My First Solo Dive

Last Saturday (11/22/08) I found myself without a single dive buddy. Amazing. The excuses ran the gamut from sickness to a recent robbery (he was robbed, not the robber). I've been toying with the idea of soloing since I stepped into doubles, so I decided this was the perfect opportunity to give it a shot.

Before I discuss any further, I feel compelled to say something. Yes, I know solo diving is controversial. If the idea of people going it alone on scuba offends you, now is a good time to stop reading this, or any other future post detailing such experiences. I'm not going to waste this space justifying my decision, just know that I won't hesitate to remove any negative commenting.

Ok, enough with the negativity. Moving on... I decided that Breakwater (BW) Cove in Monterey would be an appropriate place for a first dive. It's a fairly popular place, which inspired confidence that if something dire happened, chances were high that I'd be discovered sooner or later. I've done a fair share of diving there, and was familiar with the site. Finally, it's a fairly shallow dive, making a quick, safe ascent possible should I encounter any insurmountable problems.

Navigation here is easy- the shore makes a sort of "L" shape. A gently sloping underwater rock wall runs along one length of the shore, and the other length is where divers enter/exit. You kick out with the wall on your right, and kick back with the wall on your left- pretty hard to mess up.

High level details-
Equipment: double steel 100s, EAN32, drysuit, hog setup
Max Depth: 55ft
Time: 75 minutes (I had plenty of gas and NDL at the end, but was running late for an event that night)
Vizibility: around 15 feet

In short, the experience was bliss. Being alone that day was exactly what I needed. Additionally, I was free to go where I wanted, when I wanted, at whatever pace suited me. I had a depth/time/gas plan, but no constraints apart from that. Sometimes I need to not have a mission.

I slept in, and then made a pre-dive emergency run to Any Water Sports. When they filled my tanks the night before, I forgot to grab some cats, and I was out. No way I'm doing a long dry dive without the "requisite equipment." So, leisurely start and no guilt over holding anyone else up. So far so good.

I made my way down to BW, geared up, and headed in. I was shocked. Not a single person felt compelled to tell me how I was about to kill myself- even when I asked strangers for help zipping and unzipping my drysuit. This is inconsistent with other stories I've heard about the site.

I dropped into about 10 ft of water, and decided to try some valve drills (tank valves, not relief valve- that came later). It had been a while and I was slower than I'd like, but I felt comfortable enough to proceed.

I kicked out along the wall, and spent some time looking at a few large rocks. When diving reefs out here, I'm always overcome with the abundance of life everywhere that life is possible. And life down here is brilliant. The rocks explode in color with strawberry anemones, tube worms, shrimp, coral, and (my favorite) iridescent seaweed (Iridea Cordata). Not an inch is left uncovered.

I continued, exploring a couple of snail tracks (a fascination of mine), until I came across a school of 15-20 rockfish hovering around the wall, at about 40 ft. I decided to join them. They lazily made room for me somewhere in the middle, and we bonded. It's an enormous privilege, one that I never take for granted, to spend time hovering among a group of fish. Most species out here don't seem very bothered by human presence. I doubt they'd let me touch them, but we have an agreement- I don't try, and they don't leave.

After about a minute, I decided it was time to press forward. It was painful to tear myself away, but I had evening plans constraining my dive time and still wanted to do some exploring.

I decided to move away from the wall for a spell, and spend some time on the ocean floor with the tube anemones. For some reason, I'm most at peace hovering above that sandy floor, littered with tube anemones and starfish. It's a relaxation unparalelled. I think it has something to do with the quiet I experience in this environment. The dizzying array of color on the reef is replaced by a surreal, hazy sort of brown and white, and I find myself among creatures truly foreign to me- no matter how much time I spend in their presence. Solitude permeates the experience.

I spent a moment there to take it all in, and then pressed onward. I kicked along the bottom, looking for rainbow nudis and perhaps an octopus, but had no luck. That was a little odd, actually. I did, however, find a rather large sea anemone I'd not before encountered. I checked my computer, and saw that I was approaching my turn time. It was time to pursue my one goal for the dive: spend some time kicking away from the wall, and discover what's out there off the beaten path.

I'd never dove out there, and I was curious how things change as one moves away from shore. I'd estimate that I kicked about 100 ft through the tube anemone fields, into a bare, sandy expanse. It was wonderful. I kept moving away from shore, until I was surrounded by featureless terrain. I was hoping to find a bat ray or other pelagic, but instead found deeper solitude. No complaints here. At this point, I decided to practice another valve drill (not the tank valve, this time). P-valve hardware is still kind of new to me, so I was grateful to be on my own. I could stop, relax, and not worry about my buddies giving me funny looks.

I kicked around for a while longer, checked my computer again, and saw that it was time to head back to shore. Interesting proposition, navigating in this barren landscape. (Murray, did we pass this brown blob earlier? I think we did, Murray. Why don't you stop and ask for directions?) Fortunately, one of the lessons impressed on me very early out here is that compasses are useful. Knowing how to use them, even more so. I took an approximate bearing for the shore and followed it.

Ironically, it was on a solo dive that my fin strap broke. I use tough steel spring straps that aren't supposed to break, but apparently they didn't get the memo. Somehow, the bracket holding one of the ends in place decided to give up. And I thought navigating the barren expanse would be interesting... By this time, I was in about 20 feet of water and had come to the rock wall paralleling the shore. I figured, hey- I've got air, I'm already running late. Why don't I forego the ascent and see how hard it is to kick into shore underwater with one fin?

It's hard.

Especially when you're also trying to vent a drysuit.

I eventually made it into about 6 ft waters, and surfaced. I swam back to shore, removed my gear, and hit the road- exhilarated, calm, and very happy.

So, I'm not about to abandon my buddies. I've made some great friends out here: people that I love spending time with both above and under the water. Another set of eyes means even more interesting things spotted, assistance in resolving problems underwater, and of course I concede that as END (equivalent narcotic depth) increases, extra brains become a signifcant boon. (Of course, this begs the response that that number should always be kept to a manageable level).

That said, I view this dive as the first step in a longer journey. I intend to continue diving this way when I feel the need, and I suspect it will become a somewhat regular discipline for me. Few experiences inspire a greater peace and satisfaction than quiet isolation under the waves. I expect that exploring the kelp forests on my own will only enhance those feelings. I hope to keep writing about my experiences- both as a journal for my own reference, and so that some of you might benefit from the reading.

If you've made it this far, kudos and thank you. I (half-heartedly) apologize for the length. Truth be told, there was so much more detail I wanted to share- the captivating blue/purple shimmer of the seaweed and the majesty of the few remaining kelp stalks, to name a couple. We all have limited resources though, and I've taken enough of yours.

Have a great day, and visit the beach soon!

- Ben

Zen and the Art of Diving... in Krill

I recently ran across a YouTube video created by one of our local divers- Doctor Wong. It captures the sprit of diving out here- at least how I perceive it. If you're interested and have a couple of minutes, check it out. I don't think you'll be disappointed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iko6VezsHrw&feature=related

Cheers,Ben