B
bluh2o
Guest
Here Apneaboy, this is new, I think....
I used to race down the street on a rusty bike in my wetsuit to get to the ocean, simultaneously holding a catch bag, fins, mask, snorkel, a three prong spear and the handle bars. As if the ocean might go away since the last time I saw it. More than once, wound in enthusiasm I inadvertently speared my front tire flat before actually getting to the water. The other day as my buddy and I suited up to dive something he did reminded me of that.
I was sitting in the water just about to spit in my mask, we had all but finished the ritual of getting our gear on and ready when Joe says “Your not gonna believe this, I forgot my weight belt.” I thought, “No, I’ll believe it ‘cause I’ve done it before. Even put my wetsuit on inside out and backwards a couple of times.” It was like old times.
I thought a minute. “Well I’ve used rocks and sand filled socks and even bricks from a seawall before.” Then I remembered the tools in my truck. I told him, “Look in my tool box.'" He came back grinning with my biggest pipe wrench “Where’m I gonna put it?”
We were slipping into the ocean between back to back winter swells and a short spell of variable winds that left the water uncharacteristically glassy and calm. We kicked out over shallow reef to a long channel wall. The first dive down the face of the wall to about the forty-foot level revealed clear blue ocean.
Joe and I had only dove a couple of times together so we were still telling each other our rehashed fish tales and shark stories. He mentioned the resident White Tips off this particular wall and I one upped him with my old one about watching them take fish right off my spear before I could even get it to the surface. There are sharks in this fishing story but don’t worry, it won’t turn into a scary shark story. Are you kidding? Using a White Tip in a shark story would be like bringing a knife to a gunfight. I'm just clueing you into the area’s activity.
As we marveled at the clear water I dropped to the bottom, lined up on a “Mu” and poked him. The activity woke the “Home team”. Joe was watching them from the surface. He said both sharks were laying under a ledge at the base of the wall and the moment my spear thwacked the fish they launched like a couple of deployed fighter jets from Hickam AFB. I’d expected as much as I kicked to the surface. I pulled quickly on my line and rushed the fish into shallower water to put it into the sealed dive bag. With the blood out of the water I reloaded and kicked back out over the wall to watch the pair of six foot sharks draw graceful curves over the reef and through the water below.
With our cover generally blown by noise of the first catch we gave up on the prospect of finding Ulua and drifted out looking for less skittish prey. The sharks must have been low on fuel because they calmed down quickly and went back to sit in their hangar. In front of them hovering twenty feet above the bottom were two gliding eagle rays and in their shadows hid more Mu. We took turns dropping down and trying to wait out the Mu. Joe was doing a heroic job of getting to the bottom with just a large pipe wrench stuck in his pants to weight him down. Mu are the most maddening fish to stalk. They get your hopes up because they’ll stick around instead of bolting at the sight of you. They hang just out of reach of the spear and very slowly come closer as you sit on the bottom and run out of oxygen. Then just when they’re sure you’re completely out of air and turning blue and you’re about to pull the trigger they back off just a few inches. Over and over they’ll do that until you swim away disgusted with them.
We like the Mu because they’re principal diet is crab, lobster and shell fish which makes them taste great and keeps them free of Cigquatera toxins (as far as I know). As we toyed with the Mu or rather they toyed with us I moved the anchor of my dive bag. I swam with it bobbing up and down just off the bottom and noticed a pair of Uku race in to investigate. I sank to the bottom and waited. In front of me was the liquid screen of the ocean, shafts of light illuminating particles of dust, shadows descending from the surface irregularities above. Then not so much swimming through it but forming out of the blues and grays appeared the Uku’, one big fat one and a smaller partner. They were on their way over to see me when our friendly neighborhood sharks swam passed my right shoulder and began their own hunt. It appeared as if they liked Uku as much as we did! They chased them around in circles and made a feeble attempt at bolting for them. They even showed their teeth once, probably more out of frustration than anything.
I was thinking, “No way guys, you’re too slow, plus I saw them first.”
I came up and Joe and I took turns dropping down and stalking. After a few descents the sharks went back to base and for a while we couldn’t find our targets. Then on one of my turns the Uku returned and came into the strike zone. The spear snapped, hit the bigger one and I was pulling quickly for the surface, bending my long fins nearly in half with the effort. The Sharks were swirling around us even before I made it up. Joe, who had heard the spear fire met us half way and bullied them away from my prey. If not for his quick work running interference they surely would have gotten a bite or two out of a nice fish. We guessed it’s weight at 15 pounds or so but we weren't going go looking for a scale, filleting it on the rocks so we could each take home a few fresh meals was the real priority. It was a fair contest too, Home 0 Visitors 2.
I used to race down the street on a rusty bike in my wetsuit to get to the ocean, simultaneously holding a catch bag, fins, mask, snorkel, a three prong spear and the handle bars. As if the ocean might go away since the last time I saw it. More than once, wound in enthusiasm I inadvertently speared my front tire flat before actually getting to the water. The other day as my buddy and I suited up to dive something he did reminded me of that.
I was sitting in the water just about to spit in my mask, we had all but finished the ritual of getting our gear on and ready when Joe says “Your not gonna believe this, I forgot my weight belt.” I thought, “No, I’ll believe it ‘cause I’ve done it before. Even put my wetsuit on inside out and backwards a couple of times.” It was like old times.
I thought a minute. “Well I’ve used rocks and sand filled socks and even bricks from a seawall before.” Then I remembered the tools in my truck. I told him, “Look in my tool box.'" He came back grinning with my biggest pipe wrench “Where’m I gonna put it?”
We were slipping into the ocean between back to back winter swells and a short spell of variable winds that left the water uncharacteristically glassy and calm. We kicked out over shallow reef to a long channel wall. The first dive down the face of the wall to about the forty-foot level revealed clear blue ocean.
Joe and I had only dove a couple of times together so we were still telling each other our rehashed fish tales and shark stories. He mentioned the resident White Tips off this particular wall and I one upped him with my old one about watching them take fish right off my spear before I could even get it to the surface. There are sharks in this fishing story but don’t worry, it won’t turn into a scary shark story. Are you kidding? Using a White Tip in a shark story would be like bringing a knife to a gunfight. I'm just clueing you into the area’s activity.
As we marveled at the clear water I dropped to the bottom, lined up on a “Mu” and poked him. The activity woke the “Home team”. Joe was watching them from the surface. He said both sharks were laying under a ledge at the base of the wall and the moment my spear thwacked the fish they launched like a couple of deployed fighter jets from Hickam AFB. I’d expected as much as I kicked to the surface. I pulled quickly on my line and rushed the fish into shallower water to put it into the sealed dive bag. With the blood out of the water I reloaded and kicked back out over the wall to watch the pair of six foot sharks draw graceful curves over the reef and through the water below.
With our cover generally blown by noise of the first catch we gave up on the prospect of finding Ulua and drifted out looking for less skittish prey. The sharks must have been low on fuel because they calmed down quickly and went back to sit in their hangar. In front of them hovering twenty feet above the bottom were two gliding eagle rays and in their shadows hid more Mu. We took turns dropping down and trying to wait out the Mu. Joe was doing a heroic job of getting to the bottom with just a large pipe wrench stuck in his pants to weight him down. Mu are the most maddening fish to stalk. They get your hopes up because they’ll stick around instead of bolting at the sight of you. They hang just out of reach of the spear and very slowly come closer as you sit on the bottom and run out of oxygen. Then just when they’re sure you’re completely out of air and turning blue and you’re about to pull the trigger they back off just a few inches. Over and over they’ll do that until you swim away disgusted with them.
We like the Mu because they’re principal diet is crab, lobster and shell fish which makes them taste great and keeps them free of Cigquatera toxins (as far as I know). As we toyed with the Mu or rather they toyed with us I moved the anchor of my dive bag. I swam with it bobbing up and down just off the bottom and noticed a pair of Uku race in to investigate. I sank to the bottom and waited. In front of me was the liquid screen of the ocean, shafts of light illuminating particles of dust, shadows descending from the surface irregularities above. Then not so much swimming through it but forming out of the blues and grays appeared the Uku’, one big fat one and a smaller partner. They were on their way over to see me when our friendly neighborhood sharks swam passed my right shoulder and began their own hunt. It appeared as if they liked Uku as much as we did! They chased them around in circles and made a feeble attempt at bolting for them. They even showed their teeth once, probably more out of frustration than anything.
I was thinking, “No way guys, you’re too slow, plus I saw them first.”
I came up and Joe and I took turns dropping down and stalking. After a few descents the sharks went back to base and for a while we couldn’t find our targets. Then on one of my turns the Uku returned and came into the strike zone. The spear snapped, hit the bigger one and I was pulling quickly for the surface, bending my long fins nearly in half with the effort. The Sharks were swirling around us even before I made it up. Joe, who had heard the spear fire met us half way and bullied them away from my prey. If not for his quick work running interference they surely would have gotten a bite or two out of a nice fish. We guessed it’s weight at 15 pounds or so but we weren't going go looking for a scale, filleting it on the rocks so we could each take home a few fresh meals was the real priority. It was a fair contest too, Home 0 Visitors 2.
