Having Technical Difficulties...

[disappearinjon]

So it's been a while since I've been in the water. Two months, if my logbook is to be believed. And it is.

I've got my excuses: my grandfather in New York is ill, and we missed Thanksgiving here to go see him. Then we bought a house. The company I work at was being bought by a larger competitor. Then were unpacking. Then it was really icky outside. We hadn't figured out the gear storage situation. And every week since we bought the house, we've had houseguests.

Including this week. But this week is different: the houseguests are my mother-in-law, and my aunt-by-marriage. And even my wife wants a break. And the call came in that, for my Grandfather, it's a matter of days now, and I should be ready to go to New York again soon.

And then, e-mail from a friend inviting us to dive this morning. Nothing fancy: Cove 2, 9 am.

Things didn't go right from the start: my computer's battery decided it was finished, so I was using my backup reg. (Console computer on that one.) My backup light, which I finally opened with a strap wrench, didn't work even after I changed the batteries. Visual inspection confirmed it had flooded.

And had I mentioned we'd moved a month ago? It must have taken an hour to find everything and get it together to get out the door. 9 am? Not quite. (But hey, 9:30's not bad, right? Diver Standard Time?)

We, and our buddies, took our time getting our gear together. At least one fin had troubles with the clip. (Not mine, I've got spring-straps.) We've got a plan: my wife will lead, we'll all follow. Finally, we're all in the water, and geared up, and we descend.

First problem: my wife's computer (different brand, different purchase date, different number of dives) also decides that its battery is dead. We ascend, decide we'll go on (and she'll just use tables), and re-descend. Second problem: buoyancy. Mine wasn't good, but it was better than my wife. (She pleads that she's adjusting to her barely-worn DUI suit, which she loves, but she keeps overcorrecting for floaty feet.) Our dive buddies, actually, had decent trim.

Still, we go on. My flashlight catches a strange reflection under a log. Could it be? An octo? What is it? It's brown, and smooth, and shiny... it's a bottle! I poke at it, trying to tell whether I'm seeing something more interesting inside of it, but I'm not. Oh well.

After 20 minutes, our wet-diving friends decide they're chilly, and we're done. Great: my wife will navigate us back. Only her compass is sticking: no matter which way she turns, North turns with her.

Still, at about 25 minutes we manage to get back in, more or less in the right place. I lose a fin when removing it, but find it again. We leave the water, decide against a second dive, and say goodbye to our friends?

How was the viz? Before us or after us? (Sorry, everyone else!!!)

Was it a bad dive day? Hardly. Actually, it was one of my best: I've been dry two months, stressed about work, about my dying grandfather. For almost thirty minutes, I focused on diving, on skills, on the sensation of being underwater. It was marvelous. I wasn't thinking about paint colors, furniture, family, work -- I was just being underwater, grumbling about the silt that we were all kicking up, seeing the fish and the shrimp and the nudibranchs.

(Also, it was dive #100. But who's counting?)

[Alexitt]

Congrats on #100 and condolences on all the rest... It's amazing what even a mediocre dive can do for ones attitude though isn't it...

[Dusty2]

Salt water is definitely an anti depressant and a tranquilizer combined. Not to mention a total addiction.

[LCF]

You nailed it, Dusty!

Glad you got into the water, Jon. And I'm sorry about your grandfather.