|
weekend report
|
barn-@tampabay.rr.com
|
Jun 16, 2003 12:37 PDT
|
FINALLY, the weather allowed us to get out and do some fun dives this past
weekend. On Saturday we motored out to the wreck of the LUBRAFOL, a Panamanian
tanker torpedoed in World War II. She now rests in 180fsw, 38 miles east of
Ponce Inlet.
There was a very gentle northward push, which was pretty much irrlevant since 8
out of 9 divers were scootering. The thermocline started at 30fsw with a hazy
water layer. On the bottom, most Uwatecs hit 64 degrees, but were still
dropping on ascent; one diver's computer registered 55 degrees. The brisk
temperatures influenced the profiles quite a bit, with most divers opting to
bug out early at around 25-30 minutes max. We had a bit of green water, with
perhaps 50 foot of visibility on the bottom. The wreck was stacked up with
lots of red snapper, as well as the flocks of AJs. Also observed were some
nice warsaws and a few fat gag. Once on the bottom, one of the divers who is
also an FBI agent and is apparently very dedicated to the job, deftly spotted a
couple of illegal aliens -- two adult lionfish (P. volitans). I moved in and
got some nice close-up footage of the exotic species before moving off to
explore the rest of the wreck. The tanker is lying hard over on her starboard
side, 95% turtled. As you move aft, the wreck is less turtled and more lying
on her starboard side. The sides of the bow are separated like a peeled
bannana, with the hawse pipes and chain disarticulated from the hull. The
masts and forward gun tubs lie off in the sand. Amidships, the hull is torn
with a large boiler spilling out from the interior. A large stern deck gun can
be found on the stern, resting in the sand, with the barrel pointing aft. The
entire wreck is fairly bare of encrustation, with just a thin coating of rust
and crud; browns were the dominant hue, randomly punctuated with a white sprig
of Oculina coral.
The interior can be penetrated easily, but I would exercise extreme caution:
Joe and I popped into one of the forward holds, and when I cast my HID up I
realized the entire upper portions of the hold had trapped an unknown quantity
of jelled oil. I was confused at first, as the light was simply sucked up by
the black substance. Upon closer examination, I could see bubbles trapped in
the goo. I did not tempt to see how solidified it was. I signalled Joe that
we should get the hell out, though he didn't understand my signals until I
explained back on the boat. I could just imagine how bumping into that muck
would really ruin your day.
The second dive was also realtively short due to the lack of anyone wanting to
put up with the cold water for very long; after about 25 minutes I had had
enough fun.
Sunday off Canaveral was even colder. There is a major upwelling going on
south of Canaveral, with the tongue of it wrapping around the Cape. Fishermen
told us the bottom bite was way off, and they could hardly mark any fish on the
bottom along the pinnacles (which usually holds thick amounts of fish). They
were also catching numbers of warsaw grouper in only 100fsw, evidence that the
fish were moving inshore to escape the cold water.
We had around 48-49 degrees below the thermocline at around 80fsw (which, like
the 30-foot thermocline on Saturday, is rather shallow); there was a nasty
water layer from 80-130 where the visibility was around 2-3 feet. We ended up
scootering down almost elbow-to-elbow so we didn't loose each other in the
soup. Busting through that you were nailed by the frigid water, but the
visibility opened up to about 70-80 feet on the bottom. We got some nice
Oculina footage that is supposed to be used for a PBS series "Ocean Science"
about the ongoing research/restoration work on Oculina Bank, but we only
spotted a random gag, angelfish, warsaw, or scamp due to the seriously cold
water on the bottom. All the normal little fish (red barbiers and roughtongue
bass) that hang out around the coral thickets were no where to be seen. The
wreck was basically barren of the typical amounts of marine life.
It was a shame to leave the bottom early, as we had plenty of gas, good vis
(though dark), and no bottom current, but after 20 minutes I could barely hold
the camera steady. On our second dive, as we were ascending through the soupy
water I kept hearing the distinct clicking noise of dolphins. I tried to
communicate "dolphin" to my buddy, but he couldn't hear their noises with his
thick hood and he kept thinking I was signalling "shark". That probably didn't
help when we were suddenly buzzed by several dolphins in the gloom that passed
within touching distance. I saw the quick moving dolphins swoop by and then
behind me so close that I could feel the pressure of their passing. They stuck
around for several minutes until we got into clearer water around 70fsw. We
could see about a half dozen large spotted dolphins playing around and jumping
on the surface, before finally moving off. The rest of the deco was occupied
with a visit by swarming almaco jacks, some bonito, a lone shark, as well as a
lengthy game of "whack a remora".
Can't wait for next weekend.
Cheers,
Mike
|
|
 |
|
