The last week has pushed the limits, so much happening, so much excitement, such happy kids! I bought an Abalone tube, preperatory to going diving with Jock and Bob. But then, last Saturday became a tad, well, stressful.

I woke early and made my way on the road. I hit Monte Rio, and the light and fog over the bridge grabbed my attention. I crossed the bridge in awe, looked at the clock, then turned round to take pictures.

I went back to the car to get my wide angle lens, and my cell phone rang. It was Heather, my dad was back in the hospital, scary scary, she was going to go down and sit with Judy, Molly had a 'work day' making sets for her play, so I needed to come back and stay with the kids. No problem! You do what you need to do. I'm 10 minutes from Jenner, can I go up and tell the guys that I can't do the dive? Sure, take a 1/2 hour even, so I went up and chatted with Jock and Bob. They were wonderfully sympathetic. Bob said that for making me miss a day's diving that my dad would owe me big time. "Bob, he didn't strangle me as a child, in spite of my deserving it, so I figure that I owe him, now and for the foreseeable futrue!" And then I returned through the now ominous fog and they went up to get limits of fat abs.

I went home, and watched the kids and worried about my Dad.

As evening arrived, it seemed that nothing would happen until Monday or so, so Heather went on with her planned trip down to visit her dad (between them they spent 40 hours on cleaning and organization!). So I was able to run the house in my own fashion. First, though, I had to pick up a six foot long sandwich and take it to Brookhaven, where the kids had a work day for The Hobbit.

Sunday they decided to remove Dad's gall bladder. This is normally a minor procedure, or so they say, but with his weakened condition and my nerves, it took on a larger significance. After more worrying, he pulled through like a champ. I was able to talk with him just after he came out. My first, perhaps less than tactful, words to him where 'thank you for not dying!"

He said "well, you're welcome."

Here is a quote, that Heather found in The Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing. "Your mortality is at optimal distance, not up so close that it obscures everything else, but close enough to give you depth perception. Previously, it has taken you weeks, months, or years to discover the meaning of an experience. Now, it's instantaneous."

But enough of that touchy feely stuff...Sunday the little kids were total angel sweet heart heathen monsters. Monday I worked at home, and got a lot done, and the rest of the week passed.

Thursday was a dive club business meeting, always a fun occaision. Bob Simpton called while I was gone. He had forgotten the meeting, but he had not forgotten diving. He talked with Heather, who thought it was fine if I went diving on Saturday morning (!).

Friday night, I was not optimistic! The swell reports were terrible. Big ugly stuff, small craft advisory, general ugly ugly! But I figured that the drive up would be nice, and what else would I be doing at 5:15 on a Saturday morning if not getting up to go diving?

Bob and I met at Jenner, and a couple of other guys. Bob has a promiscuous approach to diving. When he wants to go diving he picks up the phone and starts making calls. He will talk with dive buddies, their wives, their answering machines, for all I know he will leave messages with the family dog. "I'm going diving, meet at Jenner at 7:00 am Saturday."

He claims that this is how he used to get dates when he was younger. "I had this black book full of phone numbers, and I'd just start calling. A lot of them would say no, or hang up, but eventually someone would say yes, and then when we were out one of the ones who said no would see me, and then she would call me."

Bob is a romantic model for us all!

Well the other two guys had an inflatable, and they vanished. When we got back to the car there was a note 'Bob, sorry we missed you, hope you had a good dive.

Bob and I headed up the coast, stopped at a couple of places, and then ended up at Fisk Mill Cove, or perhaps, just North of the Fisk Mill Cove sign. The ocean was nearly flat, no whitecaps, gentle swell, maybe 2-3 feet, no wind, an all around beautiful day! I want to restate this point, in order to make a point to the individuals in the dive club who paid attention to the weather reports, and information from the 'Internet' as justification to keep themselves in bed for another few hours on a Saturday morning.

CONDITIONS WERE GREAT!

We geared up, and then hoofed it down the trail. The cove is gorgeous. A rock beach, quiet with the illusion of privacy. Bob got himself into the water and started swimming while I was still trying to figure out which fin went on which foot, but I got things sorted out and swam after. I hooked my tube to Bob's, and he hooked his to some kelp, then we started diving.

The bottom was 15 feet or so, with up to 8 feet of visibility (but not always). The key to freediving is relaxation, and there is no way to fake it. I did a few dives, and tried to relax (an oxymoron! You can't 'work' at 'relaxing!'). Ah, screw it. The upshot was that I had some stresses (working hard trying to pry abs, getting a mouthful of water, etc), but I was able to work my way through them, and ended up diving for two hours. I didn't get any abs, but I had a lot of chances, and I had a few dives in which I was able to relax enough so that I pulled myself through the kelp layer, and then pulled myself along the rock channels looking at the life. I even heard the clicking a few times.

The ocean is alive with sound, clicks and what not. On SCUBA you only hear it between breaths, the tank and regs are so loud, and freediving this was the first time I had heard it-always so wrapped up in my own nerves.

So...that was part of the excitement of the week. I'm tired of writing! My Mom and Don and Brother and Sister in law and two nephews came up, and we all saw Molly in The Hobbit


And then Sunday we went to Doran Beach.