We lost our watches weeks ago and have learned to look at the angle of the sun to guess the time and we're getting pretty accurate. In fact we're following the lead of the sun in our daily routine -- eating breakfasts a little earlier than usual and lunches when the sun is approaching a 45 degree angle. Funny, but when when I was at work, I HAD to eat by noon or I'd get the green meanies.
It's only in port that we're scrambling to find a cell phone to find the exact time in order to meet friends or make a showtime. Ironically, I found myself looking to the ceiling of a museum in Baltimore yesterday to locate the sun to see if we could make the next planetarium show - we did (with no help from the ceiling). I was reminded of Thoreau's admonishment, "We do not ride upon the railroad, it rides upon us" and so it's nice to escape clocks and watches and schedules to ENJOY time - a completely free gift. We linger in bookstores, actually reading books, not just scanning the book jackets. We wait patiently in line at the grocery stores talking to locals who give us great advice of places to visit. Time has become a generous, forgiving enjoyable friend. I'm just hoping this friend follows us home...
A quick note about Baltimore: if you haven't been to Inner Harbor recently, do so now!! It's clean and friendly and safe and filled with beautiful people. Pat's wonderful nephew and wife and adorable baby met us at Jon Paul's for dinner - thanks for fitting us into your busy schedule! And as luck would have it, my colleagues, Liz & Don, were at a conference in Baltimore and we spent the evening with them racing cars, shooting baskets, playing ice hockey and wave riding at the ESPN Zone. What a blast! I guess the trains do run on the right tracks sometimes, Henry David!
Note: Cole, I need your phone/email so we can connect on our way back through!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
too much...............................from P
Sometimes there is just too much "excitement." These moments are rare but memorable. While anchored in Lecompte Bay off the Choptank River (beautiful spot, also the setting of Michener's novel "Chesapeake"), we heard a weather warning on the VHF radio. Of course, a VHF weather warning gets your attention but the odds of a storm cell on the bay hitting your location are pretty low. This time, we hit the odds. Over in the south I started seeing the horizon quickly turn black. Then the feel of the air changed and I knew we were in for it. Nothing we can do now but prepare. I tied everything down, let more rode out to give the anchor line more scope to hold better, dogged down the hatches, and by the time I was back down below the first gust hit. It hit so hard Senara heeled over 15 degrees or so and started swinging around the anchor. Then harder gusts. Wierd whistling sounds above. Then the lightning started flashing around. We know to stand in the middle of the salon away from the mast, not touching any metal. We shut down all electricity in the boat in order to kill any current which may be attractive to lightning. We tried not to think about the 55 foot metal pole sticking up in the air in the midst of a wide open cove. More hard gusts. Senara started spinning in a circle around the anchor. I started thinking about what I would do if the anchor tore loose and we started blowing toward the rocks. My thoughts were interrupted by a sound I had never heard on board, a tap-tap-tap then bang-bang. Hail! Uh-oh. Please don't let it get any bigger than it is. More, harder gusts. I looked out the companionway but I could only see two or three feet from the boat. This was a big one - it lasted over an hour and a half. Finally, after what seemed like all day, the wind dropped out, the hail stopped, and the rain dissipated to a drizzle. Thunder echoed in the north and I knew we were OK. After checking around, the dinghy cover had blown off (but held on to the deck by a strap) but everything else was intact with no damage. The anchor held fast, I suppose because of the 10 to 1 scope I had let out. I looked around - it was gorgeous. Time to mix a stiff nerve-settler, get out the grill and cook dinner.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Chesapeake Sailing Meccas.......................from K
We anchored in St. Michael's harbor surrounded by seafood restuarants, huge Canadian yachts, tiny dingies filled with children and dogs and lovely homes on the water with lots of boat toys. St. Michael's is a lovely touristy town with convenient ice cream shops on every block. Hankering for (affordable) steamed crabs, we borrowed a car (thanks Ellen!) and drove 2 miles out of town for a dozen big crabs - cooked to perfection. When in Maryland...
From St. Michael's, we flew across the bay sailing close to 8 knots at times - while pulling our waterlogged dingy (our first and not last really dumb foible). Upon entering Annapolis, the boats took my breath away. Not only were they beautiful and big, they were fearless and abundant. The Naval Academy cadets were weaving their dinghies around huge motorboats and a "Pirate Ship" crewed by preschool bandits threatened attack on every passing vessel. There was even a windsurfer amidst the mayham. Why can't our harbors in Hampton Roads be this lively? Because it was Saturday afternoon, there were no mooring balls available so we anchored off the Naval Academy, a busy, bumpy, noisy basin, but we had a great view of the Navy football and lacrosse practices. I suspect they were focusing on THE big game in November (GO NOTRE DAME!).
Sunday morning was a delightful dinghy ride to town and we attended mass at St. Mary's - a beautiful, traditional service. Once again, P & I felt we heard a familiar message as the homily focused on a the need for listening, rather than words, in prayer. "Have a heart with ears." Although I have always found comfort in my familiar rote prayers and words of thanks, I am slowly and resistantly discovering that I don't need words to pray - in fact, the words get in the way! How limiting and defining they present my feelings of gratitude and fear. How invigorating to simply spend time with God, listening and accepting. I acknowledge that I am infinitely blessed to have this "time out" year to explore my prayer life, and in my guilt, I remind myself that even Jesus took time to go to the dessert to be with His Father. To further appease my guilt, I also recognize that I will continue to respond to God's calls to action; but right now, I'm in the listening mode. And on that note, I suspect that although P is not saying anything, he would really appreciate it if I would come take the helm so he can put up his drifter. Sail on.
From St. Michael's, we flew across the bay sailing close to 8 knots at times - while pulling our waterlogged dingy (our first and not last really dumb foible). Upon entering Annapolis, the boats took my breath away. Not only were they beautiful and big, they were fearless and abundant. The Naval Academy cadets were weaving their dinghies around huge motorboats and a "Pirate Ship" crewed by preschool bandits threatened attack on every passing vessel. There was even a windsurfer amidst the mayham. Why can't our harbors in Hampton Roads be this lively? Because it was Saturday afternoon, there were no mooring balls available so we anchored off the Naval Academy, a busy, bumpy, noisy basin, but we had a great view of the Navy football and lacrosse practices. I suspect they were focusing on THE big game in November (GO NOTRE DAME!).
Sunday morning was a delightful dinghy ride to town and we attended mass at St. Mary's - a beautiful, traditional service. Once again, P & I felt we heard a familiar message as the homily focused on a the need for listening, rather than words, in prayer. "Have a heart with ears." Although I have always found comfort in my familiar rote prayers and words of thanks, I am slowly and resistantly discovering that I don't need words to pray - in fact, the words get in the way! How limiting and defining they present my feelings of gratitude and fear. How invigorating to simply spend time with God, listening and accepting. I acknowledge that I am infinitely blessed to have this "time out" year to explore my prayer life, and in my guilt, I remind myself that even Jesus took time to go to the dessert to be with His Father. To further appease my guilt, I also recognize that I will continue to respond to God's calls to action; but right now, I'm in the listening mode. And on that note, I suspect that although P is not saying anything, he would really appreciate it if I would come take the helm so he can put up his drifter. Sail on.
Friday, July 25, 2008
going up..........................from P
The only part of Senara that I had not yet touched, cleaned or fixed was the very top of the mast. I had been halfway up, to the steaming light, but never all the way. It is very weird and nerve-wracking to suspend yourself from a 3/8 diameter line in a little cloth seat (bosun's chair) with your life depending upon the tensile strength of the line, along with the winch, blocks and little fittings the blocks are attached to. Well, now I can say I have touched every part of Senara. Not by choice. My anchor light at the very tippy top of the mast burned out. So up I go the first time to pull out the light bulb so I could find a match. K took some pics from the deck looking up. Then after buying the right bulb, up I went again to put it in. This time I took the camera with me. The second time up, I quickly got used to it and really began to enjoy it while I snapped pictures (see below). The height is 55 feet from the water. When you are up there, it looks and feels like 55 miles. But the anchor light works now. Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay couldn't have felt much more satisfied whith their summit climb. Whew!
On the way..... made it!
________________________________________________
Senara's 37 feet looks a lot smaller from 55 ft up!
The view from here
____________________________________________________
The top, the fixed anchor light, and an unsteady hand holding the camera out. The windex behind me looks like it is coming out of my head!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
New & Old friends.........................from K
Out here on the water, hospitality abounds. P & I had a delightful evening with friends at their weekend home on Indian Creek - organic burgers, dirty martinis and great stories. For a moving account of the strength and faith of this inspirational family, visit http://caringbridge.org/ and type in kristinb. thanks Chris & Rhonda!
While in Kinsale on the Yeocomico, we were awakened by a friendly rower who "knocked" on our boat to welcome us to the river and invited us to a shrimp dinner - thanks Bob! At Solomon's, our daughter and cousin met us for an overnight up to Vera's White Sands Resort on the Leonard River. HA and MJ are always a delight to have on board - and who said you can't cook lasagne on a grill?!
And in Cambridge (this story is for you, Mom!), we met a man walking his lab and German shepheard along with his 8 cats - quite a sight! He said that he had 25 rescue pets in all - a friendly group!!!
Reconnecting with old friends and making new ones is indeed the wind in our sails.
The Cat Herder
just one more time.........................from P
I couldn't help myself. The Screwpile Challenge race series was being held again out of Solomon's MD - and we were going to be in that area during the same three days. The race series is named after an old lighthouse that was built on piles which were actually huge screws twisted into the bottom of the Bay, and stood guard at the entrance of Solomons harbor. This is one of my favorite places on the Bay (how many times am I going to say that?). My friend Capt. Tony brought his boat, TLSea, up from Hampton Roads to race against the "big boys". 140 boats from around the Bay were involved, most of them rigged for racing and crewed by practiced racing crews. Irresistable. So we got a comfortable slip for Senara at Spring Cove Marina for a few days and Tony, the crew, and I got our game faces on and went racin'. The third day of racing was cancelled due to dangerous storm conditions - and that was OK with me as it gave us time to do laundry, tour the great little town of Solomons, and recover from bruises, sore knees and a little bit of hangover from full days of hard sailing and after-race festivities. There are too many good stories to recount them all, but after two full days of windward-leeward tight racing in very good breezes we finished sixth in our class of 13 boats. Results are posted on the links in the right hand column. We were on the West Course, Class 11. Gotta stay in that top half! OK, now I am retired from racing.....for the trip anyway.
Capt. Tony and Drew, pre-race rig check.
The Crew: Fred, Capt. Tony, P, Kent, K (just so the picture would look better). Not pictured, Doc and Drew
Capt. Tony and Drew, pre-race rig check.
Doc and Kent
You can't do well without good crew. Fred is ready to hoist.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
underway..............................from P
I love being underway. Don't get me wrong - I really enjoy nice marinas and pretty, out-of-the-way anchorages, but for me nothing is better than a good breeze filling the sails accompanied by nothing but the sound of gurgling seawater and the crackle of the VHF radio now and then. We often spend eight to ten hours a day sailing between 3 and 6 knots. If we average 5 kts during the day, especially in the hot summer with fluky breezes, we are happy. Yes it can get really really hot. The only relief is to point the boat up head-to-wind, throw a line off the stern, don your favorite life jacket, and jump overboard (yes throw me in the briar patch). I did exactly that while crossing the Chesapeake Bay last week. It is best in the middle of the Bay in deep water where there are no sea nettles and the water is a gorgeous clean blue green. Senara was still ghosting along at about 1.5 kts so I tied the line to my life jacket and just let her pull me along slowly. 
K reaching along at 7 knots
Ghost Man Driving! gotta luv auto-pilot
During those lazy long sails in the hot summer life aboard takes on a different, surreal pace. I become mesmerized, almost in a trance, looking out at the water watching the pelicans dive on menhaden and watching the colors of the water and sky change over the hours. K likes to read and work crosswords in her favorite spot on the cushion chair up on the bow. Sometimes I activate the auto-pilot and go forward and join her up on the bow with a magazine. Or I get involved in small projects around the boat such as whipping the ends of any lines that appear to be fraying. Or I bother K by asking for help to make a sail change. For the past few days we have left our primary jib sail (a 155% genoa) rolled up and hoisted our yellow and white "drifter" sail which is a lighter fabric that will retain its shape in light air. Hoisting the drifter requires some coordination between the bowman (me) and the helmsman (K). After some effort the drifter is flying, we proudly admire our work, and we settle back into our dreamy lazy routine. Life is good when we are underway.
drifter is hoisted and made!
at anchor in the Yeocomico
K reaching along at 7 knots
Ghost Man Driving! gotta luv auto-pilot
During those lazy long sails in the hot summer life aboard takes on a different, surreal pace. I become mesmerized, almost in a trance, looking out at the water watching the pelicans dive on menhaden and watching the colors of the water and sky change over the hours. K likes to read and work crosswords in her favorite spot on the cushion chair up on the bow. Sometimes I activate the auto-pilot and go forward and join her up on the bow with a magazine. Or I get involved in small projects around the boat such as whipping the ends of any lines that appear to be fraying. Or I bother K by asking for help to make a sail change. For the past few days we have left our primary jib sail (a 155% genoa) rolled up and hoisted our yellow and white "drifter" sail which is a lighter fabric that will retain its shape in light air. Hoisting the drifter requires some coordination between the bowman (me) and the helmsman (K). After some effort the drifter is flying, we proudly admire our work, and we settle back into our dreamy lazy routine. Life is good when we are underway.
drifter is hoisted and made!
at anchor in the Yeocomico
Sunset behind Hooper Island after a full day underway.
back online! ..........................from P&K
Just when we were on a roll, we opened our Dell Inspiron to post here on Sunday the 13th and received a black screen with a "boot error" message. After spending an hour on the phone with India we learned that the only solution was to get our hands on the software CDs and boot up the old way. We had a pre-arranged meeting at Solomon's Island in MD with our daughter, so we had to wait until she brought the software up with her. Just another thing to get fixed early in our journey. Now we have over a weeks worth of Bay sailing we've been itching to post. Please stick with us!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
saint somewhere......................from P
N 37-32.945 W 76-19.806. Saturday morning, on the hook in Jackson Creek, Deltaville finishing up breakfast. Looking around in the early morning sun reminds me of yesterday's "motor run" up here. We got underway yesterday at 6:00 AM, and as my dad has always said - we were greatly rewarded for gettin' goin' early. On auto-pilot we drank our coffee sitting on the bow watching the pod of dolphin who decided to accompany us most of the way broach and play, one of them jumping clean out of the water a couple of times. No-one but us, the sparkling (but flat) bay, and the dolphin. It was one of those "OK just kill me now" moments. It was a short run, only 23 miles so we arrived around 9:30 - intentionally early so that we could get our head examined. Sorry...make that, get our potty fixed. Same thing. Since I had earlier invoked assistance from one if the saints, K's cousin, Barbara, suggested that we try again and see if we could get a hand from St. Vincent Ferrer. Apparently he is the potty saint. Who knew? Well, believe it or not, the saint showed up in Deltaville Boat Yard by the name of Christy. This was a new experience for me. I have never had a woman mechanic - especially a pretty, soft spoken one - work on my boat before. I had to resist the urge to say "... well I could do that myself you know....". Christy deftly dismantled the head pump, made some nifty modifications to the valve flaps and had us flushing in no time. She also changed the oil and replaced the filter with no fuss or muss. Total cost was about half what I initially guessed. The saints are 2 for 2. We walked into Deltaville and finally found a pizza place, returned to Senara and watched some TV on the laptop. I give Deltaville Boat Yard an A+ but I give the "town" of Deltaville a C-. Onward to anchor behind a friend's house in Indian Creek tonight. He promises martinis!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
In the groove.............................................from K
N 37-21.656 W 76-16.935
58 nautical miles from home and I'm in the groove. We fell asleep to a rhythmic rain last night and woke up to sunshine. After a much deserved leisurely breakfast and reading time, we set sail. And just when you think everthing is perfect...the new engine spewed smoke, the commode wouldn't flush and the washdown hose for the anchor wouldn't spray water. But the sails worked fine and the wind was blowing, so we sailed out of the York River, up the Chesapeake Bay beating into the wind - into the next harbor. We didn't get as far as we hoped (the Piankatank River) because a big dark cloud was following behind, but we found refuge and went aground in Horn Harbor, a shallow, little creek that no sailboat should ever enter (note to the CruiseGuide). But now that we're in here - anchored directly in the channel just for revenge - we have a delightful breeze, cooking flounder for dinner and hoping that low tide doesn't aground us forever. After all, it turns out that the engine smoke was just vestiges of the new paint and the the hose just needed to be primed one more time. Maybe the commode will flush tomorrow! A Perfect Day.
58 nautical miles from home and I'm in the groove. We fell asleep to a rhythmic rain last night and woke up to sunshine. After a much deserved leisurely breakfast and reading time, we set sail. And just when you think everthing is perfect...the new engine spewed smoke, the commode wouldn't flush and the washdown hose for the anchor wouldn't spray water. But the sails worked fine and the wind was blowing, so we sailed out of the York River, up the Chesapeake Bay beating into the wind - into the next harbor. We didn't get as far as we hoped (the Piankatank River) because a big dark cloud was following behind, but we found refuge and went aground in Horn Harbor, a shallow, little creek that no sailboat should ever enter (note to the CruiseGuide). But now that we're in here - anchored directly in the channel just for revenge - we have a delightful breeze, cooking flounder for dinner and hoping that low tide doesn't aground us forever. After all, it turns out that the engine smoke was just vestiges of the new paint and the the hose just needed to be primed one more time. Maybe the commode will flush tomorrow! A Perfect Day.
Sarah's Creek....................from P
from N 37-15.518 W 76-28.392. Our first leg! We are setting nicely at anchor in Sarah's Creek off the historic York River after a full day of sailing up the Bay yesterday. My brother lives on this creek so our destination had ulterior motives of a nice steak dinner off the grill along with great conversation and cigars. I know, it won't always be this way. But - you have to enjoy these opportunities when they come along.
Yesterday was not without its inaugural sailing excitement. It was stormy and rainy most of the day, but the breeze was steady between 12 and 17 kts. The problem with stormy conditions (thankfully no lightning yesterday) is that the wind swirls around from different directions unexpectedly. Toward the end of the day we were motor-sailing comfortably under the genoa only, when one of those swirly winds suddenly back-winded the gennie. When I released the now windward sheet to allow the sail to tack over, the wind suddenly came from behind and whipped the genoa straight out off the bow. It was flying like a flag forward of the boat. In the process the wayward genoa pulled the sheets out of the lead cars and I saw sheets first flying free then dropping into the water over the starboard side. I know what happens when that happens, so I threw the motor into neutral and went forward to find that the sheets were tight in the water and leading astern. Oh no. My first thought was that they are wrapped around the prop and we are dead in the water. Nice start to the trip. About now, K popped up from her nap and repeated our time tested mantra - What Are We Doin ?! After securing the clew of the gennie with another line, I was able to pull one sheet free - but the other one was stuck somewhere (yes it looks like it is leading down toward the prop). After a short prayer to St. Brendan I started making mental plans to either pull out my new dive gear and use my newly learned skills under somewhat dangerous windy conditions (but the boat is drifting fast) or calling Boat U.S. for a tow (not on our first day!). For some reason I glanced over to the port side and my eyes fell onto a knotted end of the fouled sheet - it was still jammed into the port side lead car and held by a knot I had tied into the end of the sheets, specifically to prevent losing them through the lead cars. Thank you St. Brendan. I untied the knot and was then able to pull the sheet from starboard, all the way back from under the boat. As I was doing it I could feel it coming across the keel and then up on the prop shaft - but it came free! It had flown forward, stopped at the knot, dropped into the drink, and looped all the way under the boat like a jump rope. If I had not thrown the motor into neutral quickly enough, my fears of a fouled prop would have come true. But - not this time! The amazing thing is that all of this happened in a span of maybe two or three minutes. We quickly settled back into a comfortable sail turning from the Bay up into the York river.
For my own learning process, I am going to follow the format of Sail Magazine and list the things I did right, and things I learned for next time:
Things I did right:
- moved the motor to neutral the instant I saw a line in the water.
- resisted the temptation to put the motor in reverse to "unwind" the line from the prop. As it turns out, it was not around the prop and this would have surely created a new problem.
- secured the clew of the genoa to get it under control and to be able to safely handle the sheets tied thereto.
Things I learned for next time:
- ensure there are big enough "stop knots" at the end of each sheet to prevent the sheets from pulling free and getting out of control.
- before assuming the worst, do a more thorough "look around". I could have seen the secured sheet sooner.
All of this just made the glass of wine with dinner last night tasted all the better.
Onward to the north today.
Yesterday was not without its inaugural sailing excitement. It was stormy and rainy most of the day, but the breeze was steady between 12 and 17 kts. The problem with stormy conditions (thankfully no lightning yesterday) is that the wind swirls around from different directions unexpectedly. Toward the end of the day we were motor-sailing comfortably under the genoa only, when one of those swirly winds suddenly back-winded the gennie. When I released the now windward sheet to allow the sail to tack over, the wind suddenly came from behind and whipped the genoa straight out off the bow. It was flying like a flag forward of the boat. In the process the wayward genoa pulled the sheets out of the lead cars and I saw sheets first flying free then dropping into the water over the starboard side. I know what happens when that happens, so I threw the motor into neutral and went forward to find that the sheets were tight in the water and leading astern. Oh no. My first thought was that they are wrapped around the prop and we are dead in the water. Nice start to the trip. About now, K popped up from her nap and repeated our time tested mantra - What Are We Doin ?! After securing the clew of the gennie with another line, I was able to pull one sheet free - but the other one was stuck somewhere (yes it looks like it is leading down toward the prop). After a short prayer to St. Brendan I started making mental plans to either pull out my new dive gear and use my newly learned skills under somewhat dangerous windy conditions (but the boat is drifting fast) or calling Boat U.S. for a tow (not on our first day!). For some reason I glanced over to the port side and my eyes fell onto a knotted end of the fouled sheet - it was still jammed into the port side lead car and held by a knot I had tied into the end of the sheets, specifically to prevent losing them through the lead cars. Thank you St. Brendan. I untied the knot and was then able to pull the sheet from starboard, all the way back from under the boat. As I was doing it I could feel it coming across the keel and then up on the prop shaft - but it came free! It had flown forward, stopped at the knot, dropped into the drink, and looped all the way under the boat like a jump rope. If I had not thrown the motor into neutral quickly enough, my fears of a fouled prop would have come true. But - not this time! The amazing thing is that all of this happened in a span of maybe two or three minutes. We quickly settled back into a comfortable sail turning from the Bay up into the York river.
For my own learning process, I am going to follow the format of Sail Magazine and list the things I did right, and things I learned for next time:
Things I did right:
- moved the motor to neutral the instant I saw a line in the water.
- resisted the temptation to put the motor in reverse to "unwind" the line from the prop. As it turns out, it was not around the prop and this would have surely created a new problem.
- secured the clew of the genoa to get it under control and to be able to safely handle the sheets tied thereto.
Things I learned for next time:
- ensure there are big enough "stop knots" at the end of each sheet to prevent the sheets from pulling free and getting out of control.
- before assuming the worst, do a more thorough "look around". I could have seen the secured sheet sooner.
All of this just made the glass of wine with dinner last night tasted all the better.
Onward to the north today.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
last minute stuff..........................from P
How many pair of underwear are you taking? Wonder if we will need a drill? Why the hell has the air conditioner stopped working? OK, let's stop and just think of this as one of our annual two-week trips. No pressure. Just 7 pair of underwear (who needs them anyway?). I do have a good spot for the drill, and the bits are in the toolbox; we may want to hang more hooks or whatever, so it can go. OK the code on the A/C readout means there was a hight pressure shutdown. The book says that means not enough water is circulating. So, first check the seacock. Next, the raw water strainer. Yep - sure enough, there is a huge nasty wad of jellyfish in the strainer. No problem. Oh no! Washing out the strainer, I sprayed the "O" ring out of it and overboard it went. No problem. Found a distributor on-line and I had the part number. Next day UPS is a wonderful thing. Got extras. And so it goes.
It is now the day before departure and except for one more load of clothes and one more trip to the grocery store, we are finally ready to set sail! As a friend of mine said, "if you wait until everything is perfect, you will never go." With that, let's go! Tomorrow morning we are outta here!
It is now the day before departure and except for one more load of clothes and one more trip to the grocery store, we are finally ready to set sail! As a friend of mine said, "if you wait until everything is perfect, you will never go." With that, let's go! Tomorrow morning we are outta here!
Saturday, July 5, 2008
kissing the pig...............................from P
Crystal clear 80 degree water, 40 to 50 feet of visibility, and interesting stuff to look at. What a great day for our final certification dives! Big Bill, our dive instructor and owner of Grimsley Scuba Services, spent most of the day with just K and I. We logged almost 1.5 hours of bottom time over 3 repetitive dives. I had heard about "the quarry" - and it lived up to its reputation as a great dive location. The first thing we saw was an underwater sign commemorating this location as the spot where the first scene in "The Replacements" was shot. I do not remember the scene (why were they underwater at the beginning of a football movie?) but apparently Keanu Reeves and Gene Hackman were filmed here doing something underwater for 30 seconds or so. Big Bill relates a great story of meeting Keanu and asking about the dive mask mark on his lip. Turns out Keanu was trying to grow a mustache. Next day, the mark was gone. Big Bill - changing the course of hollywood history. Ironically, the first structure we encountered was a sunken sailboat! I think God is still trying to impress upon me to be careful on this trip. We continued deeper to a schoolbus sitting on the bottom. It appeared to be ready to drive out of the lake; still blue and yellow with inflated tires! I was glad to note no lingering riders. This was our "depth" for the dive, 31 feet. I realized the sound of the bubbles changed at around 30 feet. No more big bubbly boiling noise. Now it was more of a distant, lower sound with smaller bubbles who did not seem to be in as much of a hurry. I also noted a temperature drop down to 69 or 70 degrees and everything turned a darker shade of blue. Of course the thermoclines and light absorption were all well explained in our classes, but study and experience are always two different things.
On our final dive Big Bill pointed us in a different direction to a clear area at about 22 feet depth where, lo and behold, stood a concrete pig coated with the requisite scum and silt. Big Bill deftly maneuvered down and around the pig, popped the regulator out of his mouth, and planted a big smooch on the pig's lips. This was the first time I had to deal with laughing with a second stage regulator in my mouth. He motioned me over, pointed to the pig, and I knew what I had to do. Yes, getting certified requires great sacrifice. After I got my kiss, K was motioned over. She didn't refuse but added a new paragraph to the story of the pig by wiping her mouth with her rubber sleeve after a quick peck - this time I saw Big Bill trying to manage his regulator through a guffaw. Back in the classroom we were presented with our temporary certification card. When we got home my daughter asked if we were certified. I said yes, but much more importantly we kissed the pig!
On our final dive Big Bill pointed us in a different direction to a clear area at about 22 feet depth where, lo and behold, stood a concrete pig coated with the requisite scum and silt. Big Bill deftly maneuvered down and around the pig, popped the regulator out of his mouth, and planted a big smooch on the pig's lips. This was the first time I had to deal with laughing with a second stage regulator in my mouth. He motioned me over, pointed to the pig, and I knew what I had to do. Yes, getting certified requires great sacrifice. After I got my kiss, K was motioned over. She didn't refuse but added a new paragraph to the story of the pig by wiping her mouth with her rubber sleeve after a quick peck - this time I saw Big Bill trying to manage his regulator through a guffaw. Back in the classroom we were presented with our temporary certification card. When we got home my daughter asked if we were certified. I said yes, but much more importantly we kissed the pig!
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