Sunday, October 3, 2010

The Container Wall

It was a cloudy day. We had planned it for months. The container wall.

We set off from the dock for the unknown, passing the dredging outflow like a puking industrial sea snake. Nearly out of the narrow passage next to the runway, we sputter out of gas due to a disconnected fuel line. The fuel filter had just enough gas to drag us out into danger. We drifted into the forbidden zone next to the runway, eventually touching the concrete barrier with the "$5000 minimum compulsory fine" sign. Frantic paddling got us off the wall but only in time to be filmed by a cadre of bored security blokes. Some of them seemed to be smiling. "At least the cops aren't here..." -- "um, those are the federal police." It didn't help that we all had black wetsuits on.

We got a tow back to the dock after tying ourselves to a hazard marker, fixed the boat and headed back out. We were persistent boat people, fleeing persecution on dry land.

We splash in. I instantly realize what I've jumped into as shark soup. Can't see my fin tips. Can't see the bottom. "I want back in the boat. Now." --- "Let's just go down to the bottom and see..." some nagging and we were down.

This was a seriously creepy dive. Really dark and murky, with heaps of caves and not much interesting life. We did find a large Sydney Seahorse on a rope.

One sea slug this dive.

Then we went trawling for science.

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