Tonight I went to Driftwood with one of my recently-arrived-in-town buddies. We suited up and got into the water. While setting up and making sure the camera was good to go, I noticed, and mentioned, that there were chunks of lion's mane jelly floating about us. I had a spot of spit still inside my mask, but decided the risk of jelly tentacles wasn't worth a second rinse. We got everything in order, stuck in regs and prepared to drop. Yes. Right after I stuck my reg in my mouth, it became crystal-clear that a crystal-clear tentacle of jellyfish had wrapped around the mouthpiece, and I had now placed this tentacle in contact with my lip, inside my lip, and it was coating my lower front gums. It didn't hurt THAT much, so we went ahead with the dive.
We got down to about 60 feet, and found that there was no current. At all. I was pretty boggled by this phenomenon, but it was fun to be able to cruise about as we wished, rather than be cruised as usual. There were octopi all over the place. We easily saw 18 or more different ones. My buddy shined his lights on two different ones, then while I was swimming to have a peek, I found a third.
By this point, my lip was starting to burn, badly. I kept pulling it down to let some cold water in to soothe it. I considered calling the dive, but figured that I was here already. Somewhere around this point is where I became aware that a tentacle had made its way inside my hood and was wrapped around my right ear. Great.
My buddy found the largest white-lined dirona that I've ever seen. It was while processing it that I discovered it apparently has a hitchhiker. Gross. Do dironas grow more feathers as they age or something?
My lip had responded a bit to the cold water I kept washing inside it, and my face had, for the most part, gone numb by the time I found this little fish. I *think* it's a gunnel of some sort, but it looks a little off, too.
Near the tire piles were several sleeping rockfish. Only they weren't sleeping. They would be still, then in a flurry, they would dart about and bite at each other, kicking up lots of silt while doing so. It was almost like watching a blender pulse, with that kind of activity; still, then action, then still. My buddy on the surface commented that he was nearly getting antsy, wondering exactly what was in the water around us to cause such odd behaviour.
I chuckled at an octopus huddled against the flat end of the jar. I'm not sure whether he was trying to get in and hide from us, or whether he was just chillin out back of his home, but I thought it was a cute scene.
After we ended the dive there was a fairly decent surf. I managed to make it out of the water before overbalancing and crashing to the ground. I was frustrated since my quickly-thawing face began to renew its protest of nematocysts, but I couldn't get my camera off me with my gloves on. I ended up dropping my weights and fins on the beach to stagger to the car, where I divested myself of camera, hood, and mask as quickly as possible. It was definately a scary experience, since I was feeling like I couldn't get a full breath with the hood on while being so distracted by my face. Luckily once the hood was gone, I felt much better. I whined and bitched and moaned and discovered several new spots where I had been stung. I certainly did not feel sorry for the jelly this starfish was snacking on. A very hot shower when I got home took most of the sting out, and I'm feeling better now, but this is an experience I don't really care to repeat again. Now, how to make sure I never get a tentacle wrapped in my reg again?
Thanks Karl for a good, octopus-filled dive. I'm glad you're home!
The student was ready.
it's nice to have low expectations, sometimes - lcf
I said keep going, not start whining -airsix
by Unknown
