San Francisco Reef Divers December 2016 Volume XLIV No. 12 · 2016-12-19 · San Francisco Reef...

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San Francisco Reef Divers December 2016 Volume XLIV No. 12 1 SOUTH OF THE WALL By Slip Mahoney I have just returned from another trip exploring further the caves of Mexico. I brought a ladder with me just in case I had any trouble getting back into the United States this time. This was another ”Club Bob Cave Diving Team” official dive trip. Unfortunately, another member of our group died very recently while diving. It did not happen on this trip though, but we still had the visual of an empty bed to look at as we had already booked the place. However, we have a new member, who passed probation with flying colors. But I still miss my friends very much, especially on these trips. I like to give one good cave dive story, but this trip was just great overall, every dive. There were no “snot bubble” cave dive stories to write about. I got to do a lot of solo diving on this trip, which is the absolute most fun you can have with your pants still on. Thus, I will jump around a bit in this article, but with my pants on of course. This is a photo of a local church service location, which is in a cave, obviously the dry portion. They allowed us to dive the small lake in the back of the cave. The entrance to the tunnel system is located under the light bulb behind my head, by coincidence. I am the guy on the left. The tunnel almost immediately is fully submerged. One of my favorite spots on this trip was an old cow pasture a few miles outside of Tulum. There was a well structure here which has since mostly collapsed away, only one side of the rock casing is still in existence, which helps for lowering gear and bodies. For many years, it was illegal to dive this spot. But quite frankly, this was worth the threat of a Mexican jail and I risked it countless times. But now it is legal, with a little old hombre standing nearby to collect a fee. He has cut down much of the vegetation, and we now also have access to another wet spot about a quarter mile away that we had to back country to before. Wild animals crap in the weirdest spots by the way, we continually found out during our previous cross country forages, and they set it as booby traps. I got this photo from the some other guys, floating above the remaining well structure. But I have learned the very hard way to always wear a helmet, just call me “Lumpy.” We all went solo on this dive. There is a small horizontal opening in the bottom of the small well that is tight and silty and does a little half hitch, but eventually dumps you into a stunning long hallway type of cave. I have never reached the end of this cave, it goes for thousands of feet. There are innumerable roughly sub-parallel tunnels and crawl spaces tangential to the main tunnel that lead all over. The main tunnel has a line that was left in place by one of the initial explorers, so I do not need to bring a huge multi thousand foot reel with me, I can dive with only four or five smaller reels, Continued on page 3

Transcript of San Francisco Reef Divers December 2016 Volume XLIV No. 12 · 2016-12-19 · San Francisco Reef...

Page 1: San Francisco Reef Divers December 2016 Volume XLIV No. 12 · 2016-12-19 · San Francisco Reef Divers December 2016 Volume XLIV No. 12 1 SOUTH OF THE WALL By Slip Mahoney I have

San Francisco Reef Divers December 2016 Volume XLIV No. 12

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SOUTH OF THE WALL By Slip Mahoney

I have just returned from another trip exploring further the caves of Mexico. I brought a ladder with me just in case I had any trouble getting back into the United States this time. This was another ”Club Bob Cave Diving Team” official dive trip. Unfortunately, another member of our group died very recently while diving. It did not happen on this trip though, but we still had the visual of an empty bed to look at as we had already booked the place. However, we have a new member, who passed probation with flying colors. But I still miss my friends very much, especially on these trips.

I like to give one good cave dive story, but this trip was just great overall, every dive. There were no “snot bubble” cave dive stories to write about. I got to do a lot of solo diving on this trip, which is the absolute most fun you can have with your pants still on. Thus, I will jump around a bit in this article, but with my pants on of course.

This is a photo of a local church service location, which is in a cave, obviously the dry portion. They allowed us to dive the small lake in the back of the cave. The entrance to the tunnel system is located under the light bulb behind my head, by coincidence. I am the guy on the left. The tunnel almost immediately is fully submerged.

One of my favorite spots on this trip was an old cow pasture a few miles outside of Tulum. There was a well structure here which has since mostly

collapsed away, only one side of the rock casing is still in existence, which helps for lowering gear and bodies. For many years, it was illegal to dive this spot. But quite frankly, this was worth the threat of a Mexican jail and I risked it countless times. But now it is legal, with a little old hombre standing nearby to collect a fee. He has cut down much of the vegetation, and we now also have access to another wet spot about a quarter mile away that we had to back country to before. Wild animals crap in the weirdest spots by the way, we continually found out during our previous cross country forages, and they set it as booby traps.

I got this photo from the some other guys, floating above the remaining well structure. But I have learned the very hard way to always wear a helmet, just call me “Lumpy.”

We all went solo on this dive. There is a small horizontal opening in the bottom of the small well that is tight and silty and does a little half hitch, but eventually dumps you into a stunning long hallway type of cave. I have never reached the end of this cave, it goes for thousands of feet. There are innumerable roughly sub-parallel tunnels and crawl spaces tangential to the main tunnel that lead all over. The main tunnel has a line that was left in place by one of the initial explorers, so I do not need to bring a huge multi thousand foot reel with me, I can dive with only four or five smaller reels,

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REEFER’S RAP - 2016

JANUARY

01 - New Year’s Day 20 - Movable Feast – Sunset Brewing Company

FEBRUARY

08 - Chinese New Year 13 - Sanctuary Dive Boat - K Dock 14 - Valentine’s Day 15 - President’s Day - Holiday 17 - Movable Feast - Nopalito

MARCH

12 - Sanctuary Dive Boat - K Dock 13- Daylight Savings Time 16 - Movable Feast – Pi Bar 17 - Saint Patrick’s Day

APRIL

01- Beneath the Sea - New Jersey 01 - April’s Fools 09 - Sanctuary Dive Boat - K Dock 20 - Movable Feast - Dark Horse Inn

MAY

02 - Catalina Chamber Day 18 - Movable Feast - Old Bus Tavern 30 - Memorial Day Holiday

JUNE

04 - Scuba Show - Long Beach - scubashow.com 11 - Sanctuary Dive Boat - K Dock 15 - Movable Feast Rosamunde TBD - Abalone Closer

JULY

04 - Independence Day Holiday 09 - Sanctuary Dive Boat - K Dock 20 - Movable Feast – Rosamundes

AUGUST

5 - 21 - Olympics 13 Sanctuary Dive Boat - K Dock 17- Movable Feast - Burmese Kitchen

SEPTEMBER

05 - Labor Day Holiday 18 - 20 Peace Dive Boat 21- Movable Feast - Paprika

OCTOBER

08 - Sanctuary Dive Boat - K Dock 19 - Movable Feast – Cuisine of Nepal 31 - Halloween

NOVEMBER

06- Daylight Savings Time Ends 08 - Elections 19 - Sanctuary Dive Boat - K Dock 16 - Movable Feast - Social Kitchen & Brewery 24 - Thanksgiving TBD - Abalone Closer

DECEMBER

10 - Sanctuary Dive Boat - K Dock 18 - Movable Feast - Cuisine of Nepal 3484 Mission Street / White Elephant 25 - Christmas Day

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STAMMTISCH By Pierre Hurter

November found us on our way to Australia and a rendezvous with the Spirit of Freedom. The trip started out the way most of ours do, we were picked up by a limo from Pacific Town Cars. We’ve been using them for years and are starting to think of the drivers as family. As is usually the case the Lincoln Town car showed up early, something greatly appreciated if you suffer from travel jitters, we tossed our bags into the cavernous trunk and headed for SFO.

I don’t know about you, but I find the period between leaving home and actually checking in a bit stressful. I suffer from Pre-trip Stress Syndrome (PTSS). It’s not like the old days when you just showed up minutes before the gates closed and grabbed your seat and took off. I don’t really feel relaxed until I’ve gone through security and am once again dressed, shoes and belt on, watch, wallet and miscellaneous personal items all neatly stowed where they belong. Maybe I should get a service goat to keep me calm and he or she could help schlep my carry-on baggage as well.

The worst of it is, I don’t really feel any safer than I did in the old days. I remember going through security in Maui some time back, when a TSA agent looked at my regulators and asked, “what’s this?” I note that at SFO we are once again back to

a private contractor, not TSA, sourced to the lowest bidder no doubt.

Fourteen hours and thirty-five minutes, two movies, Carl Hiassen’s latest book, Razor Girl and 7426 miles latter we arrived at Sydney International, bright eyed and bushy tailed, desperately looking for that little toothbrush kit that they handout on the flight. We had a four-hour layover, the kiss of death after a long flight but a great opportunity to check out the gift shop chachkas. I’m beginning to regret not having bought a kangaroo balls bottle opener and of course the emu jerky. Anyway after the layover it was off to Cairns, three hours and 1,226 miles north of Sydney. Australia is big, really big, with lots of people living on the coasts, not so many in the middle bits.

In Cairns we checked into our hotel, the same one we stayed in last time, though it is apparently no longer the home of the Austrian Consulate, at least I didn’t see the brass plaque. We met up with the rest of our group for dinner and a couple of beers

and then headed off to blissful oblivion until the next day.

Before leaving home we had weighed and re-weighed our bags. Have you ever noticed how those little handheld scales give you a slightly different reading every time? Quantas allows for two 50-pound bags free in Economy, plus carryon and free use of the overhead bins (United are you listening?). Our problem was that from Cairns we were heading for Lockhart River aboard a Skytrans De Haviland Dash 8. Not a “small” plane, but not a “big” one either. The weight limit was 70 pounds which sounds like a lot, but when you pile up dive gear, camera equipment, a couple of clean t-shirts and enough clothes for a week in Sydney, well it becomes a challenge.

From Lockhart Airfield, built in 1942 by the 46th US Army Engineers, it hasn’t changed much, there are still a few

airplane wrecks and plaques explaining the wartime history of the airfield. Once our bags had been unloaded we piled into a convoy of trucks and buses and headed down a dusty red clay dirt road until we literally came to the end of the road at waters edge.

We clambered aboard a couple of tenders, inflatables, from the Spirit of Freedom and headed for the mother ship. The Spirit of Freedom is 122 foot long steel

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Stammtisch from page 3

hulled boat with twin Rolls Royce diesel engines with all of the amenities you except in a modern live aboard.

We ended the first day on the sundeck with a sunset welcome drink and a rundown of our upcoming itinerary then headed down to the dive deck to check out our dive cubbies and set up our gear for the next day.

There where 22 of us onboard, of which we knew all but one person, along with a crew of 11 to keep us all feed and happy. It was a tough regimen, getup at 6:30, have a pre-brekkie, yogurt, cereal and fruit, then diving. Afterwards we would have our second brekkie, a proper presentation of bacon, baked beans, stewed tomatoes, bangers, toast and in my case Vegemite. A short break and then another dive, followed up by lunch, then another dive, some goodies to tide us over and maintain our energy, another dive and then dinner. For those who still had any energy left there was a night dive, typically a total of five dives a day.

A word about Vegemite, Vegemite is as Australian as kangaroos and Holden cars. A Vegemite sandwich is to an Australian child the equivalent of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to an American, it just tastes really different.

It’s made from leftover

brewers’ yeast extract (leftover from making beer) with some vegetable and spice additives. It’s dark reddish-brown, almost black, in color, and one of the richest sources of Vitamin B. The Australians make 22.7 million jars of Vegemite every year, that’s 235 jars per minute.

Australia also has Promite, MightyMite, OzEmite and even AussieMite, but at the end of the day or at the beginning what you want is a piece of toast slathered in butter, a liberal coating of Vegemite and a couple slices of avocado, pure bliss.

We are happy little Vegemites, as bright as bright can be,

We all enjoy our Vegemite for breakfast, lunch and tea,

Our mummy says we're growing stronger every single week,

Because we love our Vegemite, we all adore our Vegemite —

It puts a rose in every cheek!

We're growing stronger every week!

I like night dives, but having to make the choice between having a beer with dinner and foregoing the night dive, well we erred in favor of the electrolyte replenishment regimen. Since we were flying early the day after we docked we sat out a few dives on the final day, but we

still managed to log 21 of the total 28 dives.

It’s worth noting that the Spirit of Freedom only does this far north itinerary twice a year. Large parts of the trip were in the nature of explorational; we didn’t see another boat or ship until were once again south of Lockhart River. I’ll admit that there is something disconcerting about knowing that if you drift off, there won’t be anyone there to give you a lift back to the boat. We were all issued a Nautilus Lifeline radio just in case.

There was one dive, “Turmoil” that sent pretty much everyone into a topsy-turvy spin, like the rinse cycle in the washing machine. It’s the first time that I ever lost my buddy. The Super Moon combined with a tidal flow through a small gap made for the ultimate “E-ticket” ride, for a long while I had no idea which way was up or down, made for an interesting experience. Drifting in blue water trying to figure out which way is up is a sobering experience.

Aside from the diving we had a great crew and terrific food. Our chief, Rodrigo, was a master of his small galley, turning out one

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great meal after the other. Tony the skipper was jovial and ready to answer all of my questions about navigating the reef. The smile on the face of Bree, our hostess, when she did her first dive was worth the price of admission. It reminded me of why I started diving.

In all our southbound expedition offered 27 dives on 19 separate reef systems at 21 locations and travelled over 660 nautical miles (1100km/600 miles). Despite recent news reports the northern part of the Great Barrier Reef is still healthy and the diving was great.

Once back in Cairns we said goodbye to the group, grabbed our bags and headed for the airport and our flight back to Sydney. We spent a week at The Lord Nelson Inn situated in the historic Rocks district and Sydney’s oldest brew pub. The beer was great, the second floor featured a restaurant where we would have our daily breakfast and the third and fourth floors had nine rooms very nice rooms, complete with hand-hewn stone walls, it was terrific.

A side note about the Inn, I looked at TripAdvisor to see what others had to say. I love reading Yelp reviews and the like, particularly when you look up a place, business or eatery that you really like. You quickly realize that there is no place immune from criticism, there are people for whom nothing will ever be good enough. Or maybe I’m just too easy going.

That said I wasn’t to enthused when on our last morning I jumped into the shower and realized that the water was never going to heat up. It’s a classic case of denial outweighing what

your brain knows to be unfortunately inevitable. I don’t care what sort of naturopathic benefits Sebastian Kneipp, a Bavarian Monk, credited to cold water; I like my showers hot and steamy.

We had a great time, lots of good food a fair amount of beer and glorious weather with the exception of a thunderstorm when we visited the zoo. The rest of the time we ran around town in stubbies and thongs (shorts and flip flops).

According to my Fitbit we walked a little shy of 60 miles. Aside from our ferry rides to Manly Beach and the Taronga Zoo we walked everywhere. If you’re in the neighborhood, it’s a great place to spend a few days. Before you go read Bill Bryson’s In a Sunburned Country and Mark Dapin’s Strange Country. Both give a slightly quirky view of a great country. You’ll even get an insight into the great

Holden vs. Ford debate (one’s for drivers the other for wankers) and why it may no longer matter.

We came home to a San Francisco that definitely was not stubbies and thong weather. Aside from the cold weather we found a mailbox stuffed with catalogs. We came home to find a huge pile of them. Sure it’s kind of old school, but there’s something about leafing through the pages of an old fashioned printed catalogue that I find sort of appealing. One of my favorites is the Hammacher Schlemmer catalogue. They opened for business in New York City, thirteen years before the Civil War began, offering mechanic's tools and builder's hardware. They’ve changed their focus a bit since then.

This year they have no less than five personal submarines in various configurations and of course a submarine sports car. Ranging in price from a remarkably affordable $300,000 to $2 million dollars. If you are interested you had better hurry, priority shipping can get expensive.

In world news Austrian academics have chosen “Bundespräsidentenstichwahlwiederholungsverschiebung” as the country’s word of the year in recognition of the its lengthy presidential election

The 51-letter mouthful roughly translates as “Federal-President-runoff-vote-repeat-postponement”, describing the seven months of votes, court cases and delays that eventually led to Alexander Van der Bellen’s election victory. It’s good to know that we are not the

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Stammtisch from page 5

only folks who have a tough time electing our leaders.

Closer to home, our December dive began with high hopes, up at “O-Dark Thirty” we grabbed a couple of lattes or as the Aussies might say, flat whites, and headed towards Monterey through the pelting rain.

Once there, the rain backed off, but it was not an auspicious sign when Paula came walking down the dock from where the Sanctuary is moored, the boat’s generator wasn’t charging the batteries, not a good way to begin the morning. We decided to bag the dive and headed back to the City, with a stop at Any Waters to drop of our regulators for their annual servicing. There where an unusual number of wrecks on the way home, at least six. It’s always confounding to watch people get past the bumper-to-bumper traffic jam of an accident and promptly stomp on it in an effort to make up for lost time. I blame it on the lack of basic physics education in school.

That’s it for this year, looking forward to the holidays and the New Year. Hopping to see many of you in and under the water in 2017.

Not sure which New Year’s quote I like better … New Year’s Day… now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual. Mark Twain, or Good resolutions are simply checks that men draw on a bank where they have no account. Oscar Wilde. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah … all the best for the holidays and the New Year.

South of the Wall continued from page 1 500 to 100 feet or less, line markers, clothespins, clips, etc., whatever cheap piece of crap I want to trust my life to. We entered approximately ten minutes apart from each other and each headed down various side and bottom passages that he had never been down before. About a half hour into my dive, I saw a small opening below me that appeared to open up after I stuck my head down there. Thus, I tied off my reel and squeezed down the hole. After swimming/crawling a short while, I came across an existing line that someone left. Thus, I tied off my reel to this existing line and continued on. It was small and silty and went right through the halocline. The halocline is where the more buoyant fresh water is lying above, and in direct contact with, the underlying salt water. It is an area you try to avoid, either get below in the warmer and clearer salt water, or stay above in the fresh water. Disturbance of the interface causes the area to turn to milk. The halocline was directly in the middle of the two to three foot tunnel I am crawling through, and I can not see anything, but I am feeling the existing line. It is getting tighter and tighter, but I figured SOMEBODY (probably a hobbit) got through this at least once. Maybe his decaying body

is ahead for all I know. After a few hundred feet, the line ends. I am feeling for it and feel it is tied off. Crap, I have to go back through this mess. I was expecting it to eventually get back close to the main line, assuming I was absolutely positive it was the main line, which is another story, and thus, exiting on the main line. I was now in a big enough area to turn around, which has not always been the case in some areas I have been in (I have had to work off my fins somehow to be able to turn around before, not easy). I swam/crawled/pushed back out the way I came, found my reel, headed back to the main line, and saw that the forthcoming deco obligation (difficult to see gauges before because of halocline) was now about to smite me, as well as some of my favorite organs, one of which I have named. Thus, I kept to the straight and narrow and, along with my soon-to-be-smited favorite organ, hightailed it to the exit. It turns out we all had significant deco obligations, which would have been fine if we had planned for it, none assuming the deeper sections we attacked were actually that deep. We did not bring O2 and there was not a lot of space for four divers to spend that much time wedged into a small crack at the bottom of a very lousy visibility well. I am now returning and see that we are all at the exit with the

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South of the Wall from page 6

same issue. I did not relish the idea of being wedged into a small opening with three big guys (with pee infused wetsuits). Thus, after they all got through the small tunnel ahead of me, I stayed behind. It is only about 30 or 40 feet deep where I am and the tunnel is about 5 feet high. I see a crack leading up towards the surface. I know it does not reach the surface but I am hoping it gets to within 14 feet.

You ask why 14 feet, or not ask, nor care. Maybe you do not give a crap, maybe you have stopped reading this drivel by now. My deco meters are both dive rite and thus use dive rite algorithms, surprisingly. At the 10 foot requirement, they will clear one minute for one minute at 14 feet, but about 1.25 to 1.00 at 15 feet, getting even slower towards the end. Fortunately, I was still in the 10 foot deco stop requirement, just barely out of 20. I got myself real small and pushed myself up the crack. I am wedged in a crack 15 feet below ground with my mask smashed onto my nose. The wrist gauges found a smaller tiny opening above my head that I could barely reach into and got them up to 14 feet, just barely. I am not cheating the deco process. The gas mixture I had was better at deco than I set my gauges, a little bit of a safety factor I added. But if I violate deco, my gauges will lock themselves out for 48 hours. Plus, once the other guys clear out of the opening up ahead, I can get up there and flush my system a little bit more. If I decide I do not really need all the deco, I can just leave the decometers in the bottom of the well and pick them up later (tie a reel to them). I like to give myself as much deco as possible,

considering I possibly have an undiagnosed PFO that I would rather not know about.

The guys came back to investigate. They saw a pair of fins wedged up a crack, and took turns blowing bubbles up at me, silting me up. (Those bastards!) I, meantime, am thinking about my initial dive training many decades ago, wondering how I got into a situation like this, and why am I enjoying it so much.

Worth the hassle, wouldn’t you say? Not my picture, too well composed and lit.

That evening, I counted my latest cave dives, and realized I had passed a significant milestone. Most cave divers do not stay in the sport that long, either because of not liking it, too much trouble, getting very scared once or twice, or, quite frankly, biting the big one. I got toasted, roasted, vilified, and wedgied. Those bastards!

The last dive of our trip was one of the most special. It was a small hike in, but good trail. It is a shallow cave, but you can not tell by being in the cave, it is just a number on your gauges. Two of us went solo, me being one of those. About one hour into this dive, I turned early for safety. About a half hour from the exit, it starts getting a little sphincter tightening, as I am not recognizing the cave as well as I would have wanted. I had put out some reels and clips and such, trusting I could always find my way back to the main line, and I am assuming I am indeed on the main line. I am finding my lines and clips and reels and clothespins, etc., so I am good at least to somewhere near this point. But I still am concerned that it does not look familiar. So what do I do in this situation? I sing broadway showtunes in my

regulators of course. OOOOKLAHOMA, the Jets fight song from West Side Story, and the theme from Mr. Ed (not a broadway play, but obviously should have been) were sung with a bobbing of my head and snapping of fingers.

Not my picture, much too pretty for my meager talents.

There is a small tunnel leading to the exit here, as in most of these caves. It is silty and tight, but not crazy tight, mostly very low ceiling but wide. I am working my way through this and bump, literally, into one of our group coming in. We snake by each other. Just at this point, I get the mother of all hamstring cramps. There is nowhere to go, I am kicking him and silting the living snot out of the tunnel. He goes past while I try to work this puppy into submission. Later, after we hiked out to the cars, I explained to him what happened. He thought I was kicking him on purpose to be a wiseass.

This diver is approaching the exit, not my picture but the actual lighting is more accurate. This is more like what a diver sees, not the slave strobe infused photos you normally see.

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This was another site. I am in e tunnel below the guys, not wanting to come out yet. I had plenty of gas and there are bones near the exit that are pretty cool to look at. They never cared

about me, certainly not enough to go back to check, especially since lunch was in the cars. I crawl out later and find that all the cookies are gone. Those bastards! This may sound hypocritical coming from me, but be safe boys and girls.

LETTER TO THE EDITOR Dear Divers … (From Philip Sammet and Brian Nelson, the Diving members of the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary Advisory Council) At our last meeting in Cambria a letter of support was discussed in August about the nomination process of Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary as a component of a World Heritage Site. A World Heritage designation status is defined as: a natural or man-made site, area, or structure recognized as being of outstanding international importance and therefore as deserving special protection. Sites are nominated to and designated by the World Heritage Convention (an organization of UNESCO). The proposed letter of support did not receive a majority vote in favor by the council at the meeting in Cambria. Different points of views were brought up, some sighted concerns about additional tourism could be problematic for the resource load, others were concerned about additional use restrictions. It will again be discussed at the December 8th AC meeting here in Monterey. If you plan to attend please let us know you are in the audience for your input. Please also check out the attached article from the presentation given by Bill Douros, ONMS West Coast Regional Director at the August AC meeting. Below there is also a link to the World Heritage Website. We would appreciate your thoughts either way. Happy Holidays, Brian and Phil Prepared by Brian and Phil, Sanctuary Advisory Council Diving Representatives

Once again You are There, the time is December 1996, here are some of the highlights of Volume 29 No. XII of The Reef Diver Times, Newsletter of the San Francisco Reef Divers. For those of you wondering how this is possible, you need only remember Mr. Peabody of Rocky and His Friends and The Bullwinkle Show. As you may recall, Mr. Peabody, is a beagle and the smartest being in existence. A Nobel laureate,

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Olympic medalist, scientist and inventor, despite his many accomplishments, he is lonely. So, he decides to adopt. He meets Sherman a dorky, bespectacled, red-haired boy. After saving Sherman from a group of bullies, Peabody discovers that Sherman is an orphan and decides to adopt him. After a court appearance and a talk with the President, Peabody becomes Sherman's new guardian. As a birthday gift for Sherman, Peabody invents the WABAC (Wayback) time machine. He and Sherman go back in time to see a Roman speaking in Latin; Peabody adds a translator circuit to the machine so that everyone seems to speak English. Their next trip is to see Ben Franklin flying his kite and discovering electricity, but Peabody and Sherman realize that they cannot interact or change the past. Peabody makes some more adjustments, turning the WABAC into a "should-have-been machine". That brings us to where we are now … Reef Rap Tues. Dec. 17, Reef Diver Christmas party. The White Elephant gift exchange has been reinstated. Dig out all those odd gifts you’ve been aching to get rid of, or procure some fiendishly clever new ones. I must be slipping folks for I am not sure if Demie is running this event. Tues. Dec. 24, Christmas Eve Paddle with Jim Vallario. Cheer up with Jim (Fifteen Fingers) Vallario. Scrooges will be cheerfully keelhauled and then gift-wrapped. Call him. Wednesday January 1, 1997 Point Lobos. Our Lame Duck President will be at Point Lobos to lead the last dive of his reign. There will be a “I’m Not a Crook” speech before this diver just to warm everyone up. There are still 3 places left. Saturday, January 18, U. S. Abalone Tour. In Davenport. Call Pam Radkey or Sigrid Schafmann to attend this enlightened tour. Meet at Break Water in Monterey at 9:00AM. Later that day we meet at U.S, Abalone in Davenport at 1:30PM. This tour was originally scheduled for January 18th. It has been moved to the 25th to accommodated the REEF DIVERS. Sunday, January 26, Super Bowl Party At Bill Galarneau’s. Call him to arrange for an installment plan on seats in the front row. Friday, January 31, Ski Trip. We Be Skiing Pam Radkey is coordinating this event. See enclosed advertisement elsewhere in this newsletter for details. Long Shore Currents Friday, Feb. 21 President’s Day Dive. On The Cypress Sea Ex-President Jim “Carter” Radkey has reserved the Cypress Sea for his favorite cabinet cronies and sycophants. Call him. Saturday, April 19 Cypress Sea Trip. Call Sigrid Schafmann. Thursday thru Saturday July 31 thru August 2 Channel Isles!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pentagon Confirms Russian Nuclear Delivery Drone

The Pentagon has confirmed that Russia has a nuclear delivery drone. The undersea drone, which carries a nuclear warhead, is designed to destroy

coastal cities and military base.

Russia calls the system "Ocean Multipurpose System 'Status-6," and it is allegedly capable of traveling underwater to distances of to 6,200 miles. It can submerge to depths of 3,280 feet and travel at

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speeds of up to 56 knots.

U.S. intelligence agencies estimate Status-6 will carry a multi-megaton thermonuclear bomb payload. For comparison, the bomb dropped on Hiroshima was 16 kilotons. A one-megaton bomb is the equivalent of 1,000 kilotons or one million tons of TNT. Reports from Russia indicate the bomb could be as large as 100 megatons.

Sea Shepard Launches Annual Anti-whaling Campaign

Sea Shepherd has two vessels on their way to the Southern Ocean to intercept the Japanese whaling fleet in a bid stop them killing Minke whales.

The organization's flagship vessel the Steve Irwin departed Saturday from Melbourne, followed by its fast new patrol vessel the Ocean Warrior, which departed from Hobart, Tasmania, on Sunday.

The Japanese whaling fleet left Japan on November 18, and reportedly has set itself a quota for 333 Minke whales.

The two Sea Shepherd vessels are carrying a total of 50 crewmembers from eight different countries: Australia, Germany, France, UK, Austria, Spain, Canada and the United States.

The International Court of Justice rejected Japan’s “scientific research” program used to justify the killing of whales in a 2014 decision.

The court ruled by 12 votes to four against Japan,

and ordered it to revoke scientific permits issued under the program. At the time, the Japanese government told United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon that the court's jurisdiction “does not apply to ... any dispute arising out of, concerning, or relating to research on, or conservation, management or exploitation of, living resources of the sea.”

Australia won the International Court of Justice case against Japan, but there seems to be some tension between the governments trade deals with Japan and the fate of the whales.

Mexico plans to capture and protect remaining vaquita porpoises

The number of Mexico's remaining vaquita porpoises has convinced the international committee to protect the endangered species to catch as many as it can in a last-ditch effort to save them from extinction.

Estimates are that only about three-dozen of the world's smallest porpoise remain in the upper Gulf

of California. With population numbers falling by 40 percent annually there may now be as few as eight breeding females left.

Catch-and-enclose is risky; the few remaining females could die during capture, dooming the species. Breeding in captivity has successfully saved species such as the red wolf and California condor. But the vaquita has only been scientifically described since the 1950s and has never been bred or even held in captivity.

Fishermen lured by Chinese demand for the totoaba a fish that swims in the same waters have apparently defeated Mexico's efforts to protect the vaquita in its natural habitat. Experts also worry

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about that if the vaquita is removed, local fishermen who can earn thousands of dollars illegally catching the totoaba fish, whose swim bladder is a prized

delicacy in China, may descend in droves and finish off the totoaba and other species.

Woman’s Dry Suit For Sale I am in the midst of selling my dry suit. It's a Women's Pinnacle Black Ice Size XS. I made a mistake of buying it online and trusting the sizing chart (Lesson learned). Brand-new it costs almost $1900.

I'm selling it for $250. I would recommend the woman/man be less than 5' 2" and about 115-120lbs or less. If they want to try it on, we can meet at a dive shop and they can also test the inflator hose. They will have to provide their own oxygen tank. For more information contact Natalie Yuan (Reef Diver) at … [email protected]

SINCE JANUARY 1ST 1973 ABOUT SAN FRANCISCO REEF DIVERS (SFRD):

The Reef Diver Times is the official newsletter of the San Francisco Reef Divers, a not for profit community organization dedicated to safe sport diving and the preservation of our ocean resources.

Membership is $25 annually, dues payable to “SFRD”. The General Meeting is held the 3rd Wednesday of the month. Location is announced one week prior to the meeting. Please check our yahoo site for details http://groups.yahoo.com/group/sfreefdivers/ We meet at 7:00pm for socializing, drinks, food and club

business. For more information, visit http://www.sfreefdivers.org or our Facebook page.

SAN FRANCISCO REEF DIVERS

Reef Diver Times C/O Gerda Hurter

515 Diamond Street San Francisco, CA 94114