Floatline Follies
More than a story, this is really a learning experience accelerator: to the pro’s all the bellow will be common beginner mistakes. But, here they are...
I arrived at our beach house on Saturday afternoon with one thing in mind: jumping in the Pacific. Driving down the hill, the waves on the adjoining beach looked “OK”. That is, OK if you’re a bass, or some other poor ocean creature that likes regular centrifugal dousing, like a surfer for example….
Autumn is just starting here (in Chile) and the Ocean is changing. I have always got a beating entering from the rocks in front of the house, and have learnt a lot. Having surfed also helps a lot understanding the “sets” of waves, their power, what they do, and the lulls between.
Peering from my terrace, the sandy bottom spots about 300 Meters away were showing clear. That meant great clarity. Just the weekend before, I had dived in pea soup type water. It was the first time I had dived into such murkiness, only seeing the bottom once there. I didn’t like that, neither did my apnea. I’m sure I didn’t log a dive longer than 45 seconds.
Leaping into my gear, eating a granola bar instead of lunch, it was 3pm already, and I headed out. “Too much stuff” as my wife always says. I had asked the kids (6 and 4 years) for their opinions: freediving or spearfishing?? The replied “Freediving “ in unison, as, not too modestly speaking, I have been getting quite good at spear fishing and they are getting tired of eating fish..
As usual, I paid them no attention, grabbed my gun, float and millions of other things that I need to get into rough 12 deg C water, and went.
A 200M walk and I was in the water, on my first float related struggle: the orange, soft, floaty line that came with the Buechat float sucks. No, wait, it sucks BIG time. The surf was not too high yet. I normally exit through the rocks to avoid full impact, dragging (crawling) over boulders. As I let the 18 or so meters of line out, it washed towards me, tangling the hell out of everything: around my knife, speargun etc etc. Fuming, I removed my gloves (what a pain) and unraveled the disaster. Eventually, I managed to set off. The peaks (from the front) of the breaking waves were about 1.5M at this time. Not without a struggle I pushed through, only to arrive on the back of the waves with the biggest knot-up you have ever seen.
On unraveling the knots, tugging and pulling, just behind the breakers in about 8M of water, one particularly frustrated pull released my weightbelt, you know; the too heavy spearfishing one, the one that makes you neutral at about 3M to enjoy the stealthy glide down on un-suspecting fishies. That one. I have always seen those scuba course descriptions “recovery of dropped equipment” etc, but had never tried. Well, it went fine. Do I get some brownie points?
Some 30 minutes later, a hopeful estimate, I was hunting. Clear waters, my equalization was going perfect, having just taught myself Fresnel from DB Forums posters, I can even (gasp) do it in the water now. My apnea was also on really good form with great feeling and comfort level on longish dives.
The Ocean was picking up. A big, fat swell. Those waves that explode shut just in front of you throwing water backwards. I was there already, so: enjoy the dive. But already I was wondering how to get out. Incidentally, diving under a big swell does some funny things: imagine being down and equalized on the bottom, a big swell comes over and the added water height causes ear pain that requires another equalization! The swell passes and you automatically de-equalize (is that what it’s called?). All good fun.
I managed to bag, or string, three fish, perfect head shots. This will be first time I don’t have to explain fillet damage to the wife. One fish was a Vieja, Pagina nueva 1, a nice 3Kg piece, well hidden in a deep cave, backing off a little, I hit just above the eye at 45 degrees, the spear exiting though the opposite cheek. No chance of a pull out, but not a stoner shot, the Vieja pulled really hard as I dragged it 10M to the surface. I was stoked, one of my biggest fish speared to date.
After about 90 minutes, I was getting cold, had fish on my stringer, and decided to head back though the waves. I noticed that surfers had gathered of the rocky point that separates where from the beach. They were having a blast. On approaching the shore, I noticed that my wife and kids had come down to meet me.
Entering the breaker zone, I stopped to drag my float close. I didn’t want to lose those fish! On doing that: bingo – wrapped in that f….n floatline again. Tired, pis..ed off, I yanked at the damn thing and managed to drag off my mask and snorkel, just as a wave broke on me.
Now, I have taken mask and snorkel of many times in the ocean, and under the ocean, and replaced them without trouble, but the breakers messed everything up: they dragged stuff from me and down. I just managed to grab my mask, but was left holding only the snorkel mouth piece only, no tube…. The ocean was too messed up and sandy in the breakers to see where the snorkel tube had gone. Now, here was the big problem: swimming in though the current was really tough without the snorkel. My long freediving fins always feel too soft at this point of the day and this was no exception. I was going sideways fast into 2M waves dumping onto no-chance rocks. It was impossible to do “crawl style” sideways breathing as there was a 6 inch layer of foam, seaweed and crap on the ocean surface (surfers will know this problem from big days). Instead I would stop, lift my head clear of the water, breathe, and then return to face down full force paddling. It was the only way I could do move in the approximate direction of my fuzzily chosen exit point.
My wife was watching the whole show from the rocks. I (like to) think that she has seen me do so many dumb things, that this was just another, because she didn’t look worried. I signaled her to come forward, and at one point she started rolling up her trouser legs (!!!! Great buddy) but that was it. I don’t know what I had expected her to do either, jumping in would have left two people in trouble. I soon realized, as I have a few too many times before, that something from within was going to have to solve this one.
After 10 minutes like this, not advancing, I was getting really tired, and my face down swimming spurts getting shorter each time. Now, in retrospect, why didn’t I:
-Use the float to keep me up whilst swimming in?
- Drop my weight belt and other equipment and head out and round for the sandy beach?
The answer to all these is: I am too stupid! Anyone of those options, in retrospect, would have sorted the problem out. Now, let’s get real cozy and honest here: I didn’t want to lose that Vieja I had speared! How many deaths have happened under the same shabby pretext?
As you may have guessed already, using the last of my energy I did finally make it. Defeated, tired, and beaten up. I have had some sketchy moments before, but my wife had never noticed them, and of course I have never told her of them. This one she saw front-line. Two days later, she admitted: “I have never seen you so defeated before as when you came out of the water on Saturday”.
On the other hand, my grateful kids on seeing the Vieja that I had almost died to bring home shouted in unison “oh no dad, not more fish!”
Here are some pix of the day.
Safe dives..
More than a story, this is really a learning experience accelerator: to the pro’s all the bellow will be common beginner mistakes. But, here they are...
I arrived at our beach house on Saturday afternoon with one thing in mind: jumping in the Pacific. Driving down the hill, the waves on the adjoining beach looked “OK”. That is, OK if you’re a bass, or some other poor ocean creature that likes regular centrifugal dousing, like a surfer for example….
Autumn is just starting here (in Chile) and the Ocean is changing. I have always got a beating entering from the rocks in front of the house, and have learnt a lot. Having surfed also helps a lot understanding the “sets” of waves, their power, what they do, and the lulls between.
Peering from my terrace, the sandy bottom spots about 300 Meters away were showing clear. That meant great clarity. Just the weekend before, I had dived in pea soup type water. It was the first time I had dived into such murkiness, only seeing the bottom once there. I didn’t like that, neither did my apnea. I’m sure I didn’t log a dive longer than 45 seconds.
Leaping into my gear, eating a granola bar instead of lunch, it was 3pm already, and I headed out. “Too much stuff” as my wife always says. I had asked the kids (6 and 4 years) for their opinions: freediving or spearfishing?? The replied “Freediving “ in unison, as, not too modestly speaking, I have been getting quite good at spear fishing and they are getting tired of eating fish..
As usual, I paid them no attention, grabbed my gun, float and millions of other things that I need to get into rough 12 deg C water, and went.
A 200M walk and I was in the water, on my first float related struggle: the orange, soft, floaty line that came with the Buechat float sucks. No, wait, it sucks BIG time. The surf was not too high yet. I normally exit through the rocks to avoid full impact, dragging (crawling) over boulders. As I let the 18 or so meters of line out, it washed towards me, tangling the hell out of everything: around my knife, speargun etc etc. Fuming, I removed my gloves (what a pain) and unraveled the disaster. Eventually, I managed to set off. The peaks (from the front) of the breaking waves were about 1.5M at this time. Not without a struggle I pushed through, only to arrive on the back of the waves with the biggest knot-up you have ever seen.
On unraveling the knots, tugging and pulling, just behind the breakers in about 8M of water, one particularly frustrated pull released my weightbelt, you know; the too heavy spearfishing one, the one that makes you neutral at about 3M to enjoy the stealthy glide down on un-suspecting fishies. That one. I have always seen those scuba course descriptions “recovery of dropped equipment” etc, but had never tried. Well, it went fine. Do I get some brownie points?
Some 30 minutes later, a hopeful estimate, I was hunting. Clear waters, my equalization was going perfect, having just taught myself Fresnel from DB Forums posters, I can even (gasp) do it in the water now. My apnea was also on really good form with great feeling and comfort level on longish dives.
The Ocean was picking up. A big, fat swell. Those waves that explode shut just in front of you throwing water backwards. I was there already, so: enjoy the dive. But already I was wondering how to get out. Incidentally, diving under a big swell does some funny things: imagine being down and equalized on the bottom, a big swell comes over and the added water height causes ear pain that requires another equalization! The swell passes and you automatically de-equalize (is that what it’s called?). All good fun.
I managed to bag, or string, three fish, perfect head shots. This will be first time I don’t have to explain fillet damage to the wife. One fish was a Vieja, Pagina nueva 1, a nice 3Kg piece, well hidden in a deep cave, backing off a little, I hit just above the eye at 45 degrees, the spear exiting though the opposite cheek. No chance of a pull out, but not a stoner shot, the Vieja pulled really hard as I dragged it 10M to the surface. I was stoked, one of my biggest fish speared to date.
After about 90 minutes, I was getting cold, had fish on my stringer, and decided to head back though the waves. I noticed that surfers had gathered of the rocky point that separates where from the beach. They were having a blast. On approaching the shore, I noticed that my wife and kids had come down to meet me.
Entering the breaker zone, I stopped to drag my float close. I didn’t want to lose those fish! On doing that: bingo – wrapped in that f….n floatline again. Tired, pis..ed off, I yanked at the damn thing and managed to drag off my mask and snorkel, just as a wave broke on me.
Now, I have taken mask and snorkel of many times in the ocean, and under the ocean, and replaced them without trouble, but the breakers messed everything up: they dragged stuff from me and down. I just managed to grab my mask, but was left holding only the snorkel mouth piece only, no tube…. The ocean was too messed up and sandy in the breakers to see where the snorkel tube had gone. Now, here was the big problem: swimming in though the current was really tough without the snorkel. My long freediving fins always feel too soft at this point of the day and this was no exception. I was going sideways fast into 2M waves dumping onto no-chance rocks. It was impossible to do “crawl style” sideways breathing as there was a 6 inch layer of foam, seaweed and crap on the ocean surface (surfers will know this problem from big days). Instead I would stop, lift my head clear of the water, breathe, and then return to face down full force paddling. It was the only way I could do move in the approximate direction of my fuzzily chosen exit point.
My wife was watching the whole show from the rocks. I (like to) think that she has seen me do so many dumb things, that this was just another, because she didn’t look worried. I signaled her to come forward, and at one point she started rolling up her trouser legs (!!!! Great buddy) but that was it. I don’t know what I had expected her to do either, jumping in would have left two people in trouble. I soon realized, as I have a few too many times before, that something from within was going to have to solve this one.
After 10 minutes like this, not advancing, I was getting really tired, and my face down swimming spurts getting shorter each time. Now, in retrospect, why didn’t I:
-Use the float to keep me up whilst swimming in?
- Drop my weight belt and other equipment and head out and round for the sandy beach?
The answer to all these is: I am too stupid! Anyone of those options, in retrospect, would have sorted the problem out. Now, let’s get real cozy and honest here: I didn’t want to lose that Vieja I had speared! How many deaths have happened under the same shabby pretext?
As you may have guessed already, using the last of my energy I did finally make it. Defeated, tired, and beaten up. I have had some sketchy moments before, but my wife had never noticed them, and of course I have never told her of them. This one she saw front-line. Two days later, she admitted: “I have never seen you so defeated before as when you came out of the water on Saturday”.
On the other hand, my grateful kids on seeing the Vieja that I had almost died to bring home shouted in unison “oh no dad, not more fish!”
Here are some pix of the day.
Safe dives..
Attachments
Last edited:
