The monkey made me do it

Aquatic attacks and the new year

Yesterday morning 4 friends and I decided to send the year off with a bang (a chilly, damp bang) by hopping in the Puget Sound and poking around for a couple hours. That sounds like far less fun than it actually was...

What should have tipped me off about the coming adventure was how much the other divers in the parking lot were talking about nesting fish. Yes, there were many other crazy people out there (Edmonds Underwater Park) even at the end of December and yes, fish nest. Fish are not sociable when they nest. Fish are generally unsociable year-round, but their normal behavior is sitting around eyeing intruders warily so I didn't really think much of the chatter. I've also mentioned this before, but the fish in Edmonds are in a protected marine sanctuary and can reach lengths of 6+ feet.

Oh boy.

The five of us split into a couple groups once we got out in the water, since the surface swim is a long one and two of the guys were new to the sport and getting winded. Myself, a beginner girl (L), and a very experienced guy (D) kept kicking and went out to one of the farther buoys (I have pics of the site - there are buoys marking the underwater features sprinkled all over the water - but my photo hosting site is down right now. Will add later) and submerged to find one of the larger wrecks. The cabezon were everywhere, eyeing us with their giant, bulging heads and flaring their spiked fins when they felt we got too close. The laid-back ling cod lounged on the edge of the prow and hid in the kelp, spooking every now and then but mostly appearing to be in hibernation mode. Visibility was good, and after a lap around the boat (it was gorgeous! Must go back soon) we headed down one of the "streets" made of submerged, kelp-coated cables that bisect the park. I was in the lead and taking my time, checking out the random sculptures that litter the sand and the fish that inhabited them.

We came across a loose teepee made from giant poles and cement tubes, and I swam blithely through one of the holes made by an outer leg. That was our downfall. The good will that had previously been extended to us by the finned and flippered inhabitants went completely out the window and I found that I had a 3'-0" cabezon determined to head-butt me into oblivion. I whirled and dodged, but it flared its orange speckled fins and followed me through every move. My compadres circled around the melee until finally I was far enough away from the nest to cause the mother/father/great-uncle/??? (they're fish, it's hard to tell) to return to the babes.

Winded from the fight, though excited to find that it IS in face possible to say "holy crap" with a regulator in your mouth, I swam to catch up to my buddies and found myself in the lead again (they swear it was accidental). Suddenly there was a purple flash, and I was being paced by a 4-5'-0" long ling cod. Its head swung toward me, and I remembered the people in the parking lot telling us that ling cod bite pretty hard (I'd only known about the head-butting previously). My arm flung out in its direction but it didn't swerve an inch, so I flared my fin-brakes and stuck my foot in its face, thinking that's the only thing I was willing to sacrifice to a cod bite. Keep in mind that it's impossible to move quickly underwater (particularly with a 7mm double layer wetsuit on), so this came remarkably close to being a blow-by-blow reenactment of the slow-mo fight scenes in "The Matrix", except with a human/neoprene sausage and a giant purple fish. It circled and lunged again, I flipped and kicked, it dodged and snapped, and finally I made solid contact with my rubber split fin on its side and it retreated enough for me to sprint off to hide behind L and D (L said she used up probably half her tank hyperventilating, thinking I'd be eaten by a cod).

We flew towards the shore, staying clear of all structures. When air ran low we surfaced and prepared to kick the rest of the way on our backs, hoping that the fish would stay low and close to their nests. We weren't on the surface for five minutes when D suddenly yelled at me to look out, and I spun to see the grey whiskered face of a Harbor Seal swimming about 3 feet away from me (I wasn't even in the lead this time!). I assumed ninja position but it kept heading out to sea, apparently unimpressed.

My heart was beating a million thumps a minute and we kept a 360-degree watch until we reached the shoreline and staggered up on the rocky beach. Hot cider and cookies relaxed things a bit, but both of my partners decided to call it a day after that dive (it was also just a tad bit cold). I did a second dive with the other two fellas even though my lips were blue, but apparently the cod memory is a short one. We were eyed but not attacked, and explored in peace even after I dared take an errant golf ball off the sea floor and flipped over a hermit crab (yes, I flipped him back).

What a great way to send off an exciting year!
Happy 2007, all.
Here's hoping that all are protected from cod fury in the new year.

posted by LadyJay @ 2:07 PM