Prater
08-14-2007, 11:17 AM
Not a spearfish trip, but wanted to share my experience.
The dive on the USS Oriskany was a wonderful day of wreck diving. I met my dive partner Jim in Pensacola, Florida where we headed to the dock with equipment. We rode out on less than one foot seas for roughly two hours to get to the dive site on the H2O Sunseeker charter boat. Jim and I were diving 32% Nitrox and decided our max depth would be 85 feet. We set our computers and then anticipated the dive. After a pre-dive lecture from the captain we geared up and strided off the stern to the swim line. The water was in the eighties with a slight surface current. We headed down the buoy line with sixty foot of visibility and at fifty feet the thermocline changed to seventy five degree giving a bit of a chill. The superstructure appeared as we descended. It was like a majestic sleeping monster with patches of grey, brown and green colors. We approached the ship from the exhaust stack and decided to explore the area in a counterclockwise pattern. We hit eighty five feet in no time as you really loose your sense of depth quickly on such a massive ship. There was a school of cobia about forty feet away from the structure with numerous reef fishes already making home among the sea urchins. Barnacles had already attached and the urchins were everywhere (I was really glad that gloves were a requirement). As we headed to the starboard side of the ship I noticed Old glory waving in the slight current, and below her was the Vietnam POW/MIA flag with the same gentle waving. It seemed as thought the flags were streaming in the tropical breezes at some distant port in her past. At seventy feet we were on top of the structure. I took the time to gentle put my fins down on the deck and stand at the highest lookout, watching the stream of other divers sink into the dark waters as they headed to the flight deck. Our profile and dive mix just would not allow us that luxury. About this time my computer let me know it was time to head to the surface. I signaled Jim and we floated back to the buoy line and up to the safety stop. After boarding our charter we had watermelon and oranges, some cheese and crackers, and a bottle of gator-aid. After our hour and fifteen minute surface interval it was time to go back down. This time the current had shifted away from the surface and picked up on the structure. Visibility had dropped to about forty feet and we kept our profile above eighty feet below sea level. The flags were flapping a bit harder this time and I could not resist swimming out to the pinnacle where they were attached. I noticed a school of Barracuda above me at the pinnacle and the jellyfish were riding the current around us. I used the current to get back to the structure and headed around the port side. I stopped to notice all the life hiding in the protective spines of the urchins. Most seemed to be yellowtail damsels but were too small to try and identify through a mask. I noticed the ladders on the port side of the structure to be twisted and broken, most likely from the mass of the ship sinking to the bottom. Once again my computer signaled it was time to leave. As I passed over the lookout I was met by a couple of Pearl-scale Butterflies dancing among the twisted bits of metal, and as fast as they appeared they equally disappeared. Back up the line we were circled by a large barracuda and surrounded by the jellies. Back on deck of the charter we had some bottled water as we started cleaning gear and getting ready for the trip back to land. As we headed back the crew started a grill and handed us hot dogs. I graciously took one and managed to find a comfortable spot among the three foot chop of the waves. The ride back in was not as comfortable as the ride out, but I managed to fall asleep buried between my two tanks using my beach towel as a pillow only to be woken in the chanel near to the dock.
The dive on the USS Oriskany was a wonderful day of wreck diving. I met my dive partner Jim in Pensacola, Florida where we headed to the dock with equipment. We rode out on less than one foot seas for roughly two hours to get to the dive site on the H2O Sunseeker charter boat. Jim and I were diving 32% Nitrox and decided our max depth would be 85 feet. We set our computers and then anticipated the dive. After a pre-dive lecture from the captain we geared up and strided off the stern to the swim line. The water was in the eighties with a slight surface current. We headed down the buoy line with sixty foot of visibility and at fifty feet the thermocline changed to seventy five degree giving a bit of a chill. The superstructure appeared as we descended. It was like a majestic sleeping monster with patches of grey, brown and green colors. We approached the ship from the exhaust stack and decided to explore the area in a counterclockwise pattern. We hit eighty five feet in no time as you really loose your sense of depth quickly on such a massive ship. There was a school of cobia about forty feet away from the structure with numerous reef fishes already making home among the sea urchins. Barnacles had already attached and the urchins were everywhere (I was really glad that gloves were a requirement). As we headed to the starboard side of the ship I noticed Old glory waving in the slight current, and below her was the Vietnam POW/MIA flag with the same gentle waving. It seemed as thought the flags were streaming in the tropical breezes at some distant port in her past. At seventy feet we were on top of the structure. I took the time to gentle put my fins down on the deck and stand at the highest lookout, watching the stream of other divers sink into the dark waters as they headed to the flight deck. Our profile and dive mix just would not allow us that luxury. About this time my computer let me know it was time to head to the surface. I signaled Jim and we floated back to the buoy line and up to the safety stop. After boarding our charter we had watermelon and oranges, some cheese and crackers, and a bottle of gator-aid. After our hour and fifteen minute surface interval it was time to go back down. This time the current had shifted away from the surface and picked up on the structure. Visibility had dropped to about forty feet and we kept our profile above eighty feet below sea level. The flags were flapping a bit harder this time and I could not resist swimming out to the pinnacle where they were attached. I noticed a school of Barracuda above me at the pinnacle and the jellyfish were riding the current around us. I used the current to get back to the structure and headed around the port side. I stopped to notice all the life hiding in the protective spines of the urchins. Most seemed to be yellowtail damsels but were too small to try and identify through a mask. I noticed the ladders on the port side of the structure to be twisted and broken, most likely from the mass of the ship sinking to the bottom. Once again my computer signaled it was time to leave. As I passed over the lookout I was met by a couple of Pearl-scale Butterflies dancing among the twisted bits of metal, and as fast as they appeared they equally disappeared. Back up the line we were circled by a large barracuda and surrounded by the jellies. Back on deck of the charter we had some bottled water as we started cleaning gear and getting ready for the trip back to land. As we headed back the crew started a grill and handed us hot dogs. I graciously took one and managed to find a comfortable spot among the three foot chop of the waves. The ride back in was not as comfortable as the ride out, but I managed to fall asleep buried between my two tanks using my beach towel as a pillow only to be woken in the chanel near to the dock.