When thoughts turn to scuba diving they normally dwell on coral reefs, multi-colored fish, and deep blue tropical waters.
And a heavy, longing sigh normally accompanies those thoughts.
Blue water isn't always readily accessible to divers who live in the mid-west, which accounts for a majority of those sighs of course. It's kinda tough to get away from the job for a scuba visit to the ocean sometimes.
But that desire to get wet is always with us, isn't it? From the first time we strap a tank on our back, and slap a mask over our eyes, we're already looking forward to our next dive outing as soon as our fins leave the water.
Many of us are addicted to diving, and we dread the possibility of our scuba skills seeking stagnation.
Ah, but we have our quarries - those rock-walled pits of cold water where we gather on weekends to talk about our most memorable diving adventures, and to immerse ourselves in that anti-gravity experience we call scuba.
Quarry diving only satisfies our basic cravings though. It's much different than diving in warm, clear water where you see for 50-feet in all directions, and your dive-buddy only needs wave a hand to get your attention.
Diving conditions on Sunday, 25 April 2009 brought those differences noisily to mind.
The day was beautiful with sunshine and temperatures above 80. I started sweating soon as I put my wet suit on. For a few moments I considered diving in only the shorty, and leaving the pants, hood, and gloves packed away. I didn't, and later was happy for that decision when I realized that my dive length would be shorter without that extra gear.
The water temperature at the surface dropped the thermometer to 63-degrees real quick, which wasn't so bad. That was still warm enough that I didn't feel cold, and it even made me more comfortable than I was in the air, sweating with the suit on.
I descended slowly to 20-feet and hovered for a moment letting the thermometer adjust, and getting a new temperature reading. At that depth I recorded 48-degrees.
This particular quarry doesn't get deeper than 23-feet except for one small hole that I once registered 25-foot in. For this dive my maximum depth was 22-feet.
When you're quarry diving you experience some extreme swings in visibility, depending on the time of year, weather activity, and the number of divers in the water.
Sediment from decaying plant life, and other runoff, layers the bottom of the quarry, and is rather thick in this particular dive spot.
Rain sets the sediment into motion and clouds the water, lowering visibility. Divers kick the sediment up when their fins create turbulence, sending clouds of muck flowing upward from the bottom.
This day a couple of visitors to the campground that adjoins this quarry were cruising around in a paddleboat, which stirred some sediment into motion also.
Because of all this activity the visibility, when there actually was visibility, reached no further than a foot-and-a-half.
Quarry diving is often solo diving because of the cloudiness of the water. Much of the time if you see your dive partner, you're bumping into him or tangling fins, which is usually your only indication that anyone is there.
No, visibility isn't always great, and if you feel nervous about diving alone maybe quarry diving isn't the most preferable activity. Still, if I can't make the trip to blue water, any time I have a chance to get wet, I jump in. It doesn't completely satisfy my addiction, but it helps.
I did see a couple of fish this day, but most of the dive I spent exploring gaps in the rocks, investigating mud.
Get details at: Sip Your Air.
Visit Scuba Diving Underwater, for scuba articles, books, and diving accessories.
And a heavy, longing sigh normally accompanies those thoughts.
Blue water isn't always readily accessible to divers who live in the mid-west, which accounts for a majority of those sighs of course. It's kinda tough to get away from the job for a scuba visit to the ocean sometimes.
But that desire to get wet is always with us, isn't it? From the first time we strap a tank on our back, and slap a mask over our eyes, we're already looking forward to our next dive outing as soon as our fins leave the water.
Many of us are addicted to diving, and we dread the possibility of our scuba skills seeking stagnation.
Ah, but we have our quarries - those rock-walled pits of cold water where we gather on weekends to talk about our most memorable diving adventures, and to immerse ourselves in that anti-gravity experience we call scuba.
Quarry diving only satisfies our basic cravings though. It's much different than diving in warm, clear water where you see for 50-feet in all directions, and your dive-buddy only needs wave a hand to get your attention.
Diving conditions on Sunday, 25 April 2009 brought those differences noisily to mind.
The day was beautiful with sunshine and temperatures above 80. I started sweating soon as I put my wet suit on. For a few moments I considered diving in only the shorty, and leaving the pants, hood, and gloves packed away. I didn't, and later was happy for that decision when I realized that my dive length would be shorter without that extra gear.
The water temperature at the surface dropped the thermometer to 63-degrees real quick, which wasn't so bad. That was still warm enough that I didn't feel cold, and it even made me more comfortable than I was in the air, sweating with the suit on.
I descended slowly to 20-feet and hovered for a moment letting the thermometer adjust, and getting a new temperature reading. At that depth I recorded 48-degrees.
This particular quarry doesn't get deeper than 23-feet except for one small hole that I once registered 25-foot in. For this dive my maximum depth was 22-feet.
When you're quarry diving you experience some extreme swings in visibility, depending on the time of year, weather activity, and the number of divers in the water.
Sediment from decaying plant life, and other runoff, layers the bottom of the quarry, and is rather thick in this particular dive spot.
Rain sets the sediment into motion and clouds the water, lowering visibility. Divers kick the sediment up when their fins create turbulence, sending clouds of muck flowing upward from the bottom.
This day a couple of visitors to the campground that adjoins this quarry were cruising around in a paddleboat, which stirred some sediment into motion also.
Because of all this activity the visibility, when there actually was visibility, reached no further than a foot-and-a-half.
Quarry diving is often solo diving because of the cloudiness of the water. Much of the time if you see your dive partner, you're bumping into him or tangling fins, which is usually your only indication that anyone is there.
No, visibility isn't always great, and if you feel nervous about diving alone maybe quarry diving isn't the most preferable activity. Still, if I can't make the trip to blue water, any time I have a chance to get wet, I jump in. It doesn't completely satisfy my addiction, but it helps.
I did see a couple of fish this day, but most of the dive I spent exploring gaps in the rocks, investigating mud.
About the Author
Joe Jackson is a PADI certified dive master who just enjoys being wet. His eBook, "Little Tweaks That Make Your Air Last - 13 Breathing Techniques To Become An Air Sipper." offers methods for conserving air.Get details at: Sip Your Air.
Visit Scuba Diving Underwater, for scuba articles, books, and diving accessories.
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