crazy dive page 3

  "You've got to kidding!" I shout to Mike, "My back up computer is dead."
  We can see Scott's boat about a mile up the channel from us. We discuss for some time about whether to go see if he has a spare computer or to just bunch the day and head back to town for repairs.
  I do not say to Mike, but I know I should get back down to pressure to decompress from my too quick accent.
  "Let's go see what Scott has," I say, as I fire up the big engines.
  with a roar we race off to talk to Scott.
  C.J. is tending for Scott when we pull up along side. I glide in, very careful to see where Scott is so I don't get my boat over the top of him.
  C.J. looks up and cranes his neck out of the boat to hear over the roar of his compressors.
  "Does Scott have a spare computer?" We shout as loudly as we can yell.
  "What? Can't hear you!" C.J. shouts back.
  I pull the Samantha in closer to the Gracie K.
  We shout again.
  "I don't know if he has one or not. Give him a bit he is on his last bag, and will need to come up on this one," C.J. shouts back.
  We pull out and wait for Scott to surface.
  "There he is," Mike says, pointing at Scott's hooded head breaking surface.
  We pull along side and grab the rails of Scott's boat as C.J. helps him on board.
  "Scott, I locked my computer on a quick accent," I tell him as he peels off his wet hood. "Do you have a spare computer I can borrow for the rest of the day?"
  "You bet," comes his quick reply. He races in his boat and comes out with a computer.
  We discuss the dive tables I have on my locked up computer and what safe dive limits are for me now.
  "Thanks millions Scott," I shout as we pull away.
  I race back to our dive area, knowing that Scott has harvested half of his quota in the time I have just a dab. Hard not to be a tad bit bitter.
  Shutting down the boat on our dive area we learn that the rising tide is like a river flowing the opposite direction from the morning.
  "Let's get to the point up there and work with it," I tell Mike as I fire up the engines again.
  We race to the point and Mike gets the deck ready for me to dive.
  Back into the dive suit, the bail out bottle, the weight belt, gloves, hoods.... good grief, this gets old quickly.
  I jump in the water, give the thumbs up and head for the bottom. Clearing my ears as I drop I press my air valve on my suit to slow my decent to learn that I failed to hook it up on surface. All I do is fill my dry suit with a blast of very cold ice water!
  I can't find the end of the hose to connect, so back to the top I go.
  "Hook me up," I shout to mike.
  He snaps me in and back down I go.
  No air! Again. I race for the surface, this time from a shallow 20 feet.
  "The part we put on broke!"Mike screams.
  Back out of the water. We unhook the outlet hose on that compressor and cap it off so it won't drain the reserve tank. This will let me dive, but on very limited air. The tank gauge barley creeps to 90 pounds.
  Back into the water. I try to go below 40 feet and have to suck way too hard on the regulator to get air. I decide to just finish the day working shallow. But... shallow with the extreme high tide is just crazy. There is not much to find. Very big rocks with lots of kelp to dig through.
  I pick as hard as I can for about an hour when the cold of my flooded suit starts getting me.
  I am shivering like crazy and my legs cramp completely. I pull myself along the bottom with my hands, screaming in pain into my regulator. "good thing I don't have com system or Mike would think something is attacking me," I think to myself.
  "This is crazy," I think to myself. No amount of money is worth this.
  I slowly make my way to the surface.
  We are done for the day.
  "I'll have to make it up tomorrow, I tell Mike as I undress from my dive suit and get into some warm clothes. "If we can get back on the good picking at low tide tomorrow I can make up for today," I promise him.
  I fire up the engines and we head up the channel to the packer boat that is buying our cucumbers.
  We off load a surprising 926 pounds for a very tough day.
    Not bad for a decrepit old has been diver with a few obstacles along the way!
  Tomorrow is the day... but... little do we know... tomorrow may be worse!
  I'll keep you posted