friends in tow...

Having lived in SoCal off and on since the early 90s…I’ve dived around Catalina many times, and none of the dive spots that we hit on a trip this past weekend were new…but in diving, you quickly find that for most dive locations, every time you go can be a new and thrilling dive of discovery, if you pay attention.  You can also be presented with new challenges in unexpected places.

Diving with KK in Palau -photo by Mark Grantham

I’ve been diving with the same group of friends now for about 9 years.   We are friends above and below water…and I would say we’ve learned more about love, friendship, forgiveness, and tolerance from all of our adventures both topside and underneath the waves.   In the past year, having had 2 in our group go through some life-threatening accidents and challenges, I believe we all are more appreciative of our time together and the special times that we share.  This weekend…a few things happened that have made me think about how important it is sometimes to be able to a) know your limits, both physical and mental, and b) when to accept help from a friend.

Sunlight in kelp - photo by Tessa Ptacek

On Saturday, we dove on one of my favorite dive sites off Catalina, a pinnacle on the leeward side of the island, called Ship Rock.   I love this dive, because it provides great diving for beginning divers through technical divers…as the pinnacle slopes off  from about 30 feet, all the way down to 200 feet or more.   My buddy Kathryn and I decided to dive down to about 100 feet on the pinnacle and then work our way around and slowly up.  The dive was stunning at times…with water clarity up to at least 60 feet or more in places, and schools of blacksmith swirling around us like a swarm of bees.  

Ship Rock - photo by Robin Bronner

I took time to breathe and look up and see the sun filtering down through the kelp and rocks and take that mental picture that I’ve learned to do on my most beautiful dives, as pictures can never capture the exact feeling.   Diving gives me such a sense of peace and wonder…and I always try to stay very conscious of the fact that I get to witness a world that most people on earth will never see.   

We hit a strong current as we swam around the pinnacle, reminding me of some of the cave flows in Florida, but it was so beautiful and clear, we kept going, working our way up to about 30 feet or so.   We had circumnavigated the pinnacle…a perfect dive.   We surfaced briefly and saw we were right in front of where the boat was anchored, so we took a compass heading and descended to make our way to the boat underwater.  Ah, best-laid plans.    After kicking for several minutes and not seeing any sign of the boat, we again surfaced to check our position.   Um, now we were on the far side of the boat…down current.   Did I mention there was a strong current that day? This is one of the challenges of underwater navigation, you may have a correct heading but if the current pushes you down…your heading will be off of your original position.   So we took a new heading, descended again and kicked away.   During this process, we lost sight of each other, and while we both ascended again trying to connect, I soon saw K. was far ahead of me now and I was still really in the same spot.   Even though I had been kicking like mad.    

Really???   (I found out later that I had incorrectly tucked some seals in my borrowed semi-dry suit into my boots, bogging me down with tons of water in my legs!).   I kicked again….hoping to gain some distance.  Surfaced.  Same spot.   Signaled to the boat by raising one hand…”come pick me up.”   Now, as an experienced California diver, I HATE to do that…we pride ourselves on getting back to the boat…but when you’re not making headway and just getting more and more tired, it makes no sense to keep pushing yourself into exhaustion, where you’re no longer able to help yourself.  While watching to see if they sent out the skiff to get me…(I didn’t) …I spotted another diver in the water, moving very quickly my way.  I soon recognized my friend Terry, who has a scooter….coming to pick me up!   Whew.    He clipped me in, and drove the scooter back to the boat.  I could feel the scooter working hard against the current to move both of us to the boat.  I just put my head down and relaxed as much as possible to create less drag.   I put full trust in Terry to get us to the boat and he did.  

We did two more beautiful dives that day, one at Eagle Reef, where hornsharks were plentiful,  and one at Sea Fan grotto, known for a shallow cavern with beautiful gorgonian sea fans, creating a magical atmosphere of a secret mermaid cave.   One of my favorite spots.

Hornshark in hiding - photo by Tessa Ptacek

That night, we docked back in San Pedro, and several of us attended a birthday party of another dive friend, who was celebrating a special one…with a lovely Moroccan theme, which had transformed her home into a true Casablanca abode.   We enjoyed amazing food, drinks, ambiance, and some of us received readings from a tarot card reader…who seemed to only have positive readings for all of us, no matter the cards.  ;-)  We liked that.   It was a nice interlude to two wonderful days of diving.

Fog lifts on the backside of Catalina

We headed back to the boat and slept well, all the way through the early morning departure to Farnsworth banks.   Sleeping on a boat is the best thing ever, especially when the boat is under way.  The movement is like being rocked to sleep, and the water slapping against the boat hull is tranquilizing.   Sometimes you feel like you can sleep forever.   But then you smell breakfast and hunger wins over sleep.

The sun was rising over the boat when I got up…hitting the water like a million sparkling diamonds.   We were on our way to the backside (windward) side of Santa

Sunrise over the Pacific Star

Catalina to dive Farnsworth Banks…one of the most stunning dives in southern California.  A ridge of pinnacles that starts at about 60 feet and drops down to deep depths, the ridges are covered by purple hydrocorals like I’ve never seen anywhere else.   Strong waves and currents can make this site undiveable….and you never quite know until you get there if you will make the dive or not.  Fortunately…it was a calm day, and Captain Dave of the Pacific Star got us right on top of one of the shallow pinnacles.  No other boats were there…which also made it perfect.   

Purple hydrocoral at Farnsworth - photo by Mirek Wolski

   
We made our way down the anchor line, and saw that we had great visibility and tons of life swirling around the pinnacles, including TWO large electric (torpedo) rays, one of whom was very interested in my buddies for the dive, Kathryn and Jennifer.  It swam right over their tanks, which gave me a bit of concern, since these rays can shock a person, and while probably not fatal, would certainly stun and cause some pain and shock.  Fortunately the ray swam off …maybe it just likes girls wearing doubles and wanted to check them out more closely.  ;-)

Torpedo Ray at Farnsworth - photo by Mirek Wolski

Purple hydrocoral, Farnsworth - photo by Mirek Wolski

Farnsworth - Photo by Mirek Wolski

After two spectacular dives at Farnsworth, the captain moved the boat down the island to drop off some of the technical divers in our group to a deep water wreck, with the rest of us hitting a spot called Johnson Rocks nearby.   My buddy for this dive, Jennifer, and I headed down this lovely reef, in less than stellar conditions, because a strong current had kicked up and visibility was starting to drop.  I saw the kelp laying down flat as we heading down current, but there wasn’t really an option to swim in the opposite direction, so we made our way down the reef and back, and had a beautiful dive with more schools of fish, and tons of outcroppings that were fun to swim around.    As we made our way back towards the boat, we again hit strong currents, and we were actually pulling ourselves along the flattened kelp to conserve energy.   On our way, we heard a boat passing overhead, and looked up to see the boat’s skiff towing 3 divers in a row.   Hmmm.   We surfaced down current from the boat…but at least this time not as far as my Ship Rock dive, and we both were able to kick back to the swim step.   Props to Jen with her doubles…I was working really hard to kick with my single tank…at least I didn’t have a gallon of water in my legs this time!

Back on the boat we relaxed on the Lido deck with friends and sunshine, laughing at our misadventures, and celebrating our safe return and time together.    Two groups of divers had to be towed in that last dive…mainly due to the distance they had been dropped and the strong currents.

DiveVettes Forever: Kathryn, Mary, Kathy M., Jennifer

All of this made me reflect on how diving can be such a metaphor for life…when all goes well, it is magical and easy…but particularly in our part of the world, diving can take a quick turn.  Although being trained to your best ability helps a diver deal with the inevitable challenges that can arise, knowing that you can depend on your buddies and fellow divers to assist when needed can make all of the difference in the outcome of a potential problem. 

I’ve found that it’s not just “the adventure” that counts, it’s with whom you share the journey.

The dance....

Today at work, one of the pediatric residents ( a young doctor,  completing her training to be a pediatrician) asked me and one of my nurse practitioner colleagues how we dealt with the death of children in our work.  Were there some cases that you just couldn't keep a professional distance from?   We told her, of course...there are always those patients who grab your heart for whatever reason....and no matter how much experience or professional training you have, you find yourself crying your eyes out when they leave this world.   How do you deal with it,  people ask me, seeing children sick, seeing them die?

Children aren't supposed to die.  We all know that.  But.....they do.  Babies die, toddlers, young children, teens, and young adults die...every day.   If you work in a pediatric hospital, you come to accept this as part of the work...you're going to experience death, on some level, at some time.   The reason all of us who choose this work do what we do is not about death, however.  It's about life.  It's about doing our best to heal physical brokenness when we can, and to heal emotional brokenness when we can't fix the wounds of illness, cancer, trauma, and genetics.   We receive many gifts from seeing our patients return to health, and receive many when they do not.  What we learn from these children and their families changes who we are, how we see life, forever.   Doctors and nurses who work with dying patients know to never, ever, take life for granted.   And that indeed, even in death, joy can be found.

Because death is a part of life.  We all will go through this passage.  For those of us who do not believe that death is the ultimate end, but rather another beginning, the pain of saying goodbye to a loved ones' physical presence is tempered by knowing that not only will their spirit live on, going on glorious adventures, but that someday, we will dance and love and joyfully celebrate together again.  Maybe I couldn't do the work I do without that belief...but no more could I exist in this world without it either.  Having experienced the presence of loved ones who have crossed over, and knowing that they are just across the horizon, the pain of parting is always softened with this knowledge.

Neil Gaiman wrote a lovely book that addresses some of these themes, called "The Graveyard Book." http://www.neilgaiman.com/works/Books/The+Graveyard+Book/

Such an ethereal story, that ultimately speaks to the fact that we can't spend our lives living in the past, chasing ghosts, or fading into the shadows...that life is lived by stepping out into the world and taking chances, living as fully as possible, with love and truth.  If we live this way, we understand that when we reach "the graveyard," that it's time to dance with joy with those whom we are forever connected to, both here and beyond.   By chance, I just found this lovely song (and wonderful video)  by one of my new favorite bands, Delta Rae, that seems like it was written to compliment this wonderful book.  It's like a spiritual hymn, that makes you want to dance,and laugh,and smile.  

http://youtu.be/lPOM0IUsd_0

A walk at sunset

Smells were good too!

 Sometimes the light is just right, and  you have the most wonderful views on a simple walk after dinner with your dog.  I'm lucky to live by the ocean (like a hop and skip), but the sky was just beautiful this night.   Kaia got to run off leash on the dog walking path behind our condo, and her ears tell the whole story of how happy she was!

Last light in the west

Our view towards Palos Verdes

Redondo Pier at sunset

Happiness is running as fast as you can!