Horseshoe and the Sea Hag

Horseshoe and the Sea Hag

This is a partial view of the area while entering the harbor

      One day I got word from Dan Brainard that it was going off in San Pedro. It seemed unlikely that Dan would want to do me any favors. A few years before I was involved with a little scrape with him in Ft Bragg. His “girlfriend' Nora, an attractive local with 4 children, but still young and adventurous I recruited her to drive one of my trucks from Pt. Arena to Ft Bragg. It was my 65 step side International pick-up. I was headquartered in Ft Bragg, so I drove her down and then followed her in my 1960 dually International pick-up. She asked Dan to babysit and we took just a little longer than he expected. Well Dan was fairly angry because he suspected that Nora and I had more of a relationship than just employer- employee, anyway when we returned he confronted me in the bar and I slipped out to my truck avoiding his uncomfortable questions and as I began to take off in my truck he appeared with Nora's brother., they did not appear to be just wanting to exchange pleasantries so I revved the motor and headed in there direction and I swerved away from at the last moment. He was jealous and I figured he would get over it. It was not like I was going to try and take Nora away from him.

           At any rate, after I saw him again he was not too upset. We talked about the incident and shook hands. I was still a bit surprised he would offer such valuable information. I was more than a little skeptical. When he went on “Just a few miles out of the jaws of the breakwater in San Pedro he said..'just jump on anything that floats' I was incredulous....how could that be? , so close to the harbor. After nearly 20 years of diving, I had never heard of sea urchins out in front of the breakwater. I knew the coast from Palo's Verde was worked some and the coast north. I made it there and witnessed a dozen or so boats working out deep and the urchins were fat with yellow roe. This diving area was dangerous, especially on the weekends. The Catalina Express vessels speeding 20 plus knots over around and through the little fleet, were in danger of running over someones hose. There were more than a few of these “accidents” that occurred. They had no idea what a Bravo signal flag meant, and even the red flag with the white diagonal  bar did not slow them down. It is a wonder more divers did not get killed with all the boat traffic that traveled over the fishing grounds named “horseshoe” after the shape of the combined reefs that made up the area.

        Fish Harbor was not my favorite place,though over the years I had worked out of the harbor when San Clemente Island was ripe for the picking. The drive is about 2 hours from Oxnard ...Hi way 1 south through Malibu then jump on the 10 going east of Santa Monica, then 405 south. Passing the San Pedro exits, and over the Vincent Thomas Bridge and you arrive Terminal Island. Terminal Island is not exactly a vacation destination. From the abandon Tuna canneries and bleak run down office buildings to the Federal prison there is a feeling of foreboding. Not a lot of pedestrian traffic, you pretty much had to have a vehicle, because there were no grocery stores and 1 restaurant that doubled as a meeting place for the fishermen and truck drivers that would line up and load up from the rail cars. There were also the drug dealers and other unsavory souls. Parasites that preyed on those same fishermen and truck drivers. The single Bar now since shut down Joe Biffs was a lively affair with pool tables, that attracted a few sailors as well.They served food, but I heard the story of the fly paper above the grill, so my appetite was not so good when I was there.  To top it off If you were not already attracted to the area the stench of the Pet food cannery, on the days the wind was blowing in the right direction just gave me the inspiration to name TI the toilet seat of the West Coast.

      There also was a Coast Guard Station that was the home port of the buoy tender Walnut. I was familiar with the station, since while aboard the USCGC Glacier the lone Icebreaker home ported at Naval Station Long Beach, now since shut down. We had the privilege of using the massive sand blaster that Terminal Island Station had available. Part of a 4 man crew Ist Class TC convinced us this would be fun duty, hauling these massive lockers off the ship and gearing up to sandblast them to clean metal then painting them for reinstalling them on the Glacier. Not too much fun.

        My dislike of Fish harbor was not going to deter me from making some money. My feast and famine existence had been in the famine stage for a little to long so off I went went trolling for a boat.

          I found an old Korean diver. There were a few of them, no nonsense , broken English speaking middle aged, but willing to let me stay on his boat, Sea Hag. It was an old 30 ft something old wooden fishing boat, but sea worthy enough to go 2 miles out. So off we went, and I was amazed at about 70 ft patches of good size urchins eating the bottom growth. We got paid cash as the Korean was happy to to that for us. I lost my bag one day trying to basket too far away. I had given up on the bag when the old Korean said he was a navy diver for the Korean navy and he could find it, and he sure did after several attempts. I got to hand it to that old Korean diver he was tough and persistent, The fleet had a couple of months of work out there , and even some boats from Channel Islands boats started to show up. I am not sure if that area had ever been worked, and I can see why, while on deck I had to wave of several boats racing thru the area.

        I was reunited with the Fuji 3 the last trips I made out to horseshoe. I was also reunited with an old friend. Mike Fair and I had a history but I had not seen much of him in recent years. He was running the boat for Mick who became a Merchant Marine, as I did later on, partly due to his example. He was happy to put me on , as I was familiar with the boat and a little desperate.  He bumped another diver, to my benefit, which happen to me before, and I was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I had the scare of my life when I was live boating Mike and a sport boat ran over his hose. I was watching and waiting for him to pop up. It seemed like an eternity as I was practicing what I was going to say to the Coast Guard and all our dive comrades about how Mike drown. Then all the sudden he popped up much to my relief when I motored up to him he said “yay I am still alive”. He took it stride which I would not have.  I would have been been madder than hell at the sport boat. We motored over to the boat and told them what they had caused. Of course they were sorry they always are. Mike was so non-nonchalant about it , but this was the second life-and death episode we had been involved, the first being the sinking of the Fat city 15 years before. Horseshoe was a big shot in the arm for me. However I was about to get a 3 year break from diving and not by choice, but that break ended up being good for my state of mind. Stay tuned.