Yes, Eat Chocolate Before Diving

There is still a lot of discussion among researchers about the variables and specifics of how cocoa works positively on cardiovascular health, physical performance, and reducing risks of DCS, but it does.

Eat chocolate before diving — it’s not only delicious, it’s good for your dive health. Chocolate on the outside soothes the skin; chocolate on the inside soothes the soul and much more. Giving someone chocolate as a romantic gesture is no coincidence; it has long been touted for its aphrodisiac qualities. When ingested in small amounts, chocolate helps energize the body during exercise and assists post-workout replenishment of muscles. Best of all, chocolate has properties that help maintain heart health for divers and reduce the physiological stresses associated with decompression sickness (DCS), aiding in post-dive recovery.

There is still a lot of discussion among researchers about the variables and specifics of how cocoa works positively on cardiovascular health, physical performance, and reducing risks of DCS, but it does. Generally speaking, outcomes point to activation of nitric oxide (NOS) and antioxidant and anti-inflammatory effects.
You’ve got our permission to eat chocolate before diving, but a little bite goes a long way. An average chocolate bar is 40 to 45 grams, or about 1.5 ounces. According to the studies, ingestion of just 30 grams of dark chocolate one hour before diving can prevent something called endothelial dysfunction. Endothelium cells form an inner lining in blood vessels, where the presence of NOS and inflammation factor into the body’s ability to process substances going to and from the blood and body tissues. NOS hinders bubble formation. Simply stated, properties in dark chocolate help with off-gassing and prevention of DCS.

Eating chocolate before a workout helps maintain blood-glucose levels, higher insulin levels and reduces oxidative stress, helping divers exercise harder and longer, as well as build more muscle and recover faster. Divers wishing to lose body fat will benefit by eating chocolate after a workout to avoid interfering in fat loss. Dark chocolate or cocoa is the best choice and it is important to consume it within 45 minutes after exercise.

Low-fat or non-fat chocolate milk is recommended as one of the best post-workout recovery drinks. Some exercise enthusiasts crave chocolate milk after running or training at high intensities. Chocolate milk provides carbohydrates, protein and amino acids (the building blocks of protein), restoring tired muscles, providing energy to build muscle, speeding up recovery and preventing delayed-onset muscle soreness. Studies describe benefits from eating three to four ounces of dark chocolate prior to high-intensity exercise and workouts lasting at least 90 minutes. This equates to 1/4 cup of 70 percent dark cocoa powder added to milk, water or non-dairy milk. Reducing the portion of chocolate to 1/8 cup is a reasonable recommendation for less intense and shorter workouts.

Research also shows that chocolate helps prevent cardiovascular illness and high blood pressure, which rank at the top of medical conditions reported by divers. Plant-based nutrition is key to maintenance of health. Along with consuming fresh fruits and vegetables to help reduce the risk of coronary heart disease and stroke, divers can enjoy the fruit of the cocoa plant, which has a beneficial effect on blood pressure, insulin resistance and vascular and platelet function.

Remember to enjoy chocolate in moderation and avoid high fat and sugar varieties — this isn’t carte blanche to eat a Hershey Bar each day. Chocolate is categorized based on the amount of cocoa solids it contains; the lower the cocoa percentage, the more milk and sugar has been added and the lower concentration of benefits. Dark chocolate ranges from 35 to 80 percent cocoa solids. Baking chocolate is unsweetened and nearly 100 percent cocoa. Milk chocolate contains 20 percent or less of cocoa solids, and white chocolate is made from just the cocoa butter, vanilla, milk and sugar.

Article reprint courtesy and copyright: Gretchen M. Ashton, Scuba Diver Life. Original article appeared here: http://scubadiverlife.com/2016/01/25/dive-health-eat-chocolate-before-diving-really/

Florida May Ban Anchoring in the Intracoastal Waterway

This is about more than just sailboats and yachts that cruise - Florida may ban all overnight anchoring along the ICW if this passes. The subcommittee meets in less than half an hour! Send an email to or call Tallahassee!

http://www.browardpalmbeach.com/news/lawmakers-may-ban-anchoring-of-boats-in-intracoastal-waterway-7540456

Lawmakers May Ban Anchoring of Boats in Intracoastal Waterway

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Yachts anchored in Fort Lauderdale’s Middle River basin, which would be illegal if proposed legislation passes. Photo by:Branon Edwards

A battle is heating up between rich owners of waterfront property and boaters who, instead of docking, use anchors to keep their boats cheaply in the Intracoastal Waterway. The rich have argued that boaters ruin their view — especially ones that have abandoned decrepit vessels. Many boaters, however, contend that they are responsible and have rights to use the waterways.

As they say, “the squeaky wheel gets the grease.” In this case, the squeaky wheel appears to be wealthy property owners along Florida’s Intracoastal Waterway and the grease is a nasty bit of proposed legislation known in the House as as HB1051 and in the Senate as SB1260. Both bills in Tallahassee aim to make it illegal to anchor overnight in parts of the Intracoastal Waterway despite the waterway having been used for this purpose since its inception.

It seems that some Florida homeowners believe they have rights that extend past their property lines. They may not own the bay bottom, riparian rights, or even the air rights, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t feel that they’re entitled to an unobstructed view or privacy that extends beyond their legal ownership.

One Miami Beach homeowner who has become well-known in this debate is Frank Karlton, who went so far as to anchor dozens of small boats around his property to keep boaters away and “protect his privacy.” One would think that the resulting eyesore of his bird feces-encrusted dinghies without proper anchor lighting would have been worse than a few sailboats, but nevertheless, the violation went ignored by local law enforcement for quite some time.

While there are truly legitimate concerns about derelict vessels, the occasional disrespectful yahoo, and the irresponsible dumping of sewage and trash by a few offenders, derelict boats and scofflaw boat owners are not the only ones who will be affected by this legislation.

In speaking with Steven Kaufmann of the Seven Seas Cruising Association (SSCA), a group of active and concerned boating enthusiasts, it is apparent that the problem is actually more complex than just a few boats anchoring as they transit the Intracoastal. Kaufmann says, “One of the issues is that derelict boats get lumped in with actual cruisers. There is a huge difference between a derelict boat with an illegal permanent mooring and a cruiser who is at anchor temporarily on his way to the Caribbean.”

Cruisers are folks who live a good deal of their time traveling on their boats – think mom and pop driving cross country in their Winnebago for months or years at a time. By the nature of cruising (just like RV’ing), boat-owners have to maintain their vessels in good working order as a matter of safety and necessity; they buy fuel, food, boat parts, supplies, and generally spend money along the way in the various places they visit. They are, by and large, law abiding citizens who simply are enjoying life by traveling on their boats.

As with any group, there are also folks who break down, run out of money, or simply feel that they’re above the law. These boaters often allow their boats to intentionally or unintentionally become “derelicts”. Florida Statue §823.11 defines a derelict vessel as one “that is left, stored, or abandoned in a wrecked, junked, or substantially dismantled condition upon any public waters; at a port without the consent of the agency having jurisdiction thereof, or that is docked, grounded, or beached upon the property of another without the consent of the owner of the property.”

According to the FWC website, “Florida is plagued with many abandoned vessels. These vessels become derelict vessels quickly and then subject the boating public to safety issues, become locations for illegal activity, illegal housing, opportunities for theft and vandalism and ultimately cost the taxpayers to be removed by Local, County or State authorities.”

Kaufmann continued that, as a veteran and someone familiar with law enforcement, he understands that part of complexity of the issue is the enforcement itself. How does FWC, local police, and the Coast Guard determine which boats are transient and which are derelict? How long can a boat be unattended and not reasonably be derelict? What set of criteria is used? How far away from someone’s property line should someone be anchored? Where do those property lines and property rights actually terminate? How long can a boat be permitted to stay at anchor? Is the boat actually at anchor or is it on an illegal mooring?

Without clear delineations about what is legal and what is not, law enforcement is difficult, if not impossible. Of course, this is complicated by budget constraints of the various agencies and resources available to officers within a somewhat blurred jurisdiction anyway.

Cruisers frequently are forced to stay at anchorage far longer than they had originally intended simply because the weather or other extenuating circumstance don’t permit them to continue their trips as quickly as even they would like. Naturally, cruisers tend to congregate in protected anchorages, both for weather protection and for the social aspect of cruising.

Derelicts likewise congregate in areas of protected anchorage, but in contrast, they have very little intention of moving anytime soon, if ever. Many of these derelict boats have been sitting for years, slowly deteriorating, and becoming progressively more dangerous to navigation and the simple enjoyment of the waterway. Some are owned by folks who simply cannot afford to store them elsewhere, sell them, or have them disposed of properly once they’ve reached the end of their reasonable use.

Kaufmann and the SSCA have expended a significant amount of time and money to help educate the public, the property owners, and of course, legislators in Tallahassee, “We try to be good stewards of the communities and the water.” Their lobbying efforts include a recent press release that encourages boaters to make their voices heard by contacting their representatives. They also have a crowdfunding campaign dedicated to SSCA legislative efforts. According to Kaufmann, this money pays ONLY for the expenses of SSCA’s lobbying efforts. SSCA as a whole is a very active community that does a fair amount of outreach, including helping cruisers in distress from time to time.
In their official statement, they urge, “Your right to anchor in five Florida anchorages will be gone if HB1051 Recreational Boating Zones and its companion SB1260 pass. All overnight anchoring would be prohibited in Middle River in Broward County; Sunset Lake and the areas between Rivo Alto Island and Di Lido Island, San Marino Island and San Marco Island, San Marco Island and Biscayne Island all in Miami-Dade County; and Crab Island in Choctawhatchee Bay. More prohibitions will come if this law passes.

SSCA, the National Marine Manufacturers Association, and BoatUS, with support from the Marine Trawler Owner’s Association and the American Great Loop Cruisers Association are opposing these bills as written. HB1051 is scheduled to be heard in the Agriculture and Natural Resources Committee Tuesday January 26 at Noon. We need your help now.”

These specific areas of slated for prohibition have been anchoring areas for decades. Property owners in these areas were well aware of their use as anchorages before they purchased these properties. It would seem ludicrous that their simply changing their minds about seeing boats in the public waterway in proximity of their views could result in such destructive laws.

Wally Moran, cruiser and author of a number of waterway guides including a new guide on cruising to Cuba, reached out to fellow cruisers, “We cruisers are in trouble, big trouble this time. If this bill is allowed to pass, you can write off anchoring overnight in the entire state of Florida. That's right, the entire state.” As alarmist as this may seem, Moran is likely right. In an effort to appease a few vocal property owners, the legislature is putting forth sweeping change that will have massive impact both in the near and long terms. Other Florida municipalities are likely to ask for amendments to block anchoring in their communities as well.

Kaufmann insisted, “This legislation will take away anchoring opportunities for legitimate cruisers who are simply passing through,” and who are spending big money in Florida in the process. Florida benefits for untold millions in tourism dollars generated by cruisers each year.

In their effort to simplify the law enforcement process for derelict boats, HB1051 and SB1260 will essentially drive away legitimate cruisers from our state. A reasonable, thinking person would expect there to be some other way to address the derelict vessel problem without initiating the law of unintended consequences. In this case, unintended consequences could be a massive loss of tourism dollars, a rash of business closings in the marine services industries, including heavy job losses and perhaps even the loss of South Florida’s reputation as a true yachting destination.

Here is a link to a list of members of the Agriculture and Natural Resources Subcommittee: 

Branon Edwards is a licensed Florida real estate broker who also lives in a marina located on Middle River in Fort Lauderdale – swimming distance to one of the proposed anti-anchoring areas. 

Florida Alligator Hunting on Aqua Hunter

August 29, 2013 – Alligator Hunting on Aqua Hunter

During the 2013 SpearWars Spearfishing Tournament, I was the lucky winner of the $1,200 Alligator Hunt with Capt Todd Baily of Aqua Hunter. The trip included Capt Billy Black (the Emcee of the tournament, Force-E Divers, and resident celebrity) and Tony Grogan and crew were filming the event as well.

We met just before 5pm on Thursday, August 29 at Slim's FishCamp in Belle Glade, FL. Capt Billy, Capt Todd, Tony, and I were on one boat and Todd's first mate and the camera guys were on the other boat. We made a slow meandering down the Rim Ditch Canal to shoot some B-roll and get acquainted with the process and the gear involved.

I do all my fishing by speargun, so I hadn't had a fishing rod in my hands in quite some time. But, just like riding a bike, there are certain things you never forget. We made quite a few practice casts to get familiar with the weight of the gig (weighted treble hooks) with wire leader and 80lb braided line. One of the most important aspects of this type of gator hunting is your throwing range. Knowing how far you can throw comes in pretty handy once you're doing this at night by the lights of their eyes.

Once we were sufficiently warmed up, Capt Todd headed us North in the canal and within a few minutes spotted a monster out in the distance. We tried to get close, but the gator was fairly spooked. Given its size, chances are this was not the first time it had been stalked. Capt Todd estimated the size at 9ft or so by the head - it didn't breach its body out of the water.

Finally in range, I prepared to cast, but the alligator sunk into the murk. I made the cast anyway, but no joy. We opted to head into one of the feeder canals in the hopes of finding more options. The water was shallow, the hyacinths were thick, and the muck was chunky. Both boats kept getting their intakes plugged up causing them to begin to overheat. Needless to say, it was fairly slow going. It would occasionally open up or clear out and we would run a bit. We went through the Burned Bridges area and gingerly made it up to the Treehouse stopping at an old chickee hut along the way to stretch our legs.

Once past at the Treehouse, we opened it up skirting the edges of the grass to a quicker path back to the Rim Ditch Canal. While it was a quicker path, it certainly was a narrow one. Capt Todd masterfully piloted the 22-foot skiff we were on as if he had done it one hundred times before. We eventually reached the Rim Ditch Canal and headed back to our Tag-Designated Hunting Area. At this point, it was completely dark and we were spotlighting for the telltale glowing red eyes of the alligators. We approached three or four gators, but they submerged themselves before we could get close enough for a decent throw.

Capt Todd’s home-made headlamp made quite an impression and certainly made spotting an easy task. I wish I had taken a photo; it was exceptional comic relief (in a good way). Capt Todd switched to the trolling motor so we could try to make quieter approaches. As we meandered North toward where we had seen the big gator earlier, we pitched at a number gators to no avail. We finally decided to drift in the cove where I had casted on the big gator previously. Within ten to fifteen minutes, we started spotting eyes fairly regularly. Still, most were spooky and wouldn’t let us get close enough. We did have a small (5-6ft) gator swim straight toward the boat, but seeing it was fairly small, I didn’t make the cast.

We came across a spot where there were several gators on either side of the Rim Ditch. We tried casting at one and would slide across to the other when one would submerge. The excitement was building with each sighting and further with each cast. At one point, I thought I had hooked into a nice gator, but it turned out to be a submerged log or something equally innocuous. However, the film crew certainly came out of their lull and rifled into place. A few minutes of excitement subsided when we realized I was simply hung up and not hooked up.

There was a bigger gator on the East side of the ditch that surfaced and submerged in fairly quick succession. I made a throw, but was a little off – no luck. I suggested Capt Billy Black take a cast – maybe his aim would be better given his experience. His cast was also a bit off the mark, but fairly close. Not bad for his first cast of the night. For the record, trying to cast long distances in the dark is harder than you might think. Your reference point becomes two beady eyes in the beam of a flashlight. There are none of the tell-tale distance markers you normally use like trees, reeds, floating hyacinths, and so forth. All you can do is make your best guesstimate and make the toss. On top of that, you hear the splash, but you don’t usually see it, which makes it hard to judge where your hooks might be in relation to the prey.

By the time Capt Billy made his cast and started retrieving it, I had reeled in my line and was ready for another cast. The gator looked like he was getting ready to submerge (eyes getting smaller as it starts to go under), so I decided to put a little extra shoulder into it. The gator was moving West across the canal and my throw was just to the right of him. As the weighted treble hook splashed the water, the gator went down. Just as Capt Todd had taught me, I let it sink and pulled it steadily. As luck would have it, the gator’s trajectory and my line crossed paths. I felt the line rubbing along its back and when the resistance kicked in, I set the hook. Fish on! Well, Gator On!!

The drag of the rod started screaming, the tip of the rod bent like I had hooked bottom, but the line was steadily moving into the depth of the canal. Capt Todd maneuvered us closer to the gator while the camera boat slid into position to catch the action. Keeping steady pressure on the line is imperative to keep the hooks in place. The gator’s skin is so thick that you’re not likely to penetrate and really set the hook. Chances are that you’ve just got the tip of the hook in a piece of loose skin or on one of the ‘horns’ on the back. Any slack is likely to result in the weight pulling the point out and losing its grip.

I kept steady pressure on the line cranking us in ever closer to the gator. He made a couple of quick runs, but clearly had sounded to the deepest spot he could find at about 15 feet deep. My efforts to try to move him off the bottom with the rod were pointless. At this point, Capt Todd said it was time for the grappling hooks. Basically, these are larger versions of the same treble hooks I’m already using, but with much larger hooks and secured with thin rope to the gunwales of the boat. This gator clearly had played this game before.

He kept himself under the boat and each throw came up empty. It was like he knew where the grapple hook was and simply stepped out of the way each time Capt Todd tried to secure him. Capt Todd threw more than a dozen times and each time, the gator slyly stepped aside. Capt Billy joined the fray and made a few tosses as well. Each of us was strategizing where he must be based on the bubbles, the movement of the fishing line, and the lack of result from the previous toss. Finally, Capt Billy found the mark and set the hook. We would learn later that he caught the left fear foot – just enough to get the leverage we needed to bring the gator up from the murk.

Still keeping tension on the fishing line, Capt Billy started pulling the gator up. Not enjoying the disturbance, the gator would take back the gains that Capt Billy had just finished ratcheting in by hand. Being sure not to tangle himself in the line, Capt Billy was undeterred and kept pressure on bringing the gator up. Finally, the tail breached the surface and nearly our entire boat got wet as what we now realized was a sizeable gator thrashed about. I think we were all pretty surprised at the size of the gator, and of course, having him head down is not the optimum position anyway. He rolled and broke the 80lbs braided line. I traded the fishing pole for another grapple and made the toss. I hooked up, which gave us a bit more leverage – two lines meant we had a better than average chance of bringing the gator into the boat. 

Several thrashes and nasty growls later, Capt Todd was standing by with the Bang Stick. Loaded with a .44 Magnum shell, the stick basically has to make direct powerful contact to fire the bullet. Capt Todd expertly placed a shot just behind the eyes. The noise was deafening and the blowback again sprayed us down. Tony’s camera took a direct splash, so he was frantically trying to clean the lens to catch more of the action. The gator was still thrashing about so Capt Billy and I maneuvered the gator around for another shot. Capt Todd put another well-placed shot into the gator with a thundering boom. The gator fell limp, and we started to move around to pull it into the boat. You have to get the head up to tape the mouth shut as a safety precaution. Their nervous system will sometimes send a reflex action and they’ll thrash their head around. An unsecure mouth could mean a nasty injury – always better safe than sorry.

Capt Billy used the push pole to lift the gator’s head while I reached for the duct tape. I know that the “Gator Boys” prefer electrical tape, but wider, stickier duct tape was just fine by me. As Capt Billy lifted the gator’s head up, it turned back and chomped down on the push pole. Capt Todd was already poised with another shot in the bang stick and made one last contact to end the struggle. We grabbed a small hand-gaff and Capt Todd connected under the bottom jaw. I reached down and grabbed the loose skin under the mouth and pulled him toward the boat.

We brought the head up over the gunwale and I secured the mouth closed with the duct tape. It took all three of us to lift the gator into the boat. He was quite the monster. Of course, all the cameras start coming out with photos all around. There were congratulatory handshakes and Tony doing play by play. We made our way back to the dock to untangle the mass of grappling lines and ice down the gator for transport. Measuring it out, it was exactly 10 feet 6 inches. Apparently, it’s fairly uncommon for a first-timer to come away with such an amazing trophy, but I credit Capt Todd and crew for knowing where to go and being excellent teachers.

 For the record, I was taught from an early age that you never point your gun at something you don’t plan to shoot… you don’t shoot anything you don’t plan to kill… and you don’t kill anything you don’t plan to eat (except in self-defense, of course). This alligator is no exception. Capt Todd dropped the gator off at “Skinning and Grinning”, a local wild game processor. The meat will be sent to a local butcher who specializes in wild game and is apparently famous for amazing Alligator Sausage. The belly skin will be tanned over the course of the next year to produce Alligator Leather, which I will use to make some trophy fashion items. I’ve got designs on a few new alligator belts, but also lots of wonderful meals with friends and family. Nothing will go to waste.

I want to take a moment to thank Tony Grogan and his film crew for taking the time to come out and film the event. I’m sincerely looking forward to seeing the video after it has been edited. Thanks to Capt Billy Black for his experience and insight as well as immense help in wrestling the monster into submission. And of course, sincere thanks to Capt Todd Baily, his first mate, and Aqua Hunter Charters for not only donating the alligator adventure to the SpearWars Prize table, but also for giving me an experience that I will remember for the rest of my life. I had an absolutely amazing time and clearly, it made quite the impression.

If you ever find yourself interested in going on an Alligator Hunting Adventure, I would whole-heartedly recommend Captain Todd and Aqua Hunter. He offers other charters as well including spearfishing, scuba diving, lobstering, and fishing. Apparently, he’s quite the accomplished bowfisherman as well. Having been on several of his spearfishing charters (thanks to a previous donation to the SpearWars tournament prize table), I can tell you that he knows his way around the ocean just as well as he knows the swamp.

For more information, visit his website: http://www.Aqua-Hunter.com

Contact information:

Aqua Hunter Charters

105 Lake Shore Drive

Lake Park, FL 33403

TeamTodd65@aol.com

561-723-4412

About the Author: Dr. Branon A. Edwards is a PADI Certified Divemaster who has been freediving, scuba diving, and spearfishing since he was 9 years old. He is an accomplished spearfisherman, diver, and hunter and has decades of experience in each.

Disclaimer: Like all hunting activities, Alligator Hunting is a dangerous sport that requires proper planning, training, experience, licenses, permits, and ability. As with any wild game, alligators are unpredictable and nothing replaces experience, professional guidance, and a multitude of safety precautions. While this story was experienced safely, the results of this narrative are not common and should not be relied upon as an expectation of your own experience. Neither the author nor the charter take any responsibility for the actions of anyone who may read this content. This is a hazardous activity and is not for everyone. In other words, don’t be a moron – be safe, pay attention, and avoid danger wherever possible.

Tapping the new “Real Time Web” <--- FAST video

SUBJECT: Tapping the new “Real Time Web” <--- FAST video

I just finished watching this new video from traffic whiz Anthony Morrison, and I had to be the first to share this with you:

==> http://157155yqg4u2jn71ef40piihfv.hop.clickbank.net/?tid=FLORIDASPEARFISHING

Why?

#1, Anthony’s opening up for the first time about a traffic GAME CHANGER he’s calling the “Real Time Web Effect” (hint: it’s affecting you *already* if you’re trying to make money online)…

… and #2, I think you’ll agree this video’s a little “different” than the usual “marketing” stuff (especially the part with the exploding apple).

Bottom line: This video is about SPEED (you’ll see what I’m talking about in just a second)…

… so if you want to catch it before it’s gone, click the link below to watch it right now, while it’s on your mind:

==> http://157155yqg4u2jn71ef40piihfv.hop.clickbank.net/?tid=FLORIDASPEARFISHING

Talk Soon,

ArtMeister

P.S. You might have seen Anthony on TV (anywhere from his own show to CNN), but he’s NEVER shared what he’s talking about right here:

==> http://157155yqg4u2jn71ef40piihfv.hop.clickbank.net/?tid=FLORIDASPEARFISHING

Southwest Florida Open Spearfishing Tournament 2011

"Southwest Florida Open Spearfishing Tournament"

OR "Why Randy Docks Rocks"

Disclaimer: Please note that Scuba Diving and Spearfishing are inherently dangerous sports and should only be undertaken by experienced, well-trained divers. As you will read, there are unforeseen circumstances and choices to be made that can have sometimes irreparable consequences. You should never dive alone and your equipment should be serviced and experienced regularly. You should always plan your dive and dive your plan. You should discuss safety precautions, your plan, and contingency plans with everyone onboard BEFORE you dive. Communication among divers and operators is imperative. Please do not attempt anything mentioned or implied herein. The author is a Certified Divemaster, has been a certified diver for over 28 years with countless open water dives.

The Southwest Florida Spearfishing Club http://swflspearfishing.com puts on a great spearfishing tournament each year. Our spearfishing team, Team Dumpster Diver, is lovingly named for my dive buddy's boat. The boat, 'Mental Health', is an early 70s Bertram 28 Sportfish. Anyone who knows this boat knows that they designed the rudders a bit too small for the weight of the boat, and thus, it's steering response time is sluggish (being kind). Those of us who have piloted this behemoth (a compliment) liken being at the helm to trying to steer a dumpster. The name stuck. 

However, Team Dumpster diver tends to actually shoot its tournaments off a lovely retired 28-foot Mako law enforcement vessel owned by our Daytona Beach-based Captain, Chiung Tien. He and his usual first mate, Mike McKenney, are one half of the team, and Randy Docks and I make up the other half of the team. The team roster has changed here and there over the years as previous team members added to their families, switched coasts, or simply couldn't keep up the harried tournament pace that we refer to as 'Guerilla Diving'. 

Randy and I are the only remaining original members, and we've been diving together regularly for over 10 years. Anyone who has ever been in a relationship with either of us, including my wife of over 7 years, will tell you that we are moody, demanding, and both dominant personalities. You wouldn't think that two type-A personalities could be dive buddies. While there are certainly exceptions, there is usually one leader and one follower in any buddy team. The leader tends to be either the dominant personality or the more experienced diver. 

Somehow, Randy and I have learned not only how to put up with each other with relative ease, but also knowing how and when to lead or follow rather seamlessly without any ego interference. Again, anyone who knows either of us will imagine that pretty difficult to believe as we're both pretty competitive and one-upmanship is an art form between us. As an example, I once shot a 62-pound amberjack with a Riffe C2XS speargun on a 4-day liveaboard trip in the Dry Tortugas. I was extremely proud of my achievement until Randy one-upped me with a 70-pounder the very next day. Jibes and ribbing are a regular part of our dive rituals, and they may seem almost nasty to an unknowing outsider. It's all meant in good fun and I don't think either has ever offended the other.

All this being said, you now have enough background information for all this to make sense. On with the diving!

Randy and I arrived at Chiung's bachelor pad on the intracoastal waterway in Daytona Beach late Friday evening after driving separately - Randy from Coral Springs; me from Hollywood. Having injured my back the previous week lifting an art sculpture, I had spent most of the pre-tournament week at the offices of my physical therapist and my chiropractor, Dr. Rael Gilchrist (Care Medical Centers - HIGHLY recommended and, for the record, they're not a paid sponsor). The 4-hour drive had left me stiff and sore, but we unloaded the tanks from our vehicles and into the boat - 4 steel tanks each filled with varying mixes of Nitrox to accommodate the various depths we might encounter. 

We jumped in the boat and headed for the fuel dock in the dark. We had a great conversation with the dock attendant. He made the mistake of asking us what all the tanks were for, and we gladly obliged and lengthy answer that turned into a full-on discussion about spearfishing and spearfishing tournaments. I think we've converted that mild-mannered springs diver into a spearo. Over $300 in fuel and we were headed back to Chiung's. The rest of the evening was spent game-planning, consolidating our 3 oversized ditch bags into one to save space, and restringing my new Riffe C4XS teak speargun. 

After getting everything situated and finalizing our plans with Mike by telephone, we called it a night with Randy crashing on the couch and me on the floor with some pads and a sleeping bag. Unfortunately, this would prove to be a bad idea given my recent spinal issues. This coupled with another thing Randy and I have in common, snoring like gorillas, neither of us got much sleep and 5:30am came VERY early. We grabbed some bananas for breakfast and headed to the dock. While putting my dive bag into the dock trolley, I pulled the trapezius muscles on both sides of my spine. It literally took my breath away. I did some stretches against the railings and my dive buddies helped pick up the slack. Once loaded we were headed down the intracoastal toward Ponce Inlet. The waterway was calm, the pelicans were just awakening, and Randy and I tried to catch a little nap in the beanbag chairs Chiung so generously supplied. 

DIVE ONE

I did some meditation and tried to focus on calming the spasms along my spine as well as setting our intentions for big fish and a safe day of diving. Over 20 miles offshore, we arrived at our first dive spot, which is essentially a small ledge rising ever so slowly off the sea bottom to a height of about 5 feet. It's essentially a crack in the sea floor where one edge is higher than the other. Chiung skillfully positioned the boat on the spot via GPS and Mike tossed the marker buoy into the water on cue. Randy and I geared up and rolled backwards into the drink.

Randy and I used to diving in South Florida with the coldest of water temperatures typically in the 70s. A 3-mil is the thickest wetsuit we're likely to wear, even in winter. We might add a beanie hood when it gets chilly, but in Daytona, we're wearing 5-mil suits and full 5-mil hoods. The catch is that the temperature on the boat is in the 80s, so you're sweating and getting almost overheated while you're gearing up, only to plunge into what feels like an ice bath. Then, as you descend, the clear surface layer gives way to a scum layer and then a thermalkline - a cold layer of water that you can literally feel and see as you descend into it. 

We followed the buoy line down loading our spearguns along the way. The visibility was only about 20 feet and I had lagged behind a bit. The only thing I could see of Randy were the yellow surface markers rolled up and attached to his fish stringers. This allows the diver to send fish to the surface in case the 'Tax Man' shows up. This is a term most spearos use to refer to sharks. While we don't see them all the time, they do come in to get their 'fair share' in the form of a free meal, or at least an attempt at one, from time to time. We wouldn't see any sharks during this trip; a disappointment and a relief simultaneously.

As we reached the end of the buoy line, we regrouped, gave each other that knowing look and headed for the ledge. I saw a large snapper circling ahead of me and I took a bead while assessing the size and species. Red Snapper is currently out of season, so it's important to know what you're shooting BEFORE you pull the trigger. I could hear Randy's telltale muffled "Nuh-Uh" as I, too, realized this was a good-sized red snapper. I turned my attention on a nice sheephead and pulled the trigger for a gill-shot. While I was putting my first fish on the stringer, a 7-pound sheephead, Randy was eyeing a bigger target. I was clipping the stringer when I heard Randy's Deathstick (brand name, not nickname) go off. 

I looked up to see a cloud of sand and Randy running his hand down the shock cord to a big swirling snapper. This would turn out to nearly be a Florida State Record as a 15-pound mangrove snapper. I moved passed Randy to find another snapper popping in and out of the ledge. This one's profile looked correct (not like a red snapper) and I let the spear fly. As I got the fish in hand, Randy was swimming by me. At this point, my snapper had gone completely silver, which is a telltale sign of red snapper. I pointed to the fish with a questioning look on my face in a rare moment of doubt. Randy mistook my pointing at the fish and shrugging as I was bragging, so he shook his head, "Yes" and swam to the next spot. Before I could get reloaded, Randy was fighting another big snapper. With the sheephead and the snapper both bleeding on my stringer, I decided to send it up. I opened up the surface marker (aka Safety Sausage), inflated it and sent it upward to be picked up by the boat. I heard the boat engine speed up, so I knew they had seen it and were moving to recover it.

Remember what I said about each of us working together and knowing when to lead or follow? This method of hunting is basically like playing leapfrog. You leave the guy with the fish and the coral head he just shot it at and move to the next spot. This leaves him free to double-check the spot before moving on to the next one. Randy and I have never discussed this, it is just something we both do automatically. It's essentially a courtesy - to let the other guy finish off a spot without swooping in and picking off something he may already have in mind or have seen skulk into a particular hole.

I spotted a legal grouper with a 'hair cut', which means someone has attempted to spear it, but it pulled off and is now wounded. I figured Randy must have missed this one, but I had designs for a bigger grouper at another spot we had planned, so I didn't take the shot. Instead, I picked up another mangrove snapper, this one turned out at 8 pounds. I reloaded with a bit of trouble having gotten my flashlight tangled in my shock cord - something I should have remedied, which will become important later. As I recovered and reloaded, Randy approached me with 3 big snapper on his stringer. He grunted through his regulator and pointed behind me where I found a surface marker that had become detached from my stringer and was now rolling along the sea bottom. I picked it up, reattached it to my stringer, and checked my computer. We had been at 105 feet long enough and it was time to surface. I signaled to Randy and he agreed. I sent the second snapper to the surface to lighten my load. 

As we ascended from the bottom, we realized we were entering a swarm of jellyfish. The jellies were 3 to 5 inches across with tentacles streaming under them sometimes 4 to 5 feet long. Mostly protected by neoprene, I turned my back into the current so they would wash over me as I headed up. As we often do, we ascended facing each other about 10 feet apart. Unfortunately, a tentacle from one of the jellyfish wrapped itself firmly between Randy's upper lip and his regulator and sent a searing sting. This would continue to irritate his lip the remainder of the day with a scab actually forming the next day. We completed a 3-minute safety stop to help our bodies process the nitrogen in our bloodstreams before finally breaking the surface and signaling the OKAY sign to Chiung and Mike sitting watch near our bubbles while we're under. They picked us up without incident.

When entering the boat, Randy and I walk forward with our gear to keep the cockpit clear. Chiung and Mike's gear were already set up and ready to go. Randy and I got out of our gear and discussed whether or not the site was worthy of a second dive. Randy and both believed it was, so we positioned them near the buoy and down they went. About 15 minutes later a large safety sausage breached the surface with a large silver-white figure attached. This turned out to be Mike's nearly 40-pound amberjack. Chiung hit the surface with a nice gag grouper and a smaller legal amberjack. Unfortunately, the marker had actually dragged the bottom and was some 100 feet from the ledge. When they reached the bottom, they followed the drag marks back to the ledge. They lost valuable time and were somewhat winded fighting the current.

While the second half of our team was under (2 Up / 2 Down), Randy and I switched tanks and got re-situated for our next dive. This included putting color-coded zip ties in our fish and putting them in the cooler... after a photo-op, of course. 

DIVE TWO

After running West a bit to our next stop, we geared up for a spot that had produced a sheephead and a gag grouper for each member of the team last July. The viz (visibility) was good here, and because the depth was only 80 feet, it was also significantly brighter. The downside is that, while we could see the fisher further away, they could also see us coming. The spot produced two doormat-sized flounder for Randy along with a nice sheephead. I shot another big sheephead, but he spun off. I ended up finding a ledge filled with snapper and sheephead and aligned my one shot to bag one of each. It took me a minute to get them out from under the ledge and the shaft emerged, Randy was right next to me, apparently headed my way to render assistance, if necessary. This time it wasn't, but it was nice to know that, as always, Randy had my back. 

We swam through the swarms of juvenile fish looking for more opportunities, but finally decided to call it a dive. Our relatively short surface interval left us with a shortened NDL (no decompression limit) on this dive. We surfaced through a smaller school of jellies. The water column during our safety stop was absolutely gorgeous and bright blue. We both spun around slowly keeping an ever-watchful eye open for cobia and sharks. We would spend these 3 minutes devoid of any sea life other than jellyfish. The water was clear enough for the boat to actually see us, so they were doing laps around us just waiting for us to surface.

This time, we suggested Chiung and Mike not bother with this spot. We ran a pretty good distance over to a new spot with concrete culverts on the bottom. They had seen cobia on this spot the week before and wanted to give it a go. They would come up with a number of snapper and some sheephead, but no cobia. For our next dive, Chiung suggested a shipwreck for a better chance to pick up amberjack and/or cobia. Randy and I agreed. I had filled my snapper and sheephead categories for the tournament and was now setting my sites on grouper, cobia, and amberjack. While hogfish were also a category, they're fairly rare in the Daytona area, so we weren't expecting much in that department. 

DIVE THREE

We arrived at the site, and Chiung and Mike ever so skillfully used the GPS to drop the marker right where it needed to be, next to the wreck. He gave us both instructions on places on the wreck they had seen grouper in the past, including directions on a cubby hole in the nose of the bow where they had seen a big grouper. Randy and I descended into a milky fog and didn't see the wreck until we were almost on top of it. I was slightly ahead of Randy in categories and let him lead to where Chiung had suggested. Unfortunately, his instructions were a little off. Randy and I arrived at where we expected to find a torpedo hole and instead found solid hull. We both looked at each other a bit puzzled. I thought perhaps I had heard "port" instead of "starboard" and went to investigate. Randy went down the port side and over the aft part of the ship in search for entry points.

I rounded over the bow and toward the pilothouse. I swam through and didn't see much lurking in the dark. I swam back to the bow and decided to descend through an open hatch on the front deck. As I slid into the darkness, I saw two large porkfish making a speedy exit. I turned on my light, which was tethered to the chest D-ring of my BCD, and I spun around to assess my surroundings. I found the torpedo hole right where Chiung had suggested, except about three quarters of the way up the ship instead of along the bottom, as Randy and I both had understood. I looked around for any sign of Randy, and not finding any, I decided to check the cubbyhole. Sure enough, there was a big grouper sitting right where our knowledgeable captain had instructed. 

At that moment, I heard the telltale boom of a Goliath Grouper. I would learn later it was Randy moving through a cargo hold and surprising one. The boom is a sound they make by contracting their massive muscles and flapping their gills closed. If you've ever been near a Goliath when they boom, you realize that you can actually feel it as well as hear it. I didn't feel it, but the boom coupled with the darkness had me double-checking the grouper to ensure it wasn't a juvenile Goliath. I shined the light on him looking for any of the brown skin or dark spots and to try to see if I could see whether or not his tail was square or rounded. A quick rule of thumb is that if the grouper has a rounded tail, you cannot shoot it. Nassau Grouper and Goliath Grouper both have rounded tails. Most other groupers, excluding scamp, have a squared tail. 

The angle the fish was in made it impossible to see the tail, but he was camouflaged entirely black. I made a quick assessment of the rest of the cubbyhole to make sure there wasn't an even bigger fish in the back, only to see a beautifully colored Queen Angel Fish busily trying to find an exit. I returned my light to the grouper, took aim at his forehead, and squeezed. The cubbyhole exploded with sediment, and I saw the thrashing form trying to break free. I ran my left arm through the bands of my Riffe C3XS all the way to the shoulder while grabbing the shock cord and following it up toward the shaft. The shaft was clearly stuck in the wreck and the grouper was thrashing about pretty vigorously. I had, of course, let go of my flashlight to use both hands to grab the fish and the shock cord. I pinned the fish between my left hand and either the wreck or the end of the shaft and slid my right hand into his gills, turned him upside down, and pulled him toward me.

At this point, I realized that he was pretty well tangled, and so was I. Only seeing by ambient light, I reached down for a stringer. The shock cord was also wrapped around the stringer so I had a little difficulty getting it unhinged. I pulled a bit harder on the grouper and could feel the line dragging as I did indicating that it was wrapped and tangled, but not knotted - a good sign. Unfortunately, my light had gotten entangled in the shock cord, so I couldn't see much. To make matters worse, having the light entangled also meant that I couldn't put light on the lanyard side of the flashlight to figure out how to untangle it. Taking a second to think it through, I positioned the fish so the flashlight would reflect off the fish and back toward itself so I could unloop it successfully. I got the stringer through the fishes gill and out his mouth and secured the clip. I slipped my left hand into his gills and my right hand started moving toward my gauge console.

Knowing that I was pretty well embedded in the wreck, my years of experience told me that I needed to fully assess my situation. This precise moment and my next thoughts and actions could have a profound impact on the ending of this story. It is at these moments that so many divers make bad choices or simply lose their calm and panic with dire results. The keys to any situation you encounter while diving is to always keep yourself calm and think through your options. A simple entanglement can turn into something deadly in mere moments.

In assessing my predicament, my first look was to my computer. I had 16 minutes of bottom time left - PLENTY! My next look was to my pressure gauge, which showed 2500psi - GOLDEN! I took a calming breath and readied myself for the business at hand; getting myself out of this rusting steel tomb and back to open ocean. In my assessment, my worst-case scenario was cutting myself free and losing a $75 steel spear shaft - truly a small price to pay for my safe return the surface. My plan was to first quiet the restless fish to decrease my task load and limit the potential for attracting predators. Secondly, I would attempt to free myself for a few minutes, and if unsuccessful, I would cut the line and head up. 

Like most divers, I am a creature of habit. I put my gear on the same way each time, take it off the same way each time, and pack it with equivalent monotony. Doing so creates patterns that get ingrained and allow you to react from instinct rather than having to think through each step. I carry a dive knife on EVERY dive, without exception, even if I'm just getting in the water to cool off. You never know when a sneaky piece of monofilament might find its way around you. I had just added a set of dive shears to my BCD's cummerbund, so I have redundancy should I not be able to reach something or if I were to lose something along the way.

As I slid my right hand down my right calf for my knife, a halo formed over my shoulder from above. Before I could determine whether or not I was having a religious experience, Randy appeared through the hatch and floated down beside me. He looked at me and the tangled mess as if to ask for guidance. I pointed toward the shaft, pulled on the line so he could see it was stuck. That signal was all he needed. He calmly and meticulously surveyed the cragged landscape and found a safe path toward the shaft, which was firmly embedded in the rusting metal.

I put my hand through the lanyard and pulled out my knife in one fluid movement - a move I've made dozens if not scores of times. A single insertion and twist and my catch was done thrashing about and pushing me to and fro into beams and other sharp structure. Dropping the knife from my grasp, the lanyard held it firmly within close reach. I unfastened the swivel at the end of the shock cord releasing the line and pulling it backward out of the fish. I ran my fingers over the line from back to front to see if there were any loops or knots. At much the same moment, Randy emerged from the cubbyhole, with the spear freed and handed it back to me. He waited patiently for me to get everything reconnected, gave me the OKAY signal, which I returned. He paused as if to assess my condition to make sure I wasn't just reacting. He could tell I was calm and collected, so he then slid out through the torpedo hole as if floating on a breeze surrealistically like an angel through a hole in heaven.

When I told this story later on dry land, I referred to Randy as 'My Guardian Angel'. Again, anyone who knows him is probably laughing hysterically right now. While making light of the situation, I sincerely thanked him for the helping hand. I had done similarly for him last July during the Spearboard Open when a grouper had threaded his shock cord through a maze of beams and pipes on a deep wreck at the outskirts of recreational diving depths. He had returned the favor, though neither of us have or would ever keep tabs. Granted, if it were a repeat occurrence, I'm sure one would take the other aside for a serious heart-to-heart on dive safety.

All kidding aside, THIS is precisely why there isn't another person I know with whom I'd rather scuba dive. Having not seen me for a couple minutes, he went looking. Having seen a steady flow of bubbles coming from inside the wreck, he came in to investigate. He didn't assert himself and try to take over, as I've seen many other divers do. Instead, he looked first for an indication of whether or not I looked like I was in trouble. Not finding panic on my face, he knew I wasn't in danger. Looking for guidance and receiving it, he went to work helping me without pushing a particular agenda. Once everything was okay and we exchanged the OKAY sign, he moved on to the purpose of our dive - spearing fish. 

There are plenty of guys I enjoy diving with, but Randy is my Guerilla Diving buddy. When the going gets tough, and we've got a definitive purpose, we both appreciate having someone in the water with us who truly knows how we will react to almost any situation or marine encounter. We frequently dive on Randy's boat (The Dumpster), and usually with other divers. In these cases, we generally split up, each one of us choosing to lead the dive and the divers we're with and leaving the other on the boat to man the helm. There's a great deal of comfort in knowing your Captain will be there when you surface. Chiung and Mike have also proven themselves time and again in this regard, and we happily return the favor.

Free and composed, I was ready to get back to business. After one more look around to make sure a curious snapper hadn't shown up, I turned off my light and moved toward the exit. When I exited the hold and came over the top of the wreck, I inflated my surface marker and sent the grouper topside. By the way, we use yellow for fish and red to mark ourselves coming up so the boat knows the difference. 

Coming toward the stern I saw a steady stream of bubbles and a Deathstick flowing tethered in the mix. I realized Randy had picked up a fish; a nice sheephead. I swam by to see if he needed help, which he did not, so I continued around the wreck once more. I could hear the boat running overhead most likely picking up my fish, which turned out to be a 16-pound gag grouper. Nearing the end of our time on the bottom, we both crested the top of the wreck to await incoming amberjack or cobia through the schools of baitfish and spadefish that were swarming overhead. No joy. We decided to end the dive and ascended slowly trying to stay in or close to the school, just in case.

As we clicked through the time at our safety stop, we both noticed the waves seemed a bit heavier. When we popped our heads up out of the water, we could see that a squall had settled in and had been beating our teammates ragged while we frolicked below. We gave the OKAY sign to the boat, and as Chiung pulled the boat closer, he yelled to us to inflate and remove our BCDs to make it easier to get back into the boat with the huge waves pounding around us. They picked up Randy on the first pass and came back for me on the second. Handing my tank up, the wave practically floated it into the boat. 

There were white-capped waves everywhere, a howling wind, pounding rain, and a 20-degree drop in temperature. Chiung made the call to end the trip and we headed back in toward shore. Over two hours later, shivering, cold, and wet from the pelting rain, it was nice to see the inlet. We would soon be back at the dock unloading the boat, loading our vehicles, and assessing our catch. A bit of sleep, a 4:30am alarm, and a 4-hour drive later, we arrived at the weigh-in in Fort Myers.

My parents and my 89 year-old grandmother attended the weigh-in with us. It was the first time they had been to a spearfishing competition, and they were impressed by the camaraderie and the variety of fish and competitors. It was a lot to take in, but they seemed to fit right into scene. It was a great joy to have them there with us cheering us on, and we appreciated their taking time out of their day to spend it with us - fish guts and all.

Chiung and I placed in the Top 10 of the tournament and the team did well overall. If not for a 30-pound Cubera, Randy would have taken the biggest snapper trophy. For want of another 6 ounces, I would have had largest sheephead. Chiung filled the most categories with all except cobia and hogfish, and Mike's amberjack was in the running for a while also. We all got our turn at the prize table and spent quite awhile filleting fish after the tournament. 

After all, we don't shoot anything we don't plan to kill, and we don't kill anything we don't plan to eat. After portioning, my personal catch will provide 30 meals for my wife and me, friends, and family. We eat fish usually more than 3 times per week, so nothing will go to waste. Even the trimmings were returned to the sea as food for smaller fish, and of course, the pelicans begging at the dock. Unlike line fishing or most types of commercial fishing, I am in direct control over the exact species and size of the fish I harvest. We've seen a lot of whacky fishing regulations and closures in recent years, which we pay special attention to along with other changes in bag limits, closures, size requirements, and aggregate limits. While the politicos often make things up as they go along, scientifically based regulations are welcomed by just about every diver and fisherman I know. We all know that conservation of this fragile resource is imperative if future generations are to enjoy not only our sport, but also the occasional fresh fish for dinner.

Dive safe and fair winds.

        

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For those of us who were online when PayPal first hit the scene, we remember the incentives that they offered to get folks to join their service. PayPal paid a referral fee for every person a member referred who joined their new 'revolutionary' service. While it certainly helped expand PayPal's reach in an effective and viral way, it also was a very lucrative referral system for those who referred their friends; a win-win scenario.

There is a new service now on the scene called PayBox. PayBox is in their pre-launch phase with the launch anticipated to be in 2011. As with any financial service, they need to have a solid customer base before they officially get off the ground.

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