Waaaay back before a goodly portion of you DB types were born, you used to see bumperstickers on the rear of VW's asking, "What if they gave a war and nobody came?" Fast forward some thirtyfive years and you might see a rather large Ford truck displaying the sticker, "What if they gave an AB Grab and nobody showed?" The times they are a-changin.
The call went out to twenty or so DB members in good standing, Keyz Kraze vets and general local lowlifes and the response trickled in with the requisite bogus excuses of no importance such as, recent marriages, recent births, recent job hires/losses, not being able to get off work, the wife or the couch, and my favorite, the no-return-da-call.
And so with the hefty deposit already sent, the food bought and the truck and the blonde warmed up, yours truly toodled up to the Land of Your and sat and waited for two attendees.
Yeah. Two. :head
Happily those two were in the form of DB's OceanSwimmer, Cynthia and her male accessory, Volker, of San Diego Freedivers fame. At least I wasn't ging to be saddled with someone that didn't know what they were in for, Cynthia having survived last year and der Volker having spent some time up here in his young past. And would'nt ya know that the weather that had been dumping the past three days opened up and the Sun Surf and Sand shone? See, those little blue squares over there work!
We had occasion to dive a couple of spots, the first being an easy beach entry to an easy bottom accessed by an easy kick to the bottom easily seen some 10-20 feet below, where the abalone were already taking their ease. Easy huh?
Volker decided to let me keep an eye on Cynthia and went off to show the Sultan who was boss, which was fine, as the place I sent him to look didn't amount to shit. rofl And so Cynthia proceeded to develop a clearer understanding of the differences in weighting oneself when that self is in a 7 mil from a 5 mil. And that the ab iron is to be used much like a lover's kiss and less a stake to heart of a vampire. :blackeye Poor things never knew what hit 'em. Her first and personal best. Whatta gal. Volker got a couple nice ones too, almost as large as mine. heh heh heh... there are advantages to being a local.
We gathered enough massive mollusk for that evening, a good thing as the B.O.B., (Blonde on the Beach) can motor through abalone much like Patton on his way to meet Montgomery. It's like I never feed her or something...
That evening saw us at the table for twelve with enough food for 18, but don't ask me where the leftovers went. urp. Damn shame about those ab won tons though, friggin electric ovens...
The morn dawned sunny and calmer than the previous couple days allowing us to jump off the rocks to an area I had spent some time in doing the Nationals thing- GPS-ing and feeding the little buggers, but even then, nobody needed nuthin in the way of help. Volker determined to outdo himself went over there where I pointed and Cynthia and I set about to enjoy her newfound appreciation of an additional 7 pounds and the kid just dove and dove and dove. She did too. Not only eclipsing her PB but garnering her first limit of three, these things weren't only alve, but they were big! she slayed 'em I tell ya!:ko
I went off to see what part of the Northern California coast der Volkster was in and met him on his way back to his float with him gleefully declaring that he thought he had a ten-incher. I smiled inwardly that even though we had just met the day before, he already knew my favorite line to use with unwed Mothers. :inlove
We went back and after experiencing that joyous ballet that is the rock exit aided by surf and swell, the V-man unsheathed the snail and lo and behold, the guy pulled it off- his first ten. :king Who knows how to point 'em out eh? Cynthia was heard muttering something about that being the only thing ten inches and something about she getting hers first but nevermind...
And just like that, the event that never was, was over. Stuffed, relaxed from hot tub statics and with a trunk heavy with gear and abalone, the sole two attendees that manned-up and showed, drove back to the sunny climes and warmer waters of So Cal where they don't have this stuff. At all.
You missed out, folks.
* note- those of you readers out there that are just dying to see the photos of the abalone, the shoreline, the sunset and me and the blonde in various stages of undress in the hot tub are going to be bummed. Well not as bummed as the blonde, whose camera containing the evidence of the dive and other entries was stolen that next day during a biz trip. But all you need to do is answer the call next September to experience all that is AB GRAB and smooth.
The call went out to twenty or so DB members in good standing, Keyz Kraze vets and general local lowlifes and the response trickled in with the requisite bogus excuses of no importance such as, recent marriages, recent births, recent job hires/losses, not being able to get off work, the wife or the couch, and my favorite, the no-return-da-call.
And so with the hefty deposit already sent, the food bought and the truck and the blonde warmed up, yours truly toodled up to the Land of Your and sat and waited for two attendees.
Yeah. Two. :head
Happily those two were in the form of DB's OceanSwimmer, Cynthia and her male accessory, Volker, of San Diego Freedivers fame. At least I wasn't ging to be saddled with someone that didn't know what they were in for, Cynthia having survived last year and der Volker having spent some time up here in his young past. And would'nt ya know that the weather that had been dumping the past three days opened up and the Sun Surf and Sand shone? See, those little blue squares over there work!
We had occasion to dive a couple of spots, the first being an easy beach entry to an easy bottom accessed by an easy kick to the bottom easily seen some 10-20 feet below, where the abalone were already taking their ease. Easy huh?
Volker decided to let me keep an eye on Cynthia and went off to show the Sultan who was boss, which was fine, as the place I sent him to look didn't amount to shit. rofl And so Cynthia proceeded to develop a clearer understanding of the differences in weighting oneself when that self is in a 7 mil from a 5 mil. And that the ab iron is to be used much like a lover's kiss and less a stake to heart of a vampire. :blackeye Poor things never knew what hit 'em. Her first and personal best. Whatta gal. Volker got a couple nice ones too, almost as large as mine. heh heh heh... there are advantages to being a local.
We gathered enough massive mollusk for that evening, a good thing as the B.O.B., (Blonde on the Beach) can motor through abalone much like Patton on his way to meet Montgomery.
It's like I never feed her or something...That evening saw us at the table for twelve with enough food for 18, but don't ask me where the leftovers went. urp.
Damn shame about those ab won tons though, friggin electric ovens...The morn dawned sunny and calmer than the previous couple days allowing us to jump off the rocks to an area I had spent some time in doing the Nationals thing- GPS-ing and feeding the little buggers, but even then, nobody needed nuthin in the way of help. Volker determined to outdo himself went over there where I pointed and Cynthia and I set about to enjoy her newfound appreciation of an additional 7 pounds and the kid just dove and dove and dove. She did too. Not only eclipsing her PB but garnering her first limit of three, these things weren't only alve, but they were big! she slayed 'em I tell ya!:ko
I went off to see what part of the Northern California coast der Volkster was in and met him on his way back to his float with him gleefully declaring that he thought he had a ten-incher. I smiled inwardly that even though we had just met the day before, he already knew my favorite line to use with unwed Mothers. :inlove
We went back and after experiencing that joyous ballet that is the rock exit aided by surf and swell, the V-man unsheathed the snail and lo and behold, the guy pulled it off- his first ten. :king Who knows how to point 'em out eh? Cynthia was heard muttering something about that being the only thing ten inches and something about she getting hers first but nevermind...
And just like that, the event that never was, was over. Stuffed, relaxed from hot tub statics and with a trunk heavy with gear and abalone, the sole two attendees that manned-up and showed, drove back to the sunny climes and warmer waters of So Cal where they don't have this stuff. At all.
You missed out, folks.
* note- those of you readers out there that are just dying to see the photos of the abalone, the shoreline, the sunset and me and the blonde in various stages of undress in the hot tub are going to be bummed. Well not as bummed as the blonde, whose camera containing the evidence of the dive and other entries was stolen that next day during a biz trip. But all you need to do is answer the call next September to experience all that is AB GRAB and smooth.
