“You’re smarter than your material”...is that a compliment?
Down to the sea...where one finds oneself in situations never envisioned. No day is like another in an identical sense. There is no same-shit-new-day, no complacent phone-it-in. The ocean is a giant reservoir of metaphor...a rich crucible on which sharpness and utility are honed fine, or not. Many come, few stay...those that do stay are changed. The transition from one to the other first goes through the prism of life, death, wind, wave, ebb and flow...and the separation of what was into it’s constituent parts leaves the less able without resource...they go back, not defeated but knowing limits. A bonus that cuts both ways...
Whither are you...? For the organized mind, the controllers of the world a lesson in true power and powerlessness, the razor thin line that cuts if you stand still or throws you off like an icy sidewalk...for the complacent dreamer who would tilt at the vast blue windmill with expectation...disappointment.
Decisions made based on wildly dynamic and changing forces so powerful that sometimes my blood is thinned by adrenaline to a point hardly bearable...and my face belies nothing of the stress..not a flinch. A huge wave, too close on the heels of the one before and precious little time to prepare...and more to follow...human beings onboard with no real understanding of this, middle aged, not in the best physical condition but flush with disposable income and heads full of Discovery Channel-Dive Magazine dreams of the undersea world meeting mother ocean in a way they never could have dreamed. Fears faced down by some and defeated...fear faced by others and they cannot bear the burden of it.
All true...all. Connecting with all those who went before me I can easily put myself into their shoes and I too am changed by the experiences...in ways that might seem hard for a groundpounder to understand. But everything is now gauged against that daily lesson. Things that once seemed so important, so difficult, unsolvable...fade away and gain a new place in the order of “things to do”...the power of silence, acceptance, wind, water, wave...and the insane wild-card of human desire that would confront the deep blue sea with ludicrous expectation and ignorance...oh well, everyone has a first day, right?
Love the nature shows...the biology and evolution on islands and such. One thing I note: there is not much on the evolution and importance of....plants. Animals? Oh HELL ya there are animal shows and series. But a focus on plants...almost zip.
The “free market” is a “perfect animal”...and it just crapped on the living room floor
The life of a scuba instructor? Well...between jobs as a bartender or server (some here have 2-3 of these) you teach a class. The pay is shameful...but knowing that going in the blame always falls on...well.
You...the hopeful dreamer
Competition for the few fulltime jobs or staff positions is unbelievable. There is an endless supply of unintentional “scabs” who eagerly work, sadly, for nothing at all. No pay. Seriously...is that not at least a metaphorical immigrant problem?
And other instructors, ironically, teach these individuals how to replace them. The agencies, in particular PADI (by far the largest) seems to have IDC (instructor development courses) centers every 20 feet in Key Largo churning out instructors and divemasters...a glut. Of course they know it. Worse...one dive op here has raised sexual harassment and illegal labor practices to an arrogant height...interns. Young...a statistically impossible tilt toward blond, thin females, as if “someone” were cherry picking. As if? I meant BECAUSE someone is cherry picking. These kids come here and drop 3500$ to get a career going....they mate the boats, lift all the tanks, work and produce a profit for the company. They are not paid one thin dime. This “business model”...has more sordid stories of exploitation and illegal activity than I have time to relate. As it is designed, perhaps legal...but as it is implemented? I truly hope it is not legal to do this... And PADI? I will refrain from profanity. But let us be crystal clear: Fully aware.
I would hope that the agencies like PADI would push for a more stable scuba industry...to encourage dive centers to put instructor/guides on every dive boat in Key Largo...that the local dive ops would cooperate for the general safety of the divers. Guided dives...dives where an instructor is in the water are so much more likely to produce positive experiences that the future course of Snappy Banter would be seriously affected..
Ironically...the 3rd world already does this. Almost nowhere but here do tropical dive ops put thousands of people into the water and hope for the best. So many times here I have advocated for guided dives. It is a no brainer, kind readers. It elevates instructors into a living wage category...it allows for far less chance of a rescue or casualty, and of course, some divers will opt out and dive on their own...but guided dives are clearly the wave of our future here. Safety and comfort...positive experiences with scuba, especially in the early learning phases
A stable group of instructors, divemasters, crew with deep local experience? I look forward to that day...the economics of this would result in a rise in the price of the dive...say $10?
The sometimes jarring shock of one unnecessary panic incident after another...of people with no clue getting into terrible trouble and then quitting this wonderful sport altogether, seems of no consequence to the vast PADI empire...they don’t care. Because they know that there will be another in line to “live the dream”, willing to work for nothing in the hope they can displace someone else. Strange...just disturbing, in my humble opinion. How would you feel if somebody came to YOUR job and shadowed you all day in order to take your job by working for far less (or nothing)???
A summation; PADI, SSI, NAUI...standards have been reduced. Difficulties with newly certified people, including 10 year olds, are almost unbelievable, kind readers, and you who suffer through my endless supply of anecdotes and ranty judgement surely see that one powerful solution is one that benefits all, guided dives.
Or a victims lawyer will force it. It’s just a matter of time.
If you wanna run with the big dogs, you’re gonna hafta crap in the yard...
Mutually exclusive ideas...inside one mind at the same time. I’ve always had this “problem”, and I function well enough I guess.
Locals...<sigh>...the comments on the facebook page for the sheriff? Comedy gold
Sometimes...I get frustrated and think "stupid"... But I don't think that's it... Here in Key Largo, I see near misses on divers on a fairly regular basis. One real big problem here, ironically, is "no flag at all". Or diver/snorkelers much futher away from the flag than one would reasonably expect, and probably the most frustrating...in canals, along walls and jetties, no flag/head in the water, very restricted ability to keep a "safe" distance, clueless.
Folks in private boats come into no-wake-idle-speed sanctuary zones up on plane 20mph all the time. Also sometimes fishers are trolling lines right through the middle of the sanctuary. I yell. They yell. Everybody yells. The glassbottom boat hits the PA and the voice of gawd booms out. But we're all assuming english is going to work. Spanish is rapidly moving up my list of things I need to learn.
When they see us all waving and hear the horns it generally gets them to slow down or alter course, and if they moor up near me I try to talk to them about it. Most people just don't understand the rules...and when they do, they will follow them. But one rule I try to follow; never scream in anger at a driver in front of their family and friends. The goal is to solve a problem. Besides, our phone number is painted on the side of the boat ;-)
BUT...if I get 'tude...or the charming middle finger? I take a picture of the boat and text it to my bud Jason at FWC and voila! Instant karma.
Yeah...ignorance. It is just so easy to boat unsafely.
The 88’s...the eighth letter of the alphabet “HH”...Heil Hitler. Here’s your “extreme righties” people. A POV you will not see on Faux. I struggle with good people doing nothing in the face of clear sedition...it is only a matter of time. I remind you kind readers of the rhetorical question; what is the difference between one extreme conservative terrorist from the middle east and one from say......Arizona? Answer; where to put the bomb.
“The only ones left with any confidence at all are the New Dumb. It is the begining of the end of our world as we knew it. Doom is the operative ethic."
Hunter Thompson
“Just put a “0” in the box, dude...”
I note a massive irony...the NOAA managers of the Florida Keys National Marine Sactuary (fknms) have issued a memo following the USCG investigation into the barracuda “attack” on a child snorkeling from a commercial charter in Key West...they reiterate that fines of up to $140,000. may be levied against anyone who throws any food in our waters to attract fish for the purposes of photography or recreation. However, if you KILL the fish, this law doesn’t apply. Chum away while you’re fishing...but if you chum and take a picture, you’re BUSTED. Fascinating logical split here. I guess fishers have lobbyists?
PLUS...a dive op here in Key Largo (which I note is clearly within fknms borders) not only violates this policy for profit, but has done so for 25 years! They actually advertise the feeding. BONUS: they are also doing it in a Sanctuary Protection Area (spa) at Elbow Reef. No touch, no take, no fishing, no feeding. SO...putting this in a bit of perspective...another example of privilege awarded through skullduggerus means thwarting the law as others are held to it.
Hopefully...the NOAA Sanctuary people will move toward a uniform and fair application of policy and rule...and consequences. Allowing this confusing conflict does NOT engender respect for the process or for the unfettered clarity of the law.
Unspoiled by progress...
Interesting...history used as a blunt object, whittled down to fit the purpose du jour, repeated and embellished it grows with every pass. In these times, that explosion can be abrupt. . when people do this, it’s bad...right?
Invoking certain keywords into revisionist dialogue indicates you’re nearing the explosion leading to an inevitable implosion...followed by the sweet, sweet sound of <crickets>....calling conservatives “fascists” is akin to invoking “Marxist” or “socialist”. Where do you go when someone says that? Downhill, quickly, followed by “repeat”....
Sure seems to be happening a lot lately...
I have a hardbound collection of Rolling Stone mag circa 1970-1977...ads, reviews...politics. Fear and Loathing, the Sucktide Reaches San Clemente-alicious! An interesting look into something that seemed “fringe” and really wasn’t at all.
And I wonder about my old anti-hero hero...Hunter Thompson, and what he would think of us now. There was always this reckless willingness to hit the keys and then “send”...almost guilleless “gonzo journalism” style raised to a “high” art. and certainly not afraid of pissing off the pissants
or Bill Buckley (William F)...the smartest dude ever. And a “C”onservative. Not a shithead with a 6th grade education spouting GlennBeckisms...a real, highly educated fiscal Conservative who knew his history cold.
Plant evolution is not well documented in the fossil record...so this is an amazing find.
Attention shifts as if some powerful invisible wizard shakes shiny keys and “poof!” we are beguiled by yet another transient apocalypse... like it-never-happened. Human nature, I guess. Summer’s theme “The End of the World As We Know It” has been replayed so many times here. Life in a hurricane lane means facing the possibility of things as they are becoming something else entirely.
Like an oil spill. We were all under that sword of Damocles for months and months as imminent warnings of oil sweeping over the Florida Keys and up the east coast
Or lionfish...another dire threat that just like the oilspill...both issues human caused. Stupidity, greed, commerce, arrogance, politics.......OOPS! Who knew?
Reef...
innuendo, puns, and entendre aren't funny if you have to explain them.
There is little in my workaday world more gratifying than regulars at the dock...I come in and there they are. Not being very good with the names, it usually takes me a few minutes to put it together...or I see their gear. THAT, for some reason, almost instantly hits the “aHA!” button for me. People who know the drill...who have some experience here. So many of our featured subjects here at SBFTHOF are “randoms”...found us because they were late to another boat and rushed over, those who just randomly wandered in, those who go from one dive op to another learning nothing and always a nube. They are not coming back... Notice, kind readers, the 100% absence of Snappy Banter about...you? Aside from compliments and gratitude?
They were irritated about, well, everything. The goal was to do 20 dives in 5 days. Not to see this or that...just 20 dives. One, a DM was clearly hating it. Grimacing...exhausted, angry every day, every dive...the other one, judging everything she sees and as she talks it gets very clear she doesn’t “get it” and she ISN’T going to get it because she thinks she “has it”. Knees knocking terror at the entry she splashes on the Grove...her mission is to stay above the wreck. Why she wouldn’t follow instructions and use the structure to hide from the current I do not know....but her buddies left her on the line and cruised...she stayed on the line like a flag in the wind...the current was smokin’. When her buddies came back without her....I knew we had a “special” one here and I muttered to myself “this ain’t gonna happen again”...a weak, middle-aged out of shape female diver...alone, in heavy current and an agenda.
That afternoon on Molasses...dive 1 they were 5 minutes late to the boat. Another example of “don’t get it”...she stays in as her buddy boards and starts swimming around under the boat...alone. Everyone else is aboard. I bang on the ladder and she grumpily comes back and says “I was doing a safety stop!” as if she could loosely toss out “safety” and I would back down. Wrong again, bison breath.
First off...you do a safety stop during your dive time...NOT when you are due to be back. 2nd...in 30ft of water, the dive itself IS a safety stop. 3rd, if you’re alone in the water and you’re a bit of a spud with “issues” there is no such thing as “safety”. You’re underwater on a life support system and you’re alone. That is clearly not “safe”. I said all of that to her.
Making an angry beaver mad when they were already mad and predisposed to being madder? She went home at body temperature...in spite of herself.
Another day...another middleaged drama. A couple in their 50’s...he carries everything, sets up her gear...in the water, he towed her. No shit...I never saw her move her legs or feet in the water. He comes back complaining about “horrible current”. There was, kind readers, 0 fucking current. 0.
I had warned them both about bumpy windy conditions...and now she is seasick. He demands we move somewhere else where the wind isn’t blowing and there is “no current” and I told him that around 5 I’d have them back at the dock...where they could get in a swimming pool. 2 angry people...blaming me while 4 others are having a blast. The contrast is lost on him...he demands I allow him to smoke, I refuse. Start the party!... Clearly, they got on the “go on the ocean” boat by mistake...
“No win situation”...I let it go. Being stuck with miserable people with body fluid issues who throw out angry blame for 3 hours? Another day at the office...
A friend seemed perturbed...convinced I was being less than honest. He said that the president is/was associated with “socialists” and “radicals”. I was genuinely thrown for a loop. I think that if B. Obama looks like a socialist to you your back is up against the wall on the far, far, far right. So I googled it...and landed in a world of idiotic speculation posed as “news” and “fact”...The clash between left and right tears asunder hope for civil discourse. The seditious hidden agenda has a certain vicious edge and the strange belief that God (capital G) is on someone’s side and we should all go buy gold...is persistent. And they seem convinced of a conspiracy by the media...and they respond as if it were so. Marking them as...ridiculous. And unstable pawns of ACTIVELY current radicals..the threat to conservatives isn’t the left, kind readers, it comes from within their own ranks. The violent racist movements merging with those predisposed to belief in superstitious myth and simplicity has never led anywhere but toward death and destruction. The capacity for faith in the face of opposition and science is a double edged sword...both a virtue and a vice at times.
Lilly...
She was the finest dog I ever knew...a classic story of triflers buying an expensive dog to appease a child who neglected the animal. Rich people who thought this beautiful litle spirit was an object...Lilly had a hard start to her life. Caged, then confined with much larger dogs she took a bite to the face that so damaged her eye that it almost killed her. Her “owners” wanted her put down because she was “flawed”....but we said we’d love to have her. They said “we’ll think about it”....so I picked Lilly up and held her and whispered in her ear “take a big shit on an expensive carpet”...that night, she exploded all over a $40,000 antique rug that was like 500 years old. The decision was made...and she came home at last. True story. That dog...that dog was one of a kind. The past few years I haven’t seen her much, but when I did she would “cry” like a child and make me hold her for an hour...then every time she would leave the room and come back do it all over again as if she was just now noticing me. Her loyalty, intelligence and warmth marked her as the finest dog I ever knew...ever.
Cuba...plans to drill in a bad place. I can’t wait to see the reaction from the Boehnerites! Would they remain consistent in their staunch support of “drill baby drill?”...will they suddenly tout environmental concern? Film at 11...
My career as RoadMan for the Lords of Karma...
The slow unfolding of time where memory alters history and scars are the proof...the little, the large, the evidence of the past. Musings in crepuscular dawn light in Snappy Banter World Headquarters...
My preferences in film run counter to formulaic...romantic comedies with the flavor of the day contrived duo? Pass. Originality...taking a theme and running something unexpected? I’m IN. The broad sweep of those who consider not-at-all the minimum film requirement that it NOT be a television show...that the medium of the large screen experience should be utilized in some way cinematically seems lost on the modern audience. They are increasingly unable to even tell the difference between shot on/for video and the art of film...an art which like all things creative can be repugnant at first glance. Television...is about selling something...products, people...and shot in that 10 minute cadence that marks it. Along with the sad requirement that they are not in any way “offended” or “provoked”...or presented with a non-formula...bland, predictable, happy ending. Featuring TV stars on hiatus... Awful.
I drive the boat up toward the Jesus statue...none of the negatives about this site exist today. We are the only boat there. Beautiful dive, this. Or a ridiculous example of the Roadside Florida Flea Circus...20-30 private boats, loud music...screaming, thrashing people everywhere...picking out a diver in distress under these circumstances? Ain’t gonna happen quickly.
I tend to think that good diving conditions trump turista demands...those who actually know the least about diving and the ocean will tend toward demand of specific divesites. And I do resist...on days when there might be 200-300 people on the Jesus I try to steer us away...but invariably, someone has demanded and been promised this site. And when someone complains about going back to Molasses...(Grand Canyon? AgAIN?????!!!!! Wahhh!) this site request always crops up. But what do I know?
The Bonus? The complaint about “crowds”. I note a trend between demanding and complaining...a link between the two? Yes indeed...
Reasonable doubt?...the prosecutor can’t seem to explain how the Intoxilyzer 8000 is calibrated or actually works.
Hey! Keep it down back there...I’m working on my elegance!
As soon as we crossed over the reefcrest...I knew. I drive out over the shallows, the water here is only 10ft deep. At Hawk Channel (about 3 miles out), seas pick up a little...and as I cross over the other side of the channel the swells from thousands of miles of open ocean roll higher by a foot or two and wind pushes them closer together. “10 minutes” I shout...and I turn and scan the faces. Now is when the unravelling begins for a few...
And the struggle I personally engage in...is to maintain a “positive” attitude in a manifestly “negative” situation.
The irony is that both situations exist simultaneously...the diving is wonderful. The boating, not so wonderful. Some onboard know this...some so, so, so don’t.
A boatload of regulars...1st name basis, 6-8 times a year guests/friends...calm seas (well, relatively) great vis and the attitude on the boat is “what-ever”...not the petulant 14 year old connotation but the more relaxed-release-control vacation version. That comes with being in familiar surroundings, methinks.
What a nice morning...and I ponder my great fortune to be sitting here...not so much relaxing, because with people and water and lead belts...only bad things happen quickly...but my alarms are in “set” mode...not actively bleeping, no deep-scan for the “is that a head?” off a mile away
One of my guests was once as nervous a diver as you would ever see...she struggled with her fears, and even a mild current or a wave or two would scare the shit out of her. You should see her now...her shiny new camera and her enthusiastic interest in naming everything she sees, her confidence and ability to cope with the oceans whims and gifts whatever they may be. Ahhh, yes...! A sublime morning of people who “get it”.
And then...the bomb goes off. At the turn, a whole group from another dive op whose boat had broken down. Usually...this is an opportunity for us to turn the charm up on highbeam. But nestled in amongst out newcomers...a nest of angry beavers.
The seas were calm...the current mild, and when the pool was opened the shrieking commenced almost immediately...how we had gone from sublime to ridiculous so quickly is the subject of many posts here at SBFTHOF...and yesterdays post alludes. The complaints were bitter and angry (snorkelers) about everything...the current, the 1ft chop, the depth...the mate suggested we move somewhere else for our second dive...but I laughed at her. My policy is to gauge conditions and provide the best experience potential I can, and moving to a place with “0” current meant that I would have to go to a site that is not so good for diving...PLUS, I also note that attempting to please someone who has the ignorant audacity to complain about one of the most beautiful natural wonders in the world is so far down my list of concerns as to slip right off the page...the divers return, 2 at a time with excited reports of a 7ft long goliath grouper...eagle rays. An awesome dive...our snorkelers are seething at this...so lemme see, should I stay or go? I stayed.
The ebb and flow of people weather chafes like a pair of shorts that creep up into the crack of your ass...
Hero to zero...and back again. So getting a puffed up ego over the one and hand-wringing over the other?
“0” current...a little wind, maybe but not bad. 2-3ft seas...and complaints roll in. Along with the compliments. Which to respond to...? Both? Neither? Will my ambiguous response to both elicit a complaint about my aloofness? All of the Above.
Some captains will entertain the notion that all people can be satisfied, all complaints settled. A complaint about ocean-things...trifling projections of personal issues onto the deep blue sea, where expectation meets nature unplugged.
Like a trickle of current...and 100ft of visibility. You move from Molasses (sublime, transcendent, clear water) over to French (this day 30ft vis, milder current) to quiet down the snivellers...now they’re complaining about other things over which I have no control whatsoever. My policy is strict...Never, ever choose a divesite for my own personal reasons. Choice is made by assessment of conditions, passenger qualifications, local knowledge. I would drive the boat to Mars for a good dive experience for my guests, and there are some divesites (Pickles Reef) I will not go to at all...so when I know that the complaint-of-the-moment isn’t really coming from a place that has anything at all to do with me...I move on. Running a dive boat based on the complaints of a complainer may seem like “customer service” to some...but I suggest it’s just a bit cowardly. The greater good to the greatest number and all...as opposed to trying to please unpleaseables.
My flaws are written in stone, my virtues in water...
Water magnifies, distorts, clarifies, runs everything...add light and marvelous things appear. Sometimes, people ask “why do you dive?”...and I think that question really digs to the heart of it. Water. Because the water is there, I dive. Once immersed, the answer seems so obvious...but fishing around for words to describe it falls short of expressive.
The properties of water are astonishing and decidedly anti-intuitive. Ice floats...have you ever pondered why that is? I mean, after all it’s water. Why would it float? And why do I give a shit? Well...if it didn’t float then the oceans would eventually just fill up with ice. The way the atoms lock into a grid reduces it’s volume ever so slightly and voila! It floats. How strange, I think...and the incompressiblity of it...amazing. No matter how much pressure you exert, same volume. Unlike air which can be forced into smaller volumes and higher density. So I’m a geek...h2o just seems very cool on a physics level.
The ancient ocean...filled with animals in relationships so complex people still know so little about...for example, what eats lionfish? How are their populations controlled in the Pacific? You realize...this is not known yet?
Water...it isn’t the gear, the bling, the tshirts...I don’t seek validation or anything like that at all. It isn’t about flitting all over the globe seeking to be overwhelmed...for me it is about getting to know the place, seasonal changes, the same fish in the same places...the recovering coral, the dead and dying. I know Molasses reef very well, but in the handful of hours (nearly all of them in daylight) how much can I really grasp? So I don’t try too hard to be driven. Being here forces me into the moment, right now is all there is.
Back on land...my evil twin comes back as I transition into People Weather. They rush about, worrying about their groundpounder people things, as do I.
Yeah, it’s about the water itself.
The papers here are filled with letters to the editor about the high speed crash (see the post below) and tragic death of a police officer. People are not happy about this “investigation” and suspicion about responsibility being placed at the highest level of the Sheriffs Dept here in Monroe County is in the “ain’t gonna happen” file...but I’m not so sure. Seems the points I made here on Snappy Banter are being voiced everywhere. Except, of course, by the Sheriff himself. Time for a statement? After all...it is an elected position and all. And I (for one) have a very long memory. If only he would suggest a full investigation is ongoing and the officer in question placed on administrative leave pending outcome. But...<crickets-chirping>
Dr Laura yikes. What an EEEEEdiot. The Book Of Leviticus? HoleeSHIT! Another victory for the mainstream media for pushing this into prominence. She will soon be offered a job with FoxNews...you heard it here first!
“FUCK the doomed!” richard nixon
Guided dives...that sure sounds good to me. I used to think that diving should be ”do your own thing”...well. With guided tours, getting “lost”, running out-of-air, and that charming late to the boat thing is/are vastly diminished. The guy yesterday who came back to the boat complaining his rental reg stopped working rang that gong yet again...the reason his reg stopped working was because his tank didn’t have any air left in it. “That current was so bad, and when I tried to go underwater to swim back it stopped working”. Back aboard, he’s gasping and ashen colored...scared shitless. No current. “0” seas/wind...100ft vis.
Molasses reef was quite the scene...private boats everywhere...overloaded was the standard today...4-5 of them had 15-17 people. 24ft, 21’s the usual. Shrieking in Spanish the vast majority. One next to us threw a 3yr old into the blue ocean...no floatation, no warning...just picked up the baby and tossed him overboard. I was alarmed, on edge, pacing the boat trying to parse out one scream from another...and then mentally switching to the cold fact that drowning people never scream. Only the doomed do this, and I say :Fuck the Doomed.
8 people on an inflatable raft...8 adults! Now in Florida you have to have a life jacket for each passenger and in this case there were clearly “0”. They drive into the flotilla of private boats and shriekers, over the heads of divers and zoom toward a mooring ball that another dive boat had their bowline attached to...I’m watching in disbelief thinking they are going to run right over it and capsize...but they stop and try to hook up to it. I have never seen this before...the captain scurries forward and tells them “you can’t do that!” and swear-to-god, the dipshits start arguing with him...well, Lou kept his cool and never swayed from very polite. I got the whole episode on my iphone-vid and at poker night the crowd was beguiled by it...
One comment onboard; “if the FWC would ticket all these people out here, we could get rid of the sales tax”. INdeed...but they don’t.
And I’m not just whining here...anchors dropped on endangered species of coral, people fishing, lobstering, breaking every law and rule of boating, reef preservation, common sense...reckless endangerment of children, and the worst offense of all; playing horrible latino trash “music” at 110 decibels.
A woman, face down doing the “dead man float”, full scuba...bubbles finally blurp. She’s alive. But not moving at all...slowly she drifts from her (private) boat as her SO climbs aboard. She makes no effort whatsoever...literally DIW (dead in the water). 100ft back, she lifts her lame head out of the water and shrieks “PAPE! PAPE!!!!!!!!!!!!” (daddy in espanol). “I sure the fuck hope that’s his daughter” I mumble. BUT, it isn’t. He swims out to haul her lazy ridiculous fat ass back to the boat and she unleashes a flood of tears and profanity at him all the way back. Just hideous. THIS, kind readers, is where boners go to die. Daddy? Really? Am I so culturally intolerant? The combination of stupidities and unfathomable ickiness overwhelms one...
A quotidian day in paradise...
Something about this place seems to concentrate a certain demographic...female, 40-60, 100lbs, leathery sun baked skin and that distinctive walk...swaying and tilted, they might sidestep right into the traffic whizzing past the highway. Yeah, it’s that common.
Is there a Jimmy Buffett (maybe John Prine?) song for this? A couple times a year one of these vampirettes staggers into the path of a car and sadness ensues...we do seem to attract a lot of the same thing here. I know every town has it’s chronic drinkers, but here there is a clear division between the vampires and the straights. Between those who say and live “there is nothing to do here except drink” and those who listen to this bullshit politely silent...
A bar-world...nexus, ground zero...”the office”. Clueless tourists are lured into the Caribbean Club by a sign that proclaims “The Movie Key Largo Was Filmed Here”...The big Harleys are all clustered in front and entry is past the meth dealer-gauntlet...inside, a display so obvious I refer to it as “reason 12 why I don’t drink”. A couple a year cash the check by blundering drunkenly into traffic out front in this same spot...
The cop had turned his radio onto the wrong channel on purpose...while on duty he went to his gun store (he is the owner). His partner tried to call him and when he didn’t answer she hit the gas and was driving 106mph. One Hundred and Six. 1.7 miles per minute, 92.1 knots,155.5 ft per second A young man pulled onto the highway northbound, but who would expect such an onrush...? Note...there was no emergency other than the fake one created by one cop who was cheating the taxpayers and his partner who obliterated policy and panicked. The young man has been arrested and charged. I find this highly disturbing...highly. This is far from the first similar incident (I refuse to refer to it as an accident) where local cops were driving at over 100mph for nothing. No emergency. Not on call...in fact, they have been doing this on the way up the stretch now and then, off duty on the way home. The prosecution of this young man...while the cop who caused it still patrols our streets, still sells guns at his store, strikes me as very not good.
After complaints about this speeding business and aggressive driving by our cops shot up to “complaint-number-one” from the public, they did nothing. Now...they have a “policy”. Decades have passed as this problem grew and grew...but the cops going after this young man before the cop who caused it tells an interesting story counter to the “change in policy”...covering up why Kiffney was not doing cop work while on duty, why he never radioed his unavailability, why he switched frequencies, and why his partner acted so recklessly without authorization or emergency...I think the young man is also victim here and a lawsuit will surely follow. While my respect for law enforcement is solid, I find it highly distasteful that officers who disrespect the law are allowed to enforce it and subject others to the consequences. Arrest Kiffney. Charge him with contributing to this awful tragedy. And as an incentive to the police to do the right thing before this happens again...assign some blame to the officer who died in the crash. Instead of just referring to her as a “fallen hero”. A term better suited to those that died heroically while doing their duty to protect and serve the public. All due respect, of course.
Mugshots are posted on the police website within minutes of booking...charged but not convicted, I guess the message being broadcast here is “stay the fuck away from the po-lice!”. I can understand the convicted getting their face on there...but the presumption of innocence is an endangered concept in our police state-post 911 world. Note, kind readers, that seeing those charged and then acquitted is far, far, far more difficult and convoluted and the picture commemorating the arrest remains within the database..There is one face I see over and over...Key West the arrest site, drinking in public the charge. Once or twice a month he gets arrested...another guy I know has had police called on him 20-30 times in the last 6 years for domestic battery, intimidating behavior, drunk in public...a brute, convicted felon. But they don’t arrest him...so when this “citizen” gets all involved in support for the election of a local judge (Ptomey) I gravitate toward voting for the other guy (Demetrios). Something doesn’t feel quite right here...and this is far from the first time these individuals have spent the big money to support particular judges and sheriffs..
And a message to those running for office that the stain of unsavory patrons is transferrable.
So much for objective journalism...
Island life can be deceptive...the attraction becomes the problem itself. Very few can, in reality, live with “less”. True Freedom is having nothing left to lose, my friends. But this condition rarely registers as transcendent...like ego diminishment, in the poorly developed character...losing everything creates a feeling of failure in so, so many. Thus the common suggestion “all there is to do here is drink”. Here at the end of the road, the pathological drinkers who suffer the delusional latitudinal cure hit the dirt hard.. The craters are all around us...
What a cruel irony...so much beauty and space, sky, light, water in a limitless expanse...views of the water, blocked everywhere...except the bars and resorts. They come here, they think that is What It Is...but it isn’t. This is real life, just like anywhere else. People keep trying to get me to go out with them “partying” or whatever...they seem to think that since they are on vacation so are we all. All I really want to do is go home at the end of the day and see my girl’s beautiful smile, relax...shed the drama of the day just like anyone else. I am very selfish about this...and sometimes I suspect folks are a bit offended...groups come down and they want me to go to dinner or to a cookout...but the reality is they want Captain Bob to entertain them some more. At 5pm, I turn into “bob”.
I look at the weather radar and notice a counterclockwise trend in the thunderstorms...a banding that brings slow moving rainstorms over narrow areas in classic “freight train” tropicalality...seems a low pressure system is forming right over us here on the Rock of Love. No biggie for us...it’ll move on before it worsens, but the squally weather wreaks havoc with the turistas...my stoic grimness at the dock reflects what I have just seen out on the water. Predicted winds are under 10mph...reality is South 15-20mph. BANGO!
So all aboard! Certified in a quarry...never been in the ocean? Come on down, you’re the next contestant on “LiveAndLearn”...as always, our contestant will be paired with someone else who paid full price to be here. As always, our contestant will have refused to pay for the services of a guide. As always...our contestant will get the living shit scared out of them and then force their assigned buddy to miss 15-20 minutes of their dive dealing with their series of poor decisions. And best of all, a really nice person gets the shit kicked out of them, get’s feared-up and then seasick. Something I try so hard to avoid...so hard. But who listens to the voice of experience in this western-world-way of thinking? Ahhhh, you are correct grasshopper! No One.
The French family, same day...diving with a guide. But what ees theese? Ze bubble-watch-airs? OUI! Mal de mer??? OUI! Puking all over the ladders, the handles that we use to climb aboard, the lines we use to pull the ladders. Call me “negative”? I bet you don’t get other people’s puke all over you at work, do you?
The part of my job that produces the most resignation is that knowledge of What It Is...my empathy runs deep. I know that losing control of my body fluids in front of strangers in a place like vacation-land is pretty fucking low on my “bucket list”. The mortified, defeated, out of control and stuck for 4 hours thing...wowza. I really feel for them...I try to let them know at the dock, but holy SHIT! There is no stopping it most days. The beautiful clear water...the sky and all the wonderful shapes and colors in an endless variation of blue punctuated by the painful bleating goat-sound of vomiting...upwind, other boats and the unmistakable odor of puke. The challenge to spiritual awareness in times of need is to center oneself, remain grounded and grateful, to release one’s attachments to that which is not within control. And when you do this...for the sake of sanity (which is generally an important part of my job) I move to the the other end of the boat. And am frequently described as having a “lack of compassion”. I would suggest to those who would think I should rub the necks of the pukers and whisper words of comfort that Bad Planning on Your Part Does Not Necessitate an Emergency on Mine. Just go for distance...and don’t puke on the shit we all have to touch, please.
Pessimism of the intellect, optimism of the will
Shark Week is a rankler. It rattles my cage in the same way television of a popular nature almost always does...if you came here looking for a ranty negative on this....read on.
Evolution has so far produced but one mindless species that would indulge in “sport-killing” and it ain’t sharks, people. TV animal molesters are a plague...very PT Barnum and bite-the-head-off-a-chicken, I wish divers would be a bit more critical of the portrayal of any wildlife in the sea.I also would hope divers become a bit more inspired about this declining environmental issue and speak out...but, alas...
Out at the Elbow Reef Sanctuary Protection Area it is against the law to feed or harass the animals. Shark feeding has been outlawed in Florida in general because A) people are generally hysterical idiots represented by hysterical idiots in the legislature and B) it’s bad to feed wild animals. For the animal, that is.
But there it is...a local diveop has been doing this very thing for many years and when divers see this behavior they do it too. Grabbing eels, sharks...goading cuda’s, harassing puffers. And when they get bitten? Who attacked who? Have you been reading this page? Do you understand how foolish people can be?
It’s like a fire coral sting...you get one, you deserved it. It didn’t leap out of a cave and attack you, homes.
Another example is the gator baiting airboat ‘glades rides...several operators were fined heavily for feeding wild gators for entertainment/profit. Good! Teaching turistas that Florida is a theme park is not “educational” nor does it raise awareness and respect for the environment. Quite the opposite.
The real beauty of the sea happens when an animal comes into view all on it’s own and you get a chance to see something wonderful and rare...for so many divers, they don’t know when this happens because so few care enough to find out what constitutes an unusual sighting (like sharks)...they rarely even know the difference between marine animals and plants...it can be overwhelming to experience the diversity of species on a coral reef and making sense of it takes time and effort. .
The real predators...bullsharks, reefies, hammerheads, are generally very wary of divers as are nearly all fish. They flee nervously as well they should. The effort required to get them all crazy for the cameras is extreme, clearly. But I ask...how amazing is it to see these animals in their natural environment acting naturally curious? Pretty fucking amazing.
Fuck You, Discovery Channel...
Where to start, where to end...the stories pile up in an escalating clusterfuck of unnecessary risk that floods your humble narrators world with adrenaline.
I think to myself “it will never end”...it boils down to “who will the next fool be?” On a diveboat, things happen that push all genuine “fun” so far out of the realm of real for me and seem so obviously fucked up...one “thing” that glares is the childrens diving program that certifies 10 -11-12 year olds to dive with any certified adult over 18. Most often, this process brings parents and child(ren) into learning at the same time. So....what you have here, my friends, is one clueless nube leading clueless minor child nubes on a near death experience without the benefits of understanding how close they came to “dead”.
Yesterday...dad, 10yr old and his 11 yr old brother all three ran out of air. I don’t mean 200psi...I mean drop fucking dead empty. 0 psi.as they clamber aboard from a 60ftvis, 30ft deep, no current dive...they were panicky, and the kids gauges read zippo on air and I am cranked up on high. The mate leans over the dad and tells him “that’s just irresponsible. You need to watch this...don’t do it again!”
I tell him the same thing, as well as both of the boys...they seem to understand, but....but....they do it again on dive 2.
Ironically...I had been talking to someone about how the bubblewatchers get to watch things they never could have imagined. In this particular case the BW was mom and a 2 year old. Bizarre as it may seem...the gravity of this incident(s) never registered on any of them. They are here at Snappy Banter because? Intransigence...they are going to do this again, no doubt. So I come home...and the adrenaline seeps out slowly, the knowledge that something so wickedly unthinkable...an entire family wiped out by something so fucking stupid, a “recreational” activity so trivial and unimportant could end up so close to disaster...and you would think it would garner a bit of attention but it doesn’t. Because it is so unbelievably common.
WHO would get certified with their kids...WHO would be so scared shitless they couldn’t take care of themselves let alone 2 children looking to dad to protect, and his fear and inexperience looms in his face...but he doesn’t see it.
But we do. We see it...and one of my gut level truths is the stupidity of suggesting that the certification process for beginners equips a parent to take care of anyone else. They are not required to train for this. They get certified, they can take their kids diving. They are almost universally NOT qualified to manage divers, they can barely manage themselves...I have seen near death in children far too many times to count, kind readers. The major certification agencies and the instructors who sign off on these family groups? My position is obvious...This is getting worse and worse and worse...
French reef...as soon as we stop the motors divers start swimming back toward us...HEY WaIT! We haven’t even got anyone in the water yet!...they’re from another catamaran exactly like ours...one after another, they come. Low on air, struggling against, well, struggling against “0” current. The DM from the other boat is picking them up on a rescue line one after another...2 come up from a private boat and my DM is towing them back to their bigass fishing boat and she spots a couple of their group spearfishing...in a Marine Sanctuary! The boat has fishing poles dangling bait...she shouts at them “HEY! You can’t fish in here...and what the helll are you doing with that speargun?!?”...they shout back “IT’s LEGAL!”...she shouts back “NO IT ISN”T!!!”...I get on the phone with FWC and when the officer asks for a description of the boat I quickly snap a picture with my iphone...he says “that’ll do...I can see their FL numbers”...
All day long...one asshole after lobster, then another...dropping anchors onto the coral reef 5 ft from a mooring ball and snorkeling down 30 ft to take lobster from a “no-take” Nat’l Marine Sanctuary...dozens of people yelling at them, all over the radio...another one anchored in the coral near the lighthouse...in the channel near port as I come out and go on plane a boat IN the channel with a dive flag...I slow down to a stop and realize this is the same guy I yelled at yesterday for doing the same thing in the canal...he has divers in the water (10ft deep)...this is totally NOT legal, but far more than that it is INSANE. Look at all this boat traffic! Lobstering isn’t exactly a national security issue or some shit and I wonder what it is that drives this escalating stupidity over lobster...I yell over “Could you have possibly found a worse place to dive?”...he yells back “IT’S LEGAL!” (a non-responsive answer if ever there was one) And of course I yell back “NO IT ISN’T” and he flips me off...25 divers onboard all laugh at him...I warn the other boats in the area to watch for this assclown and call the FWC.
Fucking assholes doing fucked up asshole shit. Imagine that! I wonder...what kind of place is this? People come here with no regard whatsoever for the law or environment...they wreak havoc, so often in such a grand display of horrifying recklessness that as the sun slowly sets into the azure waters of the bay...I can not even speak...I turn on the TV and shit-the-bed-sweet-baby-jesus...SHARK WEEK! A non-stop sensational frenzy of mindless killing machines worthy of annihalation! FUCK you, Discovery Channel.
My attitude toward lobstering and fishing is shifting toward “shut it the fuck down”. Clearly...the reefs are being overwhelmed by destructive ignorance. It produces nothing and leads to a nowhere place NO ONE wants. But...there it is. We motor in past the jetty and watch a dozen people throwing sharpened hooks, 2-3 undersized snapper flopping on the rocks as the hooks are ripped out and they get tossed back to die slowly...a rotting nurse shark laying in the sun being poked by children squealing in fear and delight at the vanquished monster...good times. Teach your children well...
Unfuckwithable...(words for things you didn’t know had names)
She wanted to be a singer...moved to LA. A few years later, Las Vegas. Read between the lines the dreaming and planning, the endless banality of high school Rogers and Hammerstein creating a localized star. The bravery of commitment is unbelievably strong in some. In others, recklessness is all they have. Every play a “hail Mary”. Put it all on one hand and bluff your way to wealth and fame. Or...doggedly pursue your goal.
Beautiful day, calm seas...ahhh, now the margin for fuggin-up seems to widen a bit. In high seas there is only a thin wafer in which to correct problems. But both are illusions. That margin never actually changes in size. Never. You think that such a wonderful gift of a day could never be marred by mayhem?
A group of snorkelers can alter that perception in a NY minute. Daily, we get snorkelers who despise water. They have never ever been on a boat (other than the one at Wally World with the singing dolls) never worn fins or a mask...and in the thousand-shades-of-blue Molasses Reef waters with 100ft of visibility they announce “I hate water”. The oddness of that never fades for me. Never. Yesterday it was the whole family. Somehow, the reality of what they had just paid $250 to do as a family dawned on them, alas too late. They were going on an actual boat onto an actual ocean. Sorry folks...
Full boat...and “the announcement” as we motor 5 miles offshore and approach the reef. “I can’t climb the ladder with my gear on”. Female. 50.
Sure, we’ll do it. But I always feel a bit like they are pushing it...really now, don’t you think this should have been ironed out when you sign up? The numbers of females over 40 with physical limitations make them a demographically unmistakable spike. The Way It Is.
And like a child on scuba, it changes everything. The presumption that grown-ups cover themselves is totally not the Way It Is...and when you combine neediness and a disregard for anyone else onboard? 65 minutes in the water, I gave. At 70 minutes, she is under the boat...I bang on the ladder, she ignores me. Her husband is back and he is scenting the air with attitude. “She’s right under the boat” he says, like that’s supposed to be something important. Well, Dick Tracy, I knew where she was. My concern was her lateness, the fact she was not physically capable of self rescue, AND the fact that she required special handling...the lateness pissed me off. I told him that since we needed to winch her aboard, she was late to the boat. This whole bullshit of lateness to a dive boat reeks of turista asshat.
Mom and daughter blunder into the office...they had contacted a snorkel boat for a trip and ended up here. The daughter was a fish...she motored around the reef like one of us. Mom was a bit more timid...she hung onto the mooring line the whole time. Onboard, she is concerned about where her kid is and I point to her and say “I’m watching out for her...don’t worry” and she seems reassured. She tells me her husband had been a lifeguard and he and their daughter had always been water-people...but all her words referred to him in the past tense and I don’t mean d-i-v-o-r-c-e...there was a sad-vibe here, a trace of the “love for someone no longer with us”, a lingering discomfort at doing fun water things without him.
So both of them hung around near me on the boat...an affinity that at first confused me a bit, but I put it together after a few mentions of him. I think they saw the dragon in me...the protector. As we motored back home, mom sat out on the bow in the sun...eyes closed, face up into the bright blue sky and her face told me a story in the most subtle way of tragic loss, sadness, grief, a love for someone cut short by life’s temporal arrangement with the corporeal
As she left the boat...she reached out and shook my hand giving me a squeeze that said “thank you” in physical code...she needed to be watched over, to have her daughter protected...if only for a moment or two...and being on the water this way, I unknowingly filled a role. How terribly sweet, I think to myself...I saw her for who she really was for a short time...and she saw me too.
The odor of mortality is hard to avoid...
Remember the NJ divers who entered the Speigel Grove on single tanks? The memories of that awful incident cannot fade...I say “canNOT” because the same driven, manic urge to push it to the edge comes here, every single day.
Imagine...these big wrecks up in Norfolk sitting at dock for years and years. No one was allowed to walk around these surplus ships or to wander the hallways and interior...why? Because it was too dangerous..But now, now they sit in the Florida Keys being dived by thousands..access is basically unrestricted and the danger has not been abated by immersion...
So there we were on the big wreck...3 divers from PA, adorned with their version of redundant air (literally air...a 40cf sling bottle with reg) one on a steel 120...the other 2 on AL 80’s. Nothing tech about them...nothing.
These 3 were...driven. They had dived the same wreck that morning...so, deep-deep-rush-rush-deep-deep. Turns out...the plan was to go to the engine room, same as the story referenced above...the story with the tragic ending.
I had no idea...the leader of the pack was very practiced in the art of deceit and lied from the very beginning...he said he had AOW students to get a discount on the boat, then showed up without students...he was there with his regular buddies. When he was told that his dive profiles this day needed to be conservative considering what he had done that morning he stated his intent to flit around the outside of the wreck. A flagrant lie as it turns out.
They penetrated into the engine room on BOTH dives, no doubt violating all recreational limits. I sought their plan...really tried hard. They blocked me, even when I queried their deco-intentions. I don’t have a problem with technical diving...but I demand a runtime and plan. For recreationals I give the usual admonitions against entering the wreck below the 86ft depth and they clearly heard and understood. Also clearly...they were not prepared for a deco-dive. They were going to rush in and rush out to beat the no-deco-limits.
Similarities abound...age, experience level, regional origins in the NE, lack of adequate gas...lack of appropriate deco gases...a hinky dangerous “plan”...and crafty deceit. Oh yeah...preening, pusillanimous arrogance.
Nothing new there...it is of great concern to me that people would use a commercial dive operator such as I as an ambulance in waiting. All around us this day are private boats in moderate current. One guy behind us sucks down a beer, dons his gear and down he goes onto the stern (140ft)...he comes up 5 minutes later and shouts over “HEY! What dive site is this?” I shout back “The Speigel! Helluva time to figure that out dude”
Meanwhile off the other private, 4 divers drifting off the wreck in deep trouble.
On my boat...1 diver returns on the octo of another...he is completely out of air and edging toward full blown panic. We get him aboard...the strangeness of this day blends into the strangeness of so many other days on the wrecks. People getting rescued, their lives being saved by the thinnest of margins...classic male character flaws play out in ways where the consequences are un-fucking-acceptable...I wonder all the time if they know this.
And I think, no. They don’t know really. And the tragedy in that is they will do it again and again. In this case...not on my boat. You get to fuck me and my crew over once. Bonus? Our “experienced” assclowns stiffed us. And guess which shop in Harleyville PA they were from?
This kind of worry isn’t what people think of when the visualize moving here and working a dive boat. The sleepless nights, the endless parade of fools with agendas...the strange obsession to dive these wrecks and nothing else, sneering at the reef dives as if they were childs play of no concern to the manfolk.
Wondering when, who...will fuck up spectacular-style and draw the inevitable inquiry into “why did you let them?”...police, USCG, lawsuit-happy relatives, the scubaboard hivemind naming names and speculating...all over a couple of dumbass dudes who died doing something dumbass. Nothing to do with me...I’m just the guy that cleans the mess.
Snappy Banter will never run out of material, kind readers.
“For Sale; Baby shoes, never worn” Ernest Hemingway
Brief, illustrative, thought provoking...a quick read. Hemingway wrote this on a bet. I hope he won.The shortest story ever.
