People often ask me "when does abalone season open?" It happens frequently this time of year, as I begin my typical and incessant gibbering about abalone. My answer (April-June, August-November, except Fort Ross/Pedotti closed April-May this season), however, is always qualified by the fact that opening April 1 is, really, a cruel joke. This year was no different:
As you can see, there were nice, enormous, dangerous waves for the surfers - sea conditions that any diver worth his salt knows to avoid. It was a stay-home opener, as usual. However, and unlike last year, it appears the gods have smiled upon us, and a calm spot is currently forecast for this Saturday.
We always consider the first dive of the season a "gear check-out," but I'll be surprised if a couple big snails don't come home with us.... Stay tuned.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Monday, September 12, 2011
Rough Year So Far!
I've only been in the water a handful of times this season, and now this is all over. It's terrible and sad. I want to get out there and see it for myself. Pedotti's is one of the most productive reefs in the world - I'm sure it will recover, but from what I've heard, nothing "shallow" will have made it.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
First Dive 2011
We got into the water on April 23. The swell report showed a reasonably-calm spot Saturday and the winds were expected to cooperate. People on NCUH were reporting great visibility in some spots. We tried a new (to us) shore access north of Jenner, though not far enough north to get the good vis, apparently.
The first dive of the season is a check-out for us, and this was no exception. Not only was there new gear making it's debut, but we also took along my almost-13-year-old son, Julian, for his first-ever dive. I made it clear on the drive out that this was about getting him in the water - not about him getting abalone, which, it turned out, was how it...err...turned out.
People frequently tell me they want to try diving. Maybe it has to do with my ranting about how great it is. Maybe it's because I feed them abalone and they want more. Honestly, my reason for diving is simply to be there, in the Pacific. The hunting and the food and the trophy shells are really all just an excuse for getting me in the water. It's hard to describe the feeling for me. Just think of the strongest synonym you can for 'bliss' and you're getting close, but it really isn't easy.
I lost my new mask and never-before-used snorkel while helping get Julian into his fins. Last time that particular piece of gear isn't either on my face or on my neck. Honestly, I know better. I towed him out through the break on the float. It was already clear that the panic was setting in. You can see it on new diver's faces. It's the same look that will cause them to consume eighty cubic feet of air in just a few minutes on scuba. The best thing you can do is distract, but when you add an ill-fitting wetsuit, the timer is ticking on hypothermia as well. I managed to get him off the float to check weighting and have him try putting his head underwater a few times, then one of us just stayed with him while the other found some dinner.
I wasn't expecting any trophies, but when I pulled a round, tall eight who was back-out of a hole (could have sworn it was bigger,) my heart sank a little. Sorry little guy. I swam back and got that into the float and Pat gave me the "not much longer" vibe on the kid. I just dropped right there by the float, found a crevice, measured about ten snails, went back for the biggest and popped him, all on one breath. At least he was a nine. Back at the surface it was snail-and-gear-into-float and start towing the kid back to shore.
The spot was too hard for a beginner - even with the calm seas the entry and break were too exposed. Once in, the diving was easy and any depth with lots of snails - but the visibility was in the 3-5 range and towing a shivering kid around makes you feel rushed. We both missed our kayak, so I really need to get my truck up and running ASAP! In the end, one lost mask and snorkel, one smiling kid, gear checked-out, some amazing dinner (and lunch.) Totally worth it.
The first dive of the season is a check-out for us, and this was no exception. Not only was there new gear making it's debut, but we also took along my almost-13-year-old son, Julian, for his first-ever dive. I made it clear on the drive out that this was about getting him in the water - not about him getting abalone, which, it turned out, was how it...err...turned out.
People frequently tell me they want to try diving. Maybe it has to do with my ranting about how great it is. Maybe it's because I feed them abalone and they want more. Honestly, my reason for diving is simply to be there, in the Pacific. The hunting and the food and the trophy shells are really all just an excuse for getting me in the water. It's hard to describe the feeling for me. Just think of the strongest synonym you can for 'bliss' and you're getting close, but it really isn't easy.
I lost my new mask and never-before-used snorkel while helping get Julian into his fins. Last time that particular piece of gear isn't either on my face or on my neck. Honestly, I know better. I towed him out through the break on the float. It was already clear that the panic was setting in. You can see it on new diver's faces. It's the same look that will cause them to consume eighty cubic feet of air in just a few minutes on scuba. The best thing you can do is distract, but when you add an ill-fitting wetsuit, the timer is ticking on hypothermia as well. I managed to get him off the float to check weighting and have him try putting his head underwater a few times, then one of us just stayed with him while the other found some dinner.
I wasn't expecting any trophies, but when I pulled a round, tall eight who was back-out of a hole (could have sworn it was bigger,) my heart sank a little. Sorry little guy. I swam back and got that into the float and Pat gave me the "not much longer" vibe on the kid. I just dropped right there by the float, found a crevice, measured about ten snails, went back for the biggest and popped him, all on one breath. At least he was a nine. Back at the surface it was snail-and-gear-into-float and start towing the kid back to shore.
The spot was too hard for a beginner - even with the calm seas the entry and break were too exposed. Once in, the diving was easy and any depth with lots of snails - but the visibility was in the 3-5 range and towing a shivering kid around makes you feel rushed. We both missed our kayak, so I really need to get my truck up and running ASAP! In the end, one lost mask and snorkel, one smiling kid, gear checked-out, some amazing dinner (and lunch.) Totally worth it.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Monday, November 29, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Last Dive - First Ten!
As is my customary practice, I skipped out on shopping on Black Friday, and since Poseidon had granted us divers a boon, found myself paddling the kayak with Pat to our new favorite abalone spot. We couldn't have asked for much better weather. Light breeze, sunny, a touch cool, but the seas were flat like all get out. Flat like dive anywhere. Flat like try out that spot you can only dive a few days a year flat.
We checked a new area, which I believe still has some big ones hiding out in the kelp, and then popped back over to a really productive spot we hit a couple times this season already. Lots and lots of abalone from just-emergent fives right up to big nines living in perfect harmony. I don't think many people ever get into this spot.
After scouting a bit, I saw a huge one on my way up. When I surfaced, and I told Pat there was a big one "right there." A couple breaths later, I was back down at it. It was bigger than a 9.5, so that would be a record for me. I popped it, then gauged it underwater, and it was bigger than 10. Started singing the abalone song in my head. Measured again. Plain-and-obvious first 10. Not a clicker. Then I realized I needed to breathe. Sounded the ten-inch alarm when Pat surfaced and barely tucked it through the opening on my game bag.
10-1/4" x 8-1/4"
We limited out since the season is over. My others were 9-plus, as has been everything I've pulled later this season. Once I get a chance, I'll do a review post for this season. Next year I plan to focus even more on hunting the giants and encouraging friends to understand the resource and sport of abalone diving.
We checked a new area, which I believe still has some big ones hiding out in the kelp, and then popped back over to a really productive spot we hit a couple times this season already. Lots and lots of abalone from just-emergent fives right up to big nines living in perfect harmony. I don't think many people ever get into this spot.
After scouting a bit, I saw a huge one on my way up. When I surfaced, and I told Pat there was a big one "right there." A couple breaths later, I was back down at it. It was bigger than a 9.5, so that would be a record for me. I popped it, then gauged it underwater, and it was bigger than 10. Started singing the abalone song in my head. Measured again. Plain-and-obvious first 10. Not a clicker. Then I realized I needed to breathe. Sounded the ten-inch alarm when Pat surfaced and barely tucked it through the opening on my game bag.
10-1/4" x 8-1/4"We limited out since the season is over. My others were 9-plus, as has been everything I've pulled later this season. Once I get a chance, I'll do a review post for this season. Next year I plan to focus even more on hunting the giants and encouraging friends to understand the resource and sport of abalone diving.
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