Photo: Golden Gorgonian Sea Fan at Night/Credit: Michael Bear
In the Winter of 2004, my dive buddy, Barbara and I had just completed our PADI Advanced class and were taking the PADI Deep Class, which certified you to 130 ft., when we met up with the instructor before the weekly night dive he was leading with the UCSD Dive Clubin the parking lot next to Scripps Institute of Oceanography, off La Jolla Shores Drive.
Members of this club were all experienced , some might say rather ‘cocky’ divers, who were familiar with the topography and surface conditions off Blacks Beach and would frequently ‘push the limits’ imposed on recreational divers.
As I pulled into the parking lot near Scripps, our instructor ambled over to the window of my car and said nonchalantly, “By the way, Mike, I thought I’d give you a ‘three-fer’ tonight and certify you on Night and Underwater Navigation, at the same time we’re finishing up your final Deep Class.”
At first, I was glad to hear that I could walk away with not one , but three certifications in one night, but then , cautiously, I asked him what this might entail.
“Oh,” he said, casually, “ I’m going to have you ‘Jump the Gap’ on Scripps tonight and navigate from one side of the canyon to the other and back and then take us back in to shore underwater.”
Immediately, my mouth went dry: this was no mean feat: he was telling me that I would have to, in effect, leap across the Black Void, between the two walls of Scripps Canyon, at 130 ft., navigate across, using only my compass, to the other side and back, a distance of 80–100 ft., between two canyon walls that were in water hundreds of feet deep — at night.
Okaay…..
This was not what I had been expecting……
But, what could I do? I couldn’t really refuse the offer of 3 certifications in one night, now could I?
Barbara and I suited up and put on our gear, all the while, my heart was pounding. This would be a true test of my abilities as a ‘hardcore diver’ with a ‘hardcore’ dive club.
Shaking my head at the thought, we made the long trudge down the 600 ft cliff which led from the parking lot above Black’s Beach, weighted down with both with my thoughts and the 90 lbs of SCUBA gear on my back, to the beach below, just as the sun was setting over the ocean, a fiery orange globe disappearing over the edge of the world.
I wondered what this night would have in store for me. I noticed my pulse quickened as we approached the mighty waves of Black’s Beach, which served as a Mecca for surfers from all over San Diego, as they crashed heavily onto the sand, sending up plumes of white frothy foam.
After fighting our way through the 6 ft. surf, we began the 20 minute swim Westward towards the Green Buoy which marked the edge of Scripps Canyon, about 100 yards offshore.
B y the time we all arrived at the Green Marker Buoy, it was pitch dark out, and the only thing visible were the dive lights being carried by each diver, flicking on, one by one, as we prepared to drop into the abyss below.
My instructor gave a quick briefing: “OK, everyone, get ready to drop,” and then addressed me:
“Mike: I’ll lead us North along the Canyon wall at about 130 ft., and then, when I give the signal, I want you to take the lead and navigate us over to the other side and North along the opposite wall of Canyon for about 10 minutes, and then lead us back across to the other side and from there, we’ll head in to the beach.”
Fig.1: Scripps Canyon Descent line is marked ’75 ft. Buoy Line.’ ‘Fishhead’ gap marked by the two red parallel lines at red ‘400’ number (not actual depth) Credit: blog.uwxplorer.net
Scripps Canyon resembles a giant V, with the North Branch facing north, and the southern branch, Sumner, pictured above, angling more Eastward.
Jumping the Gap,’ at night requires a diver to take a compass heading while at the East side of the canyon and, head in a Westerly direction until he or she arrives at the other side, a journey of anywhere between 50 and 100 ft., depending on where in the V-shaped crevice she begins the trip.
Starting too soon [or, too far South] puts a diver heading West at the widest part of the V, and a journey of more than 200 ft. across.
Also: we would be diving at the lower reaches of recreational diving: 130 ft., where Nitrogen Narcosis is most noticeable, and like too much alcohol, distorts the senses and affects judgment underwater.
My heart was definitely pounding now; as we prepared to drop, Barb patted me comfortingly on the shoulder and whispered that I’d do fine……and, besides, she’d be with me.
I took a big breath to calm myself, put the regulator in my mouth and let the air out of my buoyancy compensator, feeling myself drop slowly down into the black water below.
Another tricky part about diving this part of Scripps Canyon: the Green Buoy we were dropping down was attached at the bottom to a metal bar stretching across the narrowest part of the canyon wall: a distance across of no more than 5 feet in places, which led Westward to the ‘open ocean’ section of Scripps Canyon, where we would proceed North.
It was like dropping down a well in the black of night, with the narrow canyon walls within arms-reach on either side for about 90 ft., until the bottom was reached.
Not for the claustrophobic…..
Finally, after a long drop between the narrow walls, we reached a temporary ‘bottom’ of sorts at around 90 ft., where, as you head West, it drops away down into the abyss, many hundreds of feet below. Here, in effect, there was no bottom.
Dropping over the edge, into the black of night, everyone knew to begin adding air into their BCs, in order to slow our descent and ‘plateau out’ at 130 ft. Dropping any deeper would magnify the effects of narcosis.
From here, we began following the canyon wall on our right, Northward, until we reached the ‘jumping off’ point.
During the day, Scripps Canyon is normally a beautiful ‘wall dive,’ covered in brightly colored Yellow, Orange and Red Sponges as well as scarlet-colored Gorgonians and various vertical and horizontal crevices, forming miniature caves for Moray Eels and other denizens of the deep.
Schools of Blacksmith fish, Rockfish and long, silver ‘trains’ of Silversides, like Barracuda or Smelt, flash by, adding to the mystery and beauty of the canyon here.
But, this night, I was too apprehensive to appreciate the beauty of local marine life. I was too preoccupied with how I was going to get us across the Black Abyss and back in water 600 ft. deep.
We were heading to a bulge in the canyon wall called ‘Fishhead,’ which was supposedly the closest point to the other side. The rest of the group had split off from us early on in the dive, leaving just me, the instructor and Barb, gliding Northward, along the canyon wall.
We passed a couple sharp ‘overhangs,’ where the edges of canyon form sandstone ‘terraces’’ and provide shelter to more Gorgonians, sea fans and sea stars and you have to be careful not to bump your head on them.
Suddenly, I recognized the bend up ahead: we had arrived at Fishhead (see map above).
It was now, or never.
My instructor casually gestured across the abyss and motioned for me to take the lead across the Gap, as if this were something you do every day of your life.
I looked in the direction he was pointing and could see only utter blackness. The Abyss.
Getting lost here and heading South by mistake would mean going deeper and deeper into the canyon without ever finding the other side. More depth meant more narcosis and more confusion — as well as mandatory decompression stops on the way back up — which we had not come equipped for.
I had to remember: trust your instruments, regardless of what your brain is telling you. This deep, at night, you could not trust your senses — or, your brain.
Stealing a glance over at Barbara, who moved out of the way to let me lead [she had already done this once before ] and inhaling a huge gulp of air, I launched myself over into the black abyss.
There were two factors I had to control at all times: direction and depth.
Oh, yeah: and my pounding heart!
I aimed my compass, which was attached to my Submersible Pressure Gauge, which told me how much air I had remaining, straight out in front of me, as I had been trained.
We wanted a slightly NW heading, due to the topography of the canyon: I was aiming for the narrowest part of the ‘gap’ here, which if you do it right, is only about 50 ft.
If you do it right.
Here at 130 ft., you feel as if your head is wrapped in cotton wool and everything seems to happen in slow motion, due to the effect of Nitrogen Narcosis.
I aimed my compass and began swimming NW, breathing slow and easy, hoping that Barb and my instructor were directly behind me.
Breathe, kick………breathe, kick……..I tried to establish a rhythm to calm myself as we glided over gap.
Breathe, kick………breathe, kick…….
I strained mightily to keep my compass directly in front of me, as I had been trained, but my hand kept drifting downwards, no matter how much I tried to keep it level.
Allowing a compass to go either up or down, below a level plane, causes it give an inaccurate directional reading.
No matter how much I struggled to keep it level, it kept dropping down…….and, unbeknownst to me, leading us Southward……..away from the opposite wall……into the open ocean.
I noticed we were also dropping in depth here: 130…..135……140……below the depth that recreational divers are supposed to go. The cotton wool around my head was growing thicker and my breathing more labored.
But, I kept up the struggle to keep my compass level and added some air into my BC to slow our descent, but it seemed that each time I focused my attention on one thing, the other would get away from me.
As soon as got our depth under control, my compass heading would drift Southward.
As soon as I got the compass heading under control, we would begin dropping again……and, all the effort was causing hyperventilation, something you never want at this depth, because it causes you to burn through your air at much faster rate.
Fear was beginning to get the upper hand…….I looked behind me apprehensively to see if Barb and my instructor were still behind me — they were.
Finally, I managed to get the compass heading under control and aim us in the right direction — I looked over and saw our instructor gesturing to the North West and I aimed my compass there and, blessedly……..there, up ahead, I saw the outline of the opposite wall of Scripps Canyon — whew!
Boy, was I relieved!
I had gotten caught in the deadly grip of narcosis/spacial disorientation , fear and hyperventilation — combination that can be lethal at this depth.
I slowly turned our little group towards the wall and reached out and touched in relief as we glided up to it. I felt like kissing it relief!
But: we were still only 50% of the way through the dive: I still had to get us back to land….Arrggh!
I looked down at my air gauge and discovered that I had burned through more than 60% of my air: I had less than 1200 psi left — it was going to be close.
After we glided a few hundred feet North along the opposite wall, I knew we would be at the narrowest part of the gap and aimed my compass North/NE, in the direction of the beach and home.
Our trip back was pretty much a straight shot across of only a couple minutes and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the welcoming sight of the East side of the canyon wall loom up ahead.
From here, it was simply a matter of leading us up, over the top of canyon rim, to the sandy stretch above and into the beach.
Glancing down at my dive computer I noticed that we had come within 3 minutes of having to do a decompression stop — something I never would have had enough air for.
Coming back into the beach, we had to fight our way through 6 ft. breakers, crashing onto the sand in the dark, but we finally found ourselves stumbling along the sand, almost directly below the parking lot were we had entered.
I had made it!
True, the instructor had had to nudge me in the right direction and I had almost gotten caught up in the grip of fear and disorientation, but I had come through to the other side of it and survived.
Actually, as we stumbled through the surf onto the sand, I thought I had flunked the test and would have to do it again, but I guess my instructor was in a generous mood that night — or, maybe he just didn’t want to repeat the experience! — and, back at the parking lot, he handed me 3 Certification Cards: Night, Deep and Underwater Navigation.
I noticed they had been pre-signed: he must have thought I would come through OK.
Sometimes, in life, the only way around fear is through it.
