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September 8, 2004 - Wednesday

 The One Where The Surfer Crapped His Wetsuit

We closed out Zoe’s summer vacation with a trip to the beach today. We went to Leo Carillo Beach, where the plan was that Zoe and Beth would spend the day soaking up the sun on the beach while I split off for an hour or so to meet a scuba-buddy for a quick one-tank dive. So much for plans…

We got to the beach okay and got everything set up, and then I went off to meet scuba-buddy Scott and go shore diving. What should have been about an hour’s activity for me turned into something like 2.5 hours, with Beth and Zoe stranded until I came back with the car and starting to wonder if I was coming back.

The problem was that we staked out our beach spot at a different cove than the one Scott and I were diving from. So I took the car and went off to meet Scott. Then when I found him, I couldn’t park near the beach we were diving from because a film crew had taken over the closest parking lot. So I spent probably 20 minutes finding a spot, then probably another 20 getting geared up in the parking lot — wetsuit, 20 lb. weight belt, BCD with another 8 lbs. in it, 40 lb. air tank, fins, mask, etc — and then walking about 100 yards in 85 degree heat with all this gear just to get to the water’s edge. There, I collapsed for about five minutes to catch my breath, and Scott and I finally started diving.

We were down for 59 minutes with a max depth of 32 feet. We saw lots of cool stuff: guitarfish, cabezon, scorpionfish, lemon nudibranch, treefish, garibaldi, and thousands of purple sea urchins. There were so many of these sea urchins and we were getting pushed around so much by the surge that I was afraid I was going to come home wearing a couple dozen of them. I did get stabbed in the knee by one at one point, but fortunately none of the spines broke off. That would have been an all-night type ouchie.

My favorite part of the dive was at the end of it. We headed straight out from shore on the way out, and followed the reverse course to come back when we hit the halfway point on our air. When we got back to kinda sorta where we started, we didn’t know exactly where we were, so we decided to surface and take a peek around. Well, we surfaced in the surf zone, right next to a surfer who was sitting on his board and waiting for the next set to come in. We scared the holy crap out of him, I thought he was going to jump straight up in the air and run to shore Jesus-style. We got our bearings, gave him a wave, and dropped back down to 20 feet again. It was kind of cool knowing there were people surfing right over us as we kicked our way back along the bottom.

Back on the beach, Scott and I said our goodbyes and I hiked the 100 yards back to the car and called Beth to let her know that A) I hadn’t drowned yet, and B) I was on my way back to get her and Zoe. That led to my least favorite part of the dive: the silent treatment I got on the drive home. I don’t blame her for being upset, I’m just saying it wasn’t fun.

But… I got to go diving, so that’s a good thing. But next time we make a “family” outing to the beach, I’m leaving the scuba gear at home.


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