We had a weird day diving yesterday. As a way of processing what happened, I need to write it down, so I hope you all don’t mind me posting it here.
2/10/08 – Redondo Beach
Yesterday, D-money and I met Bob Bailey for D’s drysuit certification class. After a talk at Bob’s house we headed down to Redondo Beach for his checkout dives. Pez was there waiting when we arrived, and some introductions and BSing ensued. As we were getting ready, D somehow managed to roll a tank onto his mask, smashing the strap hinge. Luckily, Bob had an extra mask. Once we were geared up, Pez and I went for a splash while D worked with Bob on his drysuit skills.
The tide was very low as Pez and I entered the water and surface swam out to the end of the research pier through some small 1’ swells kicked up by the wind. Dropping down, we found the viz to be pretty bad, maybe 5’ at most. We followed the ropes along through the various structures and small wrecks out to the VW. Not a lot of life visible, but a few dorids, a Grunt Sculpin, Gunnels, etc. The Ling was still at the old stove guarding the eggs, and the VW looked a lot different this time, with the roof caved in.
At a couple points during the dive, I somehow hooked my elbow into my octo hose and pulled it free from it’s holder. Pez was kind enough to replace it, but I definitely need to change that setup. I think I’m going to have it converted to the long hose rig that many folks here us.
We joked around during our surface interval, while Pez packed up and bid adieu. Bob, D, and I splashed for our second dive as the wind kicked up a little and the tides started to come back in. As we entered the shallows, somehow both of D’s fins popped off, which caused us to spend a few minutes performing a sloppy search and recovery in 4’ of murky water. Eventually both were recovered, and tightly secured to his feet.
We followed a similar path as Pez and I did earlier. D was struggling a bit with his buoyancy and also having a hard time with his trim, partly because of an ill-fitting weight belt that slid up and down his torso. A few times Bob had to wrangle D (and probably me) back into some semblance of a formation. It seemed that he may have been distracted by his task load, and wasn’t paying as close of attention as he should have to Bob and I. It was a bit of a bumpy dive, but generally ok. Trudging back to the car, D expressed his displeasure about his unfamiliarity and discomfort with some of the rental gear he was using. Namely the loose weight belt and the gloves that limited his dexterity.
During this next surface interval, it was Bob’s turn to pack up and bid farewell. D thanked him for his patience and instruction, and we are both looking forward to his AOW in April.
After an hour or so, we geared up for our third and final dive of the day. This is where the day got progressively weirder, where we both spaced out on aspects of our basic scuba training, where we scared the shit out of each other, and ultimately both learned valuable lessons.
Ever since I started diving in the PNW, I’ve really wanted to see an octopus. Big or little, I just craved an encounter. So for our third and final dive, I suggested we head to the south and find the bottle field where we could search out the small red octos that often hide there.
Basic scuba brainfart #1: Do your deepest dive first, not last. I just wasn’t thinking straight when I suggested this.
As we entered the water, I stressed to D that his job on this dive was to pay attention and always stay close to me, as well as concentrate on his buoyancy. We surface swam out and dropped at the end of the pier, just as Pez and I had done on our first dive. We followed the ropes straight down to the small wrecks, tire piles, and statues at about 80'. Then we headed south, zigzagging the slope until we found the bottles. We slowly worked our way along, inspecting the bottles and jars as we went. D looked a lot more comfortable with his gear and was dealing nicely with his errant weightbelt.
After 10 minutes or so, I finally saw my octo. A little tiny head was poking out of a bottle neck. As I got closer, it ducked inside. I motioned D over and gestured for him to look into the bottle, while I shined my light at the bottom of the bottle, illuminating the interior. As we watched, a little tentacle appeared from the bottle neck, and the little guy emerged and plopped out onto the sand. We hovered near it for a few minutes, watching it watch us while we snapped a few pics.
After about 5 minutes of octo watching, a gauge check revealed it was time to head back. My intent was to head back upslope to about 40’, then follow the rocky slope north to the pier and entry point. We started to follow this plan, then things went sideways.
A lot of what followed wasn’t clear to me at the time, but was explained after we exited the water.
As we began our way upslope, I was dawdling a bit looking for another octo. For some still unknown reason, D’s PSI dropped from about 1500 to 1000 pretty quickly. He signaled me that his pressure was low and that we needed to get going. I gave up my octo search and we continued upslope toward shallower water. 2-3 minutes later, he taps his gauge and motions me in “let’s hurry up toward the shore” kind of way. I didn’t understand the rush at the time, but it turns out that his pressure was dropping rapidly, almost down to 500 at that point. In hindsight, there was no obvious reason apparent, such as a freeflowing reg or other leak source.
Basic scuba brainfart #2: Your buddy is your alternate air source.
Basic scuba brainfart #3: A safe but direct ascent to the surface is best when running low on air.
D panicked when saw that his air was running low quickly. He charged quickly along up the slope towards shallower water and the shore, without looking back, staying 15’ or so ahead of me. I followed along trying to signal him and get his attention. My intent was to pass him my octo, calm him down, and begin a safe ascent directly to the surface. No luck.
Through the murk, I saw that we were coming up to the steel cables that hold the buoys in place just off of the boat ramp. From my last trip to Redondo, I knew that there was a web of old fishing line around those cables, and D was heading right into it. I was pulling out my knife as he hit the web, but thankfully he somehow managed to get through, breaking a few lines, and not getting ensnared.
He continued his mad dash up the slope, still without making eye contact with me. At about 25-30’, be began a direct ascent to the surface. I watched as he fumbled with his BC’s release valve, trying to control his ascent, which was a bit fast, but not quite cork-like. Afterwards he told me that he thought that somehow the BC malfunctioned and wouldn’t dump its air. I think him being flustered and his lack of dexterity with his gloves was a large part of the problem, since we couldn’t replicate the malfunction afterwards.
I made my ascent slowly and came up next to him. Wide-eyed he told me that he had completely run out of air, and showed me his gauge that read 0. He was freaked out, but otherwise ok. We held onto a piling until he calmed down, and then made the 50 yard surface swim to the boat ramp.
Back at the car, I pointed out what we should have done: shared air and made a safe ascent. He recognized immediately that he acted inappropriately and wasn’t thinking clearly at the time. We inspected his gear, putting it on my tank and checking for leaks, BC blockages or gauge malfunctions. We found nothing amiss.
We packed up our gear, and began our drive home to Portland, discussing what happened, what should have happened, and what we were going to do and practice more to prevent it from happening again.
But the weirdness wasn’t over yet.
Basic scuba brainfart #4: Learn the symptoms of DCI, and what to do if you are bent.
I’m going to spoil this story right now and say that no DCI hit was taken by either of us. But I sure managed to scare the hell out of both of us on the way home.
Two things were fuel to the fire in my thoughts as we started our drive home. The first is that I just finished reading Shadow Divers, and the second is that I had been researching DAN diving insurance, and exploring the coverages offered by both DAN and my health care provider.
As we drove home, in the back of my mind I was a little worried that our ascent was too fast, and that coupled with the exertion and the depth of our last dive, either of us might be at risk for a hit of DCI.
About an hour into our drive, we stopped for gas. I bought a bag of chips and some Gatorade to stave off my hunger until we got back to Portland.
No more than 10 minutes after eating the chips and downing most of the Gatorade, I began to feel a bit queasy. My vision started to blur and my paranoia kicked into overdrive, thinking my DCI fear was coming true. I managed to tell D that I wasn’t feeling well. My vision narrowed, I broke out into a cold sweat and nearly lapsed into unconsciousness. D repeatedly asked me how I was doing, but it wasn’t until he actually grabbed my shirt and shook me a bit was I able to answer.
I started to come to, and began explaining my fear that it might be DCI. I also said that we needed more info on what to do just in case. We decided to call Bob and ask his opinion. D told him the situation, and Bob explained that it didn’t sound like DCI, but that we should call DAN to confirm. After a bit of bungling and a second call to Bob, we got the number correct and got through to DAN. Again D explained the situation, they confirmed that my symptoms were not DCI, and also further described what to look for in case one should develop.
By the end of that call, I was feeling much better; very tired, but no longer queasy, sweaty or feeling like I was going to faint.
Well, if it wasn’t DCI, then what was it? Poisoned Fritos? Gatorade that had passed its shelf-life? That cranberry flaxseed muffin I ate that morning?
We’re still not 100% sure, but the general theory is this:
I had a hard week, not sleeping well a few nights. There’s also a flu bug that’s been passed around the office that might have gotten into me. I also hadn’t eaten much all day. The adrenaline that started pumping during D’s earlier escapade was also draining my reserves. So all in all, it seemed like my body telling me I was completely exhausted.
Boy, am I glad that D was driving and not me.
We got back to Portland and went straight for a dinner of Vietnamese pho, after which I felt much better, but still really worn out.
D dropped me off. I rinsed of my gear, then immediately went online and bought my DAN coverage. Today, I’m taking a sick day from work, resting, and learning more about DCI and how to recognize and handle a situation if it should arise.
D and I also have made a promise to each other that from now on, each time we dive together, we will review safety procedures and hand signals, and practice those skills as well.
So at the end of the day, many lessons were learned and we are both wiser for it. Nobody was seriously hurt, and we are both thankful for that.
And I got to see my first octo.
