72 2e
Palos Verdes, CA

Solo Diving/SoCal Buddy Diving

In With: 2700 psi
Out With: 300 psi
Max depth: 60 feet
Waves: Minor swell chop
Visibility: 15 feet+
Temperature: 52 degrees
Total Bottom Time: About 25 minutes

After a jinxed attempt at lobster hunting last Tuesday, Instructor John and I tried it again – this time in a different location!

The ride out in the zodiac was fairly flat; a DFG boat had pulled over a private boat entering the harbor as we were leaving.

We anchored in 60 feet of water and both of us descended around 7:45 PM.

I headed towards shore, hoping to liberate some lobsters in shallower waters.

Micro lobsters covered the rocks along with some shorts.

Visibility was pretty damn good – 15 feet or more and very clear; there was a slight underwater surge.

My secondary light went out, but I continued with my primary light.

About 10 minutes into the dive I was at 45 feet and wondered if I was going to get skunked – I hadn’t seen any lobsters worth grabbing for, and even the small ones were sparse.

My light waved passed a large bug, I moved my light to the side and my frozen hand of liberation made the pounce!

The lobster shot backwards and I ended up tearing off one of its antennas; I chased it, and in the process, I came across an even bigger lobster that I pinned against the ocean floor and bagged.

It was like grabbing a can of motor oil – no need to measure that one!

Five feet away, I spotted the original lobster – or at least another lobster that only had one antennae.

That lobster had no fight left in it and practically crawled into my bag.

Both these monsters were caught in 45 feet of water.

At 1500 psi, I turned around and headed back towards the zodiac.

In 50 feet of water, I pinned three more lobsters, but only one was legal, and just by a few millimeters.

I slowly surfaced with 500 psi of air, fairly close to the boat before submerging again to swim at 10 feet under the kelp to reach the faithful zodiac.

Instructor John followed a few minutes later.

John’s catch of the night was three lobsters; he went deep at first, to 70 feet, but didn’t see any so he went shallow and caught his stash at 45 to 50 feet.

Do I look macho holding my lobsters, or what?

My share of the gas was $15, so $5 per bug sure the hell beats the retail market price that would probably be close to $100.

The ride back was cold and choppy as the wind was picking up.

With a little more than two months to go in the season, I’m going to try and get out at least once a week.

With news that lobsters are being caught shallow, in about 50 feet, Instructor John and I set out on the faithful zodiac to liberate more bugs from their watery hell that they call life.

Before heading to King Harbor, I stopped by the Red Cross to donate enough blood to buy this year’s fishing license, ocean enhancement stamp and lobster report card – $58!

The weather was clear and the ocean was fairly calm with only very minor chop.

We anchored in 40 feet of water off of a secret location (near the end of Hawthorne Blvd.) in Palos Verdes when strange anomalies started taking place.

It was around 8 PM and it was dark, only one other boat was spotted in the distance – probably another group of lobster divers.

The running and signal lights in the zodiac suddenly shut off without explanation.

“It’s probably just some corrosion on the battery cables,” John said.

We worked for 20 minutes trying to get the lights on; there is no way we were going to leave the zodiac blacked out while we dove.

John finally said, “Go ahead and dive; if I can’t get the lights to turn on by the time you get back, it will be my turn and you can wait here with a flashlight.”

I geared up and turned my air on…

BANG! Psssssssssst!

My main high pressure regulator hose blew up!

My reserve regulator was on shore in my car to save space, but I had already checked my gear before loading it in to the boat.

I had my main regulator in for annual service three years ago and I know that hose was replaced – there’s no reason that that hose should have burst.

Luckily, it blew above water.

When a high pressure hose bursts, your tank empties very quickly and an emergency swimming ascent, alone, at night in thick kelp is something that nobody really should look forward to.

By the way, I ALWAYS dive with spare air as an emergency backup.

Was this a warning?

I said, “John go for it, I’ll DM your dive.”

“That’s OK, we’ll call the dive for tonight; I need to check these lights out,” John said.

The lights in the zodiac flickered back on!

John started the engine and pulled anchor.

We were off…

… for about 20 yards before the engine died.

We drifted around trying to get the engine to start… we had spark, we smelled gas, but the engine wouldn’t turn over.

It didn’t feel like the gas was pumping to the engine, so John removed the fuel line…

A good hard squeeze and out shot what looked like a piece of a lobster leg!

“This place is fucking haunted by some evil dead lobster spirit!” I yelled.

The engine started and we made a thankfully safe return to King Harbor.

Sometimes, nothing seems to go right on a SCUBA dive out of sheer coincidence; this is the first time I have felt as though something was telling us, “Hey assholes, leave us the fuck alone tonight!”