SCUBA

Last weekend, Mike and I took our PADI Open Water SCUBA Certification class. It consisted of a 50 question multiple choice test, a 2 hour pool period and 4 ocean dives. It was just Mike, a girl about our age, the instructor and myself, which made for an easy course. As we were all comfortable underwater, we were able to spend more time exploring the reefs and the wreck. On Saturday, the two dives that we did were both to a reef at a depth of about 40 feet. We saw lots of cool tropical fish and all of the coral associated with reefs. On Sunday, we dove to depths of ~80feet at the deepest and explored a 150' wreck called "Ancient Mariner" as well as a another deep reef. It is quite an incredible feeling to sit on the sandy bottom and look up and not be able to see the surface. Though we were not supposed to be deeper than 60' nor to be swimming around inside the wreck, our instructor felt that we were competent enough and let us do both. At the wreck, we saw a few lobster, a wide variety of fish and an enormous manta ray. It was about 6 feet in diameter and casually swimming around the wreck. The 4 dives were anywhere between 25 and 45 minutes depending on our depth because one uses compressed air faster when one is deeper because the air is more compressed.

Speaking of which, an interesting thing happened when we were preforming out last decompression stop of the weekend. A decompression stop is pausing for a few minutes while ascending to allow some of the dissolved nitrogen escape from the blood stream. If this is not done, a painful condition called decompression sickness "the bends" could result. Throughout the weekend, the instructor had told us to let him know whenever our pressure gauges read less than 500 psi. Once mine dropped below, I showed it to him and he gave me the universal "OK" signal. We kept exploring the reef. At this point, I was not concerned because he was not concerned, and I figured that as it was a class, they would provide a much larger window than necessary in order to get to the surface. In another minute or so we begin ascending. I'm checking my gauge which is reading about 300 psi. Because we are coming from around 70 feet, we are slowly ascending to prevent the bends. I am occasionally glancing at my gauge, which is steadily declining over the next 5 minutes. We get to about 20 feet below the surface and the instructor indicates that we will begin our 3 minute decompression stop. At this point, I am looking at my gauge, which says about 50psi, and wondering if I have 3 minutes of air. I wasn't too worried because I felt like in an emergency, I could swim to the surface. Also, I felt like the gauge could work like a gas tank gauge in that one can get by for quite a while while on empty. Anyone that knows me well knows that this is a silly thing for me of all people to think as I have tested that particular gauge many times with unlucky results. Just after we begin the stop, I notice it becomes hard to breathe. Each breath becomes more and more difficult to draw until finally, there is definitely no more air in my tank. Uh oh. Luckily, we were all close to one another, so I reached over for the secondary air source on my instructor's tank and was able to breathe again. Though it was never that scary, it is a bit unnerving to run out of air. It was a good learning experience and will be the last time that I let such a thing happen.

South florida thanksgiving

Unfortunately, I will not be able to make it home for thanksgiving because we have a dinner cruise planned. I suppose that I am thankful that I still have a job. i will miss all of you and hopefully see you all soon.

Buckethead, Hashing and Jerk

I forgot to mention that I had the privilege of seeing Buckethead a week or so ago at a tiny venue here in Lauderdale. The opening act was a guy called That One Guy. We played this crazy harp thing that he made out of stainless steel piping, one bass string and some effects buttons. He could make a bunch of music for just being one guy. Later, he came out and played with Buckethead. It was good.

Last night, I went hashing for the first time. Basically, its a loose club of people who like to drink beer and run around. Its fairly weird but really fun. This is all the information that I had before I showed up last night. I had looked it up on the internet and found a hotline to call for info about upcoming hashes. There are usually about 5 or so each week anywhere between Palm Beach and Miami. So I called the number and found out about Hash. I learned that it costs $2 to pay for cheap beer and that we were supposed to meet up at a Library parking lot at 6:30pm in Hollywood. So I got my running shoes and showed up. When I got there there were already a few people standing around drinking beer, waiting as more people showed up. From what I could tell, there was not any sort of commonality among the hashers other than the fact that they enjoyed running and drinking beer.

At this point, people welcomed me as "Virgin Louis" and explained how things work. Basically, at each hashing event, there is one organizer called the "hare." This position rotates every week. The hare is responsible for bringing coolers, ice and some beer. We each gave the hare $2 bucks this time, though normally these things are BYOB + 1$ for the ice and beer for the beer stop. The hares are also responsible for setting the course. At around 7pm, they took off, reminding us to look for baking flour and banana peels to stay on the path. We followed 10 mins after. The hares left different kinds of markings that indicate different things. A single blob of flour is called a "plop" and generally signifies that you are on the right track. If you have found 3 in a row, then you are definitely on the right track. An "X" in the road signifies that the path could have turned in any direction. At this point, people split up and search for about 100 yards in search of more "plops" This makes it a bit more challenging, and because the guys in front are doubling back at the Xs, it also serves to keep the group together. A few of the guys ran with whistles and would blow it to help others find the trail. One guy ran with a conch shell in a side holster and another had a bugle. Some of the costumes were funny as well. Because this particular hash was a Banana theme, most wore yellow, one guy had a banana costume, a girl had a cub scout uniform "pub scout" and one guy wore only a banana hammock. The trail took us through many different side streets, across a bridge, through a hotel lobby and a beach bar. So the scene is 20 or so adults in strange outfits running absently through the streets and establishments of Fort Lauderdale sounding whistles and shells. Also at this point, i had one of those 3rd person views of my own life. Not in a negative way, but "How did I get here?" Eventually, we saw "BN" written in flour on the road, which means "beer near." We rounded a corner to find a a couple of the faster ones already at the beer check, which was a parking lot near the inter coastal. A 15-20 beer break ensued. At this point, Banana Hammock jumped in the water.
The whole group caught up and a few minutes later, the hares left again to make the trail, which led us back to the original parking lot for the ceremonial part. it involved singing, chanting, dancing and the eventual naming of Chiquita Mussolini. You will have to go to figure out what goes on. That ended at 9:30 or so and those who chose went to the "on after" at a bar for some late dinner.This is from the "On After." Everyone in the photo was along on the hash with the exception of the woman in the front. She is a nice stranger who joined the party.

All in all, I am very surprised that this exists and I had not previously known of it. It was very fun and I will definitely be back. Some of the hashes can get really intense and take the better part of a day to complete.

In other news, i rode my bike 12 miles to a Jamaican jerk chicken festival. It was really hot and I popped my tire, but the music and the chicken were both good. coconut water, on the other hand, is not delicious.