Treasures of the Deep

As I load my dive gear into a wheelbarrow for the short trek across the yard to the boat, I’m keeping one eye on the sky. I’ve already checked the weather three or four times in the last two days, but it’s Florida, and things can change fast.
 

It’s a perfect day for diving: There’s a slight breeze, it hasn’t rained for the past few days, and it’s not too windy, either. The breeze will keep it cool, and the lack of wind and rain will help improve the visibility underwater. The Gulf of Mexico is not known for great visibility, and that probably keeps a lot of people from diving here. Too bad. There really is a lot to see. Granted, it’s not the Caymans or Cozumel, but the Gulf is rich in marine life; you just have to search a little.

The Gulf of Mexico is like an underwater desert—vast expanses of sand stretching out to infinity. Any structure, like a rocky bottom, ledge, sunken boat or artificial reef, is an instant oasis. Little things, like barnacles, start growing on it, then some bigger things, like anemones and small coral. That starts to attract small fish; then some bigger ones show up, and pretty soon you have an interesting dive spot. The trick is finding it. Artificial reef locations are the easiest, as they’re published by the county and available at any bait or tackle shop. Ledges and rock bottoms are a little trickier. If you know someone willing to share, that’s the mother lode. I’ve spent many hours just idling around in the boat watching the depth finder trying to find new spots. 

One of my favorite spots for diving is a small rocky ledge about eight miles due west of Sarasota. It’s one of the few places in Sarasota where I’ve been able to find a giant anemone (and the only one I have ever found within 20 miles of shore). These anemones are common in the Caribbean, but Sarasota is a little too far north for them to thrive. I’ve been watching this particular one for many years. At least once every year I go check on him. He’s attached to the rock right near a small break in the ledge. One year I couldn’t find him and was afraid he had succumbed to the cold that winter or that some insensitive diver had taken him. The following year, to my great delight, he was there. Today I want to see if he’s still doing OK.

My dive buddies and I travel to the GPS coordinates we have and then start watching the plotter for changes in the bottom contour. As soon as we see a rise or drop in the bottom that indicates structure, we drop anchor.

The next few minutes are spent getting the dive flag up and making sure all of the equipment is in order. I’m fussy about my equipment. Any good diver is. Diving is gear-intensive, with tanks, regulator, back-up air, mask, fins, booties, snorkel, dive light, weight belt and wet suit. All are important, not only for the comfort of the dive but also for safety. A little thing like a foggy mask can make for an unpleasant dive.

When you add photography gear to the mix, you have a lot more to think about: camera, housing, lens port, strobes, cables and strobe arms. Everything needs to be checked for water-tightness and to make sure it’s correctly connected, set and working. All the batteries need to have a full charge. After I’m underwater, there are very few things I can adjust. The housings have a lot of knobs and controls, and each one has to connect and work properly if I’m going to get the shots I want. Once everything is set and double-checked, I’m ready to start the dive.

We exit from the back of the boat and swim to the bow. Once everyone is gathered at the anchor line, we release air from our buoyancy vests and slowly slip under the surface. I love this part—entering into the underwater world. I turn and look down the anchor line. On a really good day, we can see the bottom almost instantly. Usually we get about halfway down the line before we start to make out the outlines of the structure we are looking for. Today the visibility is average; I can see about 20 feet horizontally in all directions. 

As we reach the bottom, the landscape turns to monotone. Water filters the red out of the visible spectrum, and a lot of the color that is there is lost to the human eye. If you want to see the real color, you have to shine your dive light on things. When you do, it’s like magic; all the beauty comes to life.