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Archive for August, 2009
The Israeli shore town of Kiryat Yam is boasting one of the most interesting oceanic phenomenon to be seen in a long time: a mermaid. Local officials have proposed a $1 million reward to the first person to take a picture of her, a tempting offer that has given a shot in the arm to the area’s tourism. Though I love the mermaid legends, including siren songs, narwhal theories and the occasional cup of Starbuck’s coffee, I can’t help but be skeptical of this particular sighting. Here are a few “facts” about the case and my initial reactions:
• It’s been described as “a young girl.” But then really, who wants to come to the shore to see a half-naked old man.
• It only appears at sunset. At that time, light reflecting off the waves in odd angles can help the creative bystander see almost anything they want. Put my childhood Chihuahua in the water at that time of day, and he would look like a mermaid also.
• The mermaid performs acrobatic tricks before it disappears. The creature reveals itself to humans in order to demonstrate its stupid pet tricks prowess?
• Capturing the mermaid is not necessary to claim the $1 million reward. I.e. please do not leave stinky fish on the steps of the tourism board building.
Though I’m not so sure this story will end with a new species being logged, I do hope that it has a happy ending that includes a boost to a local economy and a renewed interest in what might just lie beneath the waves.
Due to an upcoming Caribbean dive drip, I’ve been keeping on eye on weather.com to determine if the Hurricane Gods plan on spoiling my travel plans. Two and a half months into the Atlantic hurricane season, and (knock on wood) not so much as a cloud fart has occurred there. Four hurricanes and three tropical storms have already graced the Pacific, though. That dark blue piece of water saw Andres, Blanca, Carlos, Delores, Enrique, Felicia, and now Guillermo come through, making me think Ms. Sotomayor was sitting behind the desk of a weather station somewhere, picking the monikers. Knowing that Justice Sonia probably has a few more pressing things on her plate, I decided to find out just how the storms got named.
Storm naming evolved from the communication advancements and general nosiness of the twentieth century. With the potential for multiple storms happening simultaneously around the globe, it is much easier to use a commonly-understood name rather than spout off location coordinates like a Bingo announcer on a Friday night. While country-specific groups, like our own National Hurricane Center, originally chose the names, the christening job is now owned and managed by the World Meteorological Organization (three men with pocket protectors and raincoats.) The names are re-used on a rotating basis, but sometimes they do get retired. So, sadly, if you are a Fifi, Hattie, Beulah, Klaus, or Hortense, you will never again see your name associated with a raging storm. Here’s hoping Ana, the first name set to be used in the 2009 Atlantic hurricane season, doesn’t choose Labor Day to claim her five minutes of fame.
The folks at scubaherald got me thinking about the scuba fringe, the diving opportunities that take you from being a recreational diver to a complete scuba diving freak. While I admit my first thought is “That sounds cool! Let’s go now!” there is a small voice speaking from my sub-conscious that says “Are you a fool?” Whatever your perspective, you have to admit these pursuits take diving to a whole new level.
Heli-diving
“I’m in a perfectly working helicopter, but I am going to exchange my comfy seat for a long, unpleasant plunge into cold ocean waters. Oh, and I’m taking my scuba gear with me.” Dive operators in several places, including the Great Barrier Reef and Curacao, are offering this expedient pre-dive experience, redolent of Navy Seal and flying fish jokes. In exchange for some serious cash, you get several hours of training and enough adrenaline to fuel Manhattan’s electricity needs. For a year.
Cageless, baited Tiger Shark diving
It’s tough to stand out as a dive operator in South Africa, as once-in-a-lifetime diving opportunities can be found all along the coast. One particularly creative shop has found the answer. Go to the Tiger Shark ‘hood, chum the water, remove the cage, and pray that everyone on the dive boat returns with the appropriate number of arms and legs (attached). What I want to know is: how do the Great Whites know that the dinner bell is not for them?
Record-setting deep dives
Go past 120 feet, and you’ve left recreational diving depths. Add a few hundred feet more, and you’ll find zero light and few fish. Go a few hundred feet more, and you might just find a diver with a death wish trying to set a new depth record. The deepest sea dive to date is 330 meters set by Pascale Bernabe in 2005, but depth-aholics are constantly trying to beat the latest achievement. The record and not the dive itself seems to be what turns these extreme divers on: it took Bernabe ten minutes to descend to that depth and nine long, boring hours to come back up because of all of the decompression requirements.
Ice diving
In the middle of the Antarctic winter you need to bore a hole through six feet of ice before you can even access the water. That alone dissuades most people. The remaining determined individuals then need to contend with their Sahara-sized dry suit, a slush filled, disorienting entry and volumes of safety rope, as the hole is the only way in and out of the ocean (no, chipping away ice cubes with your dive knife will not work). But, once the trivial inconveniences are dispensed, diving the water under the ice is a thrilling opportunity, with over three hundred feet of visibility and a host of unique sea creatures to see (can you say orka?) It’s an extreme dive adventure not for the faint of heart, nerve, body temperature, or wallet.
A few years ago, a water bottle with which I had recently ended my relationship inadvertently flew off the back of the dive boat I was riding. Really, it leapt on its own into the deep blue, enabled by blustering winds and a captain with an itchy throttle finger. I had nothing to do with its untimely demise. In fact, I despise the “art” of ocean pollution, in all its unfortunate forms.
Only now do I know the fate of the suicidal water bottle. Apparently it has joined its ancestral kin in the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, a hundreds, or even thousands of square mile field of wavy waste in the middle of the ocean. Capture it in a big net and bury it in Middle America’s backyard, you say? No. This patch, though huge, is spread out, making cleanup (and even identification) troublesome. I look forward to the results of the Scripps Institution of Oceanography study on this unfortunate human contribution to the deep. Perhaps we will even learn to prevent this type of pollution in the future, or at least keep despondent dive boat trash at bay.
Author and periodic scuba-dive.org contributor KB on her misunderstood wetsuit:
KB in Palau in 85 degree water...with wetsuit
I’ve braved hungry sharks, roaring currents, and unidentifiable dive boat food. My dive buddy is known for pushing me in front of approaching predators with big teeth while he makes a quick getaway behind me. On the whole, I am a pretty adventurous diver, not easily intimidated underwater. But, I have never been able to conquer my fear of the great scuba diving beast: my wetsuit.
My concern falls into two categories: not having it on me and having it on me. First, similar to chocolate and my big brown dog, I need a wetsuit. Without it, no matter how similar the ocean temperature is to bath water, I get cold and then move to a shivering state faster than an octopus can strip a tasty clam. In a last ditch effort to warm up I will swim back and forth like a crazed tuna, a maneuver that has gotten me “rescued” several times by dive masters thinking I was out of my gourd.
Dive boat personnel frequently get a chuckle out of my space suit. “You don’t need that thing,” they say. “There are enough monsters in the sea already!” Easy there, buddy. I didn’t make fun of your mismatching shoes or bad taste in tequila. I know my limitations, especially when it comes to body temperature, so I schlep my 4mm suit with me to all dive locations no matter how small my suitcase needs to be. 1 pair of shorts, 2 shirts, 1 case of M&Ms, 1 wetsuit, and 2 weeks: no problem!
Which brings me to my second category of concern: the suits are, by design, tighter than NYC rush hour traffic. They usually have a zipper, put there like bait to lure the diver into thinking they actually have a chance at getting into the suit. I have heard that powder can sometimes enable the process, but no amount of talc could help me win this battle of The Bulge.
Once on, the neoprene acts like kryptonite for a diver’s positive self image of their body. It is so tight, one would think it acts like a girdle. But, no. Every hot fudge sundae and grilled cheese (with bacon) transgression is highlighted by the silhouette of the black suit against the white background of the inside of the boat. I’m pretty sure it was a very thin woman’s idea to paint it white in the first place. I try to overcome the inner tube effect by sucking it in until I realize there are some body parts that will not appear smaller no matter how much I deplete the atmosphere.
But then, the other divers on the boat put on their vests, specially crafted jackets that can be inflated with air for buoyancy. Suddenly we are all equal again, an army of strange sea life covered in lumpy gear shuffling towards the back of the boat in our fins. Splash! I’m in, floating towards the Technicolor reef below, my surface insecurities far behind me. Never have I felt, or looked, so good.
"And our friends are all aboard..."
This post will appear periodically, letting folks know the latest news of what divers are seeing under the waves across the globe. I look forward to hearing from you as you encounter the weird, the wonderful, and the downright odd. I will kick this recurring post off with a selection of interesting tidbits from aquariums from around the world.
Georgia Aquarium, USA
A giant squid has come to the Georgia Aquarium! OK, so it’s dead. And, it’s constant formaldehyde bath has reduced it to the consistency and appearance of firm tofu. Oh, and prior handling broke many of the tentacles, giving it the nickname “shorty.” So, turn around and watch the beluga exhibit behind it instead. That one really is fantastic.
Melbourne Aquarium, Australia
Penguin sex. King and Gentoo penguins getting it on. Need I say more?
Yokohama Hakkeijima Sea Paradise
Not just an aquarium, but an entire sea paradise. Located at the tip of Yokohama Bay, this unique destination combines an aquarium with a sea-themed amusement park. Just like diving from a boat, you can get seasick on the rides then go see the aquatic wonders.
Two Oceans Aquarium, South Africa
The United Nations declared last year the International Year of the Frog. Don’t tell me you missed it! Now people can get that frog feeling all the time with an enormous permanent exhibit dedicated to our amphibious ancestors. The website lists one of the compelling reasons to visit the exhibit as “Frogs with personalities!” How could you say no?
New England Aquarium, USA
I guarantee that no where else in the world can you find the collection of sea creatures as specific and specialized as this aquarium’s Gulf of Maine exhibit. Highlights include blue and white lobsters, which turn into American flags when you drop them into a stock pot.
Oceanographic Museum & Aquarium, Monaco
In 1910, Prince Albert I cleaned out his garage and put all of his old nautical stuff in this building, including excellent examples of why fish should not be subject to the rigors of taxidermy. Forgo the entry fee and instead spend your time out front looking at what I believe is the most interesting thing related to the museum: a submarine used extensively by Jacques Cousteau. And, best of all, the thing is bright yellow. (I kid you not.) “In the town, where I was born…”
Countless entries have been made on worldwide scuba blogs recounting the amazing tale of the Nomura’s Jellyfish invading Japanese fishing grounds as we speak. Though I find the animal fascinating, I loathe the thought of beating the proverbial “dead jellyfish” with yet another post regurgitating the obvious. Instead, I acknowledge the phenomenon with this simple haiku:
Aquatic wonder
Giant sumo jelly beasts
Beware, fatal sting
Bahama's Wreck
Now that Florida has finally gotten around to sinking the Vandenburg, their planned string of successful artificial reefs is complete. Recently I ran across an article discussing the cleanup of a failed 1970’s attempt at creating an artificial reef using that little known reef building material, used tires. I began to wonder: is all this artificial reef creation good, or are we just rationalizing our practice of throwing junk into the sea?
The available information base on artificial reefs is almost endless. But, from what I can tell, people claim four main purposes for artificial reefs:
Financial
a. “Dismantling my old boat will cost too much. Instead, I will throw it in the ocean and pretend not to notice when it sinks.”
b. “I have no reef, but I hear it generates income. Let’s get one!”
Environmental
a. “That hurricane/cruise liner/glowing green factory goo destroyed my reef. Help!”
b. “My shorefront property just became a houseboat. Where did my beach go?”
Sport
a. “Cool, dude! I need gnarly wave action for surfing.”
b. “Cool, divemaster! I need great reef action for diving.”
Accidental
a. “Oops, iceberg.”
b. “Well, that landing strip was shorter than I thought.”
And, from what I can tell, artificial reefs are made of a few different materials:
1. Manmade stuff – Wrecks, train cars, airplanes, cars, dump trucks, and the occasional toaster
2. Reef promoting materials – Rocks, odd manufactured products like reef balls
3. All else –Items placed for a purpose other than promoting reef growth, such as bulwarks and Hoffa
I now realize that the question of artificial reefs being good or bad is not straightforward. The success of the reef seems to be a combination of both the purpose and the material.
Some examples:
#1
Purpose: Mobile Bay homeowners desire Environmental shoreline protection
Materials: “All Else” flat bulwarks that actually dissuaded marine growth
Result: Got our beach back, but ruined the fish population
#2
Purpose: Surfer Dudes at Pratte’s Reef in El Segundo need waves
Materials: Reef promoting rocks
Result: The rock promptly sank into the sea floor leaving flat water and a large bill
#3
Purpose: Aruba had an extra airplane all dressed up but nowhere to fly
Materials: 60 ft long YS-11 previously owned by Air Aruba
Result: Promising evidence of coral and fish “Movin’ On Up”
So now I realize I can’t pass judgment on artificial reefs as a whole, but need to measure success individually. For every tire cleanup story there is a successful artificial reef just waiting for fish and divers to come and play.
Carl
My name is Carcharodon carcharias, the Great White Shark, but my friends call me Carl. I’m a recovering seal-aholic. It’s a ten step program involving less cuter food sources. The point is, I’m much more civilized that you make me out to be; we sharks are really misunderstood! I enjoy long moonlit swims and fin nipping just like any other aquatic romantic. Yeah, there was that one unfortunate incident with that surfer a few years back. But, he didn’t even taste good and I spit him out right away. Hey, we all make mistakes.
This week the Discovery Channel is running Shark Week, seven days of sensational shark shows filled with ferocity, attacks, and lots of close up teeth action (they always seem to pick the sharks that don’t floss – their mouths are way scarier.) I hear that the network is also pleading for reef conservation and appreciation of us beauties, but is this positive message getting lost among the carnage? Or, is depicting our “active” lifestyle the only way to attract viewers so that the conservation message can be delivered? Hey, we at the reef appreciate all this publicity, but keep in mind we’re not bloodthirsty monsters, but reasonable fish just looking for a snack (I personally get light-headed at the site of blood, I haven’t donated in years). Why can’t we all get along?
Shark Week link: http://dsc.discovery.com/convergence/sharkweek/sharkweek.html
When I meet a fellow diver there is always that spark of shared enthusiasm. We trade stories about our most recent dive, the best dive trip we ever took, and the coolest thing we’ve seen underwater. The conversation builds until we are almost interrupting each other as we gush about everything scuba. Just as much as I love the sport itself, I love the interaction with other divers who are passionate about it, whether they dive once a year or one hundred times a year.
And so, I’ve created this blog as a place to share my enthusiasm with others, and invite others to do the same. You are critical to the process. Comments and questions are always welcome and posts (or suggestions for posts) can be sent to me at kb@scuba-dive.org. Consider this spark ignited.
So, where are you diving today?