adventure in Pt Arena

Adventure in Pt Arena

Pt Arena.

        When I pulled into Pt. Arena an 8 ft set of nearly perfect waves were just rolling in one right after the other. A surfer who I found out later was none other than Michael Fair once close friend of mine, caught a nice one on the south side of the pier and rode it all the way in, classic, there were 25 or 30 boats on moorings outside the pier and a crowd of people on the shore . Surfers and divers. The divers not working because of the huge swell. Some people think underwater would not be affected, but trust me it is. Though if you can find the right kind of bottom, and the urchins in the right place you could work it, but you will be thrown around some, hopefully in the right places.

       I was in my 65 International pick-up with my Alaskan camper in the bed, stocked with food, propane, gasoline and all my dive gear. I got word that it was going off here, so I needed to find a boat.

       Now Pt Arena was a one horse town along the north coast of California, Nothing much going on except logging and fishing, long since past the heyday of those industries. Marijuana growing was big, but not legal. The local young people wanted to get out of town as soon as possible, except now the place was inundated with young southern California divers with lots of money to spend, and they did. The urchin fishery gave that town a big shot in the arm economically.  That little town sure needed it.

       In a day or two the swell came down and the fleet was underway. That night there were 5 tractor trailer refrigerated lined up on the pier, awaiting to load the urchins. As many as 5 to 10 boats waiting, impatient divers and tempers, bags swinging boats clanging ,divers jumping to the ladders and spectators. There were even groupies ...well sort of that's what some of us called them. The local girls hanging out giddy with excitement at all the activity suddenly going on in there boring little town

       I was trying to hustle a boat, I found one right away. The vessel looked OK from a distance out on the mooring, but as I realized this old wooden sinker was not what I had in mind. I picked 1 bag and I was not about to contribute any more weight to this operation. I ended up on the Reefer Star a boat I was familiar with from Channel Islands, and I knew the skipper well, Mike Moore was a good skipper and I made a few trips..but I guess he overbooked and I was kinda bumped off. Well Mike apologized to me, and that was kool.

So I targeted Vince Pulio on the Sea Breeze. Vince said sure, he had Franco but he could work all of us. Well the following day Vince reluctantly told me that Franco was so upset about me joining the crew, that he threatened to quit. He explained that Franco had been with him a long time, blah blah blah. I was livid with anger at Franco and when I saw him, I confronted him..calling every name I could think of and I flicked my cigarette at him. He did not like me anyway, and being on the boat was threatening his position. He did not take the bait and walked away, but I insulted, and disrespected him in front of everybody. I know he was embarrassed.

       Vince Pulio was a short tempered Sicilian, who had a reputation of treating his crew like Capt. Bligh. However he was very successful and a hard worker. He also had a nice east coast style boat, and Franco was messing with my livelihood and I was not going to take that lightly. I guess there was a meeting of the minds, because the next day Mike Moore approaches me and suggested that Franco and I trade boats. Even though I was bumped 1 day off the Reefer Star I was still in the rotation, so to speak. So Franco went to the Reefer Star and I was on the Sea Breeze. Vince said he was so embarrassed and upset he had to tell me no after he already said yes. He made Francos life a living hell for giving him the ultimatum. He also said he was so relieved to get rid of Franco, putting up with his tardiness and other things.

I did well with Vince, he was not too bad to work for, the temper was there but not too bad and I made a lot of money. He also proved he could defend his boat. The tender on the Reefer Star was Jimmy Grant. I knew Jimmy had some dealings with him, but I was not his favorite person after he tended me. He was a good tender, but a little pushy and a aggressive and I was not in the mood for that. Any way the bad blood between me and Franco metastasized when those two started talking and it came to a head one day. I was driving my Truck threw town and Jimmy was behind me tailgating in his 1950 something jalopy. I braked suddenly to get him off my ass and he rear ended me. His radiator was gone , but my truck was fine he hit my huge beefy bumper..he was so mad he took a swing at me and I just got in my truck and bailed.

        Well the next day he was insisting I pay for the damage and I just laughed. “You rear ended me, so its your fault for being to close.” I avoided him because he was a hot head and he was telling everyone that would listen he was going to collect one way or the other. Then out in the moorings one day he sees me on the Seabreeze and jumps on the dinghy and motors up to the boat, yelling like he is going to attack me. He puts one foot one the boat and lets go of the line to the dinghy, sets it adrift. All of a sudden, over my shoulder Vince flies and chest tackles Jimmy who was much larger. Jimmy falls back SLAM on the deck both feet in the air. He was done, he had to wait for someone off the Reefer Star to retrieve the Dinghy, as he sheepishly withdrew. Mike Moore apologized to me again for letting that happen.

       So began the Saga of point Arena. I camped out by the pier for awhile until the cops started hassling us so I found the Rollerville campground, where a bunch of divers had settled in. Known for its night raccoons and grouchy owner. It was a hook-up and a shower so it sufficed while I continued my musical boat escapade. Turns out Vince was getting ready to sell the SeaBreeze so he had made plans to accommodate the prospective buyer with a spot on the boat. It was true I had heard second hand but I will have to give Vince credit , he found me a boat before he let me go.

       The Fuji III was owned by Mick McHenry. I was well acquainted with Mick and the Fuji III, although not this version. The boat was solid aluminum and Mick had inherited it from his father who was an early pioneer. I had worked on the boat when it was 3 feet shorter and had a mid-engine Chrysler marine gas engine that was constantly breaking down.

       There was a huge fish hold and a pipe frame sat on top to accommodate the cargo net. The pilot house was open, except for the canvas cover that kept out the worst of the weather. Tough and sea worthy, the boat sat on blocks for years after Mick quit the business for a few years to pursue more steady consistent employment.

When the urchin business started to become more lucrative, Mick had to resort to hardball tactics to retake ownership of the Fuji III. Jumping a fence and some harsh language were involved, but he retained ownership, then lengthened the boat 3 feet and installed a V-drive, with a Cummins diesel package that Toni Athens installed. Much improved the boat and when I headed up to Fort Bragg where the Fuji III was docked, I felt satisfied that I was taken care of with continued employment.

        Mick was a curly blond headed, blue eyed southern Californian, with enough tough Irishman to complete the package. He could charm the pants off many girls as his daughters grew up to have movie star good looks, to prove that. He married a local fort Bragg girl who came from one of the logging clans in the area and she used to tend for us once in a while, which was in keeping with his family oriented operation. I worked on his boat longer than most, but he was a sporadic worker. I wasn't getting rich but I had a steady boat.

       Mick kept his boat on the mooring in Pt. Arena for a while that summer, but he was nervous about it and we ended up working out of Ft. Bragg at the end of the season. That fall he planned to take the boat back down south, so off we went. He said I could park my truck in his back yard but when I flew back to retrieve it he had locked the gate so I was trapped in. So I just locked up the hubs and 4 X4 right over the top of his old fence and out the bushes till I hit the road. He was not too happy about that , but I was not too happy about getting locked in either. I helped him build a new one the next summer, so his feelings were not too hurt. 
      I went back to Pt Arena towing a 35 ft house trailer and a wife, and a pure bred Golden Retriever. Shadow was able to climb those bull pine trees, when I placed the Frisbee strategically up in the branches, sometimes getting down was a problem.  We ended up at the Manchester KOA, which was a beautiful place about 5 miles north of Pt Arena.  There was an idyllic trail through the wetlands, down to the black sand beach.  Shadow would just barrel through the tall grass and then charge into those 4 ft waves after the Frisbee.  He showed absolutely no fear of those waves and sometimes I would worry about him until I saw his head bob up with his teeth clenched around that Frisbee.
      When winter came that year, my wife Linda did not want to leave.  She had been working at the fish market and was meeting new friends.  I told her the weather would turn and the tourists would leave and the off season would be rainy boring and nothing to do.  I left the big trailer there , since we had a smaller one stored in the trailer park in Buelton.  I did not relish the thought of towing that beast of a heavy trailer back down to Southern California, and this set up was more convenient. Never did make it back to dive after that, just was not in the cards and that new July closure, rendered the northerly migration less desirable.  I think that was by design. Turn the Page.

 

PAGO PAGO (American Somoa)

PAGO PAGO

        Pago Pago was the last Port -o Call for the Glacier on the return trip from Operation Deep Freeze. I was determined to go diving in the tropical paradise and I was flush with cash having just won big playing blackjack. $400 was a lot of money to me at the time, in fact adjusting for inflation about $1500 in today's money.  (see Glacier Casino https://urchinstyle.blogspot.com/2017/08/glacier-casino-i-must-admit-i-had.html)    I booked a room in the nicest hotel on the island, after the big welcoming party the islanders staged for us. Complete with a band and dancing hula girls.

I proceeded to the small boat marina and asked some locals, loitering around some small boats if they could take me out to reef I spotted on the way in. I Showed them some money, they just laughed at me. Frustrated I decided to check out the shallow reef behind the Hotel. It was only 2 or 3 feet deep, but amazing visibility. I snorkeled out about 50 yards ant then all the sudden the reef just dropped off down to 100 plus feet, replete with the tropical fish aquarium scene I had envisioned. The Glacier was not far away so I swam and got my air tank and regulator.. I dropped down to 80 ft very quickly without realizing it was so deep till I looked at my gage. I was not disappointed with the diving experience.

           That evening I was walking towards one of the 2 bars I was aware of and I chased a huge bull frog I stumbled upon, soon realizing there were dozens of them everywhere. I came upon some tennis courts and smelled the distinct smell of marijuana. I heard some low muffled voices. Being 19 and not unfamiliar with the then illegal weed with a pocket full of money, I approached the group of local natives and offered them $10, if they could share. They laughed and reluctantly agreed. I noticed that one of the natives was a member of the welcoming band that performed for us, as the Glacier pulled in the docking facilities. I was trying to make conversation and asked if they had heard of Mau Tuiasosopho or Manu Tatupu, a couple of Samoan NFL football players I was aware. They said they had and knew the whole family. They then went on about some of history of the island and how it was once a german protectorate and the role it played in WW11. They also mentioned that they had found left over ordinance in some caves up in the hills.

         The front entrance of the bar was visible from our vantage point and all of a sudden some of my shipmates came flying out of the front, and Islanders started apearring out of the hills with clubs and I realized it was a bar room brawl between the locals and my shipmates. I was not inclined to get involved in the action, as I was at a disadvantage, as I had not that much liquid courage in me, and my former smoking companions giving me the stink eye. I nervously thanked my companions and made my way back to the hotel. I ordered a expensive meal and was looking forward to the luxurious queen size bed in the room I had booked. A strangle but not unattractive female sat down at my table and in a low voice propositioned me. I realized that the girl in front of me was really a guy and declined the offer.

         At that momenta BM2 with a Shore Patrol insignia on his arm entered the Hotel and said “Thomas we have been looking all over for you. Liberty is canceled, the locals attacked some crew members at the bar and some of them are hurt, get in the truck now!”

         That was the end of my Pago Pago experience. I heard later the fight was over a girl (of course) there were cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious. I was just fuming at the thought of paying all that money for the hotel room and I never got to stay.

Diving Sydney

       Sydney, Australia    

     The Glacier was due to arrive at Sydney harbor and I was so excited.  We sailed right passed the opera house, and I was anxious to go on liberty.
        I knew I would have only 5 days, in Sydney and I wanted to travel to The Great Barrier Reef.  From what I had read and seen on TV, diving on that famous reef would be spectacular and since I had the opportunity I just had to try.  I looked on a map and tried to make the logistics work so I could have at least 1 day of diving. 800 miles was a long way to travel with only 5 days and I just could nor swing it.  So I wandered around Sydney looking for a dive shop.  In those days we had to    use those cumbersome telephone books, and fold 
up street maps.
     I found one and I walked in and announced to the staff that I had just sailed in on that big red Icebreaker in the harbor and I was determined to go diving somewhere in Australia, if I could not fufill my dream dive on the Great Barrier Reef.  Much to my surprise one of the staff replied that they were headed out right at that moment to Thompsons bay, just up the coast from Bondi Beach. I asked if they could wait for me to take a cab back to the ship to retrieve my gear.  They insisted I did not have time and instructed me to just go ahead and pick my wet-suit and gear from there rental stock and so I did and off we went. I was very pleased with myself that my timing had been right on and I was not disappointed with the dive spot they chose that actually was adjacent to a clothing optional beach.  I was happy to finish my dive with a great view of that heavenly scene as the Aussie girls just seemed so attractive and had little inhibition, unlike American girls, and were very comfortable fully naked basking in the sun, on the flat rocks of Thompsons Bay.  It was not the Great Barrier Reef but the experience was well worth my efforts. As I came out of the water a group of my companions was gathered, having a great laugh and I wondered what was so funny.  They just pointed at me so I looked down and I had inadvertently, in my haste to pick out a suit grabbed a female top, complete with breasts.  The Aussies found that quite amusing.  I did not care they just took me on the dive of my life and the scenery after was well worth the embarrassment and ridicule I received.  They sent me on my way and did not even charge me for the rental on the gear

Escape from Santa Barbara Island

                 Rescued from Santa Barbara Island


      Santa Barbara Island is a tiny speck about halfway between Channel Islands and Santa Catalina Is.  It is generally warmer water and divers can enjoy better visibility, than the northern Channel Islands.  Those conditions however also require diving deeper as the shallower urchins tend to have less quality.  One of the main features on the lee side of the island is a sea lion population that resides in an area known as the seal slide.  The rocks have been worn smooth over time as the sea lions enter the water on the incline.  When they are absent the slide is a dominant feature, in the anchorage.  The noise is deafening when they are present, there incessant barking sounds like Old Blue, the bloodhound that ran himself to death, chasing the scent of Paul Newman after one of his escapes.Some of you older folks might remember the motion picture Cool Hand Luke who was locked up on  the chain gang in the deep south.Well magnify that sound times a hundred and thats what the sea lions sound like times a thousand. If that was not enough when the wind is right the smell is nauseating,

      When diving in the area the sea lions are curious, playful, mischievous and annoying. They are unavoidable.  I have had them pull on my hose, charge me at full speed, just to pull up at the last moment, and I could of swore I heard laughter, when I reacted.  They bite on my fins, and one stole a fish I had on the end of my spear.  At night they are all under and around the boat and there antics create trails of phosphorus illumination. The patterns of the trails are beautiful and awe inspiring. I finally quit giving them any eye contact at all, they would eventually tire of harassing me, if I did not look at them, but every once in a while it was difficult not to play with the pups who were the most excited by our presence, and just adorable. I even quit that after a mother cow charged me baring her teeth. Maybe twice my size, that event shook me up like no other, during my 25 year commercial diving career. Giant Black Sea Bass, moray eels and Garibaldi seem to be more prevalent than in the northern Channel Islands as well.
     The National Park Service has a presence there.  One year that single Park Ranger came out and boarded us for a License and compliance check.  My impression was that he was just lonely and wanted someone to talk to.  He half hardheartedly checked us for regulations compliance and I noticed he was not wearing any socks, which endeared him to me immediately.  He said he stays in an old Quonset hut for an extended period of time, and he was not trying to make it look glamorous or romantic.  I think it was the highlight of his week to come out and check us out.
      There is more bottom around the 1 mile square Island than dry land, on  the island itself.  It is also a little of a gamble diving there, because if your not finding urchins, no where else to go unless you hauled enough fuel to get to St. Nicolas Is.  Another drawback is the ride home is generally into the prevailing weather, which can make for a long miserable voyage if it picks up too much
      So I decided to make a voyage out to SB Island on my vessel Longfin. I knew of an area I could pick some good quality sea urchins and they should be ripe about that time. Johnny Goomer  RIP the diver, that I had on the boat agreed, and we had heard that one of the boats we communicated with regularly was heading out there as well. Now Johnny was a good natured soul, built very slight but his forearms had the hardened appearance that turning wrenches on seized up bolts over the years would create. He had spent 10 years in Federal Prison for agreeing to crew a vessel that was engaged in ferrying out to a cargo vessel and returning to shore with contraband.  Then the worst sin of all ...getting caught.  Johnny had started out working in the processing plant, cracking urchins at first, then moving around to other duties at the plant.  He seized on an opportunity to try diving on the Hey Jude with John Gilsinger, and he was in.

        When I was active duty Small Boat Station Channel Islands Harbor, I did a lot of sea rescues, but none like the one that occurred on the Longfin that trip.  I knew the sea urchins were in tight, up against the cliffs, on the weather side, but it was nice enough to go in tight, that day and since  it was late in the day, I was excited about getting anchored quickly so we could take advantage of the rare conditions. Now Johnny was a good enough diver when he was sober,which was not often, but a great wrench turner. He could remove and replace with the best of em, and small enough so he could climb all around my engine room. Leaving late was a mistake. Upon arrival, I urged him to throw the hook and fast, as I was trying to negotiate the Longfin in between  the wash rocks and  anchor right on top of the urchins. Instead he wanted to argue with me 'well Mike were kinda close.......and uh....."' and all that second guessing me at the wrong time. Furious, I left the wheel and threw the anchor over myself. Johnny almost fell overboard, cig in one hand and beer in the other. Me and Johnny were friends, I knew him 30 years, but I was apoplectic. I told him he was cut off from the beer and he was going to have to sleep on deck, then I kicked a bucket that barely missed him. I am screaming at him, as I jumped in and picked a couple quick bags, i wanted to get to the anchorage with some light left, because I was not very familiar with the  anchorage, at that end of the island. As we were motoring toward the anchorage a Coast Guard helicopter flew overhead. I said to Johnny "here's your chance call them up and get a ride home" I did not think he would actually Do it!!! But he did ..he got on the radio.. "hes gonna kill me" and  any other lie he could think of" Well when we anchored up, I noticed the PEACE was in the anchorage.  The Peace was an old commercial sport dive boat, that had been around a long time.  I was familiar with her as one of my first sea rescues was when the PEACE had capsized down the coast around Deer Creek, some 25 years ago. I was in a supporting role as the 41 footer crews plucked the survivors out of the water and ferried them to the station, I would assist those that needed it, getting them to a warm dry spot and providing hot coffee. So it was a little more than ironic that the roles were reversed, when the Coast Guard had the  skipper of the Peace send a dinghy over and retrieve Johnny. I was happy he was gone but, they told me to stand by while they sent out the 87 foot CG patrol Boat  Halibut. They left Marina del Ray.and they boarded me a couple hours later suited and booted...about 6 of them. They searched my boat looking for something I did not have, for 3 hours asked me a bunch of questions. I told him he disobeyed a direct order in a dangerous situation and was drunk on duty, and I never touched him, although the bucket may have grazed his leg. They finally let me go. Next morning 2 of my diver buddies on the Resurgance Pat Macallion and Dave Garland came motoring around the point. They were laughing there asses off as they heard the play by play on the marine radio, live as it happen. I mentioned I was happy they were entertained.  I  learned from that experience that I should think twice before hiring any of my friends. They took Johnny in on Marina del Ray on the Halibut, and he had to hitch a ride home.  From what I heard the Coast Guardsman were not to helpful or friendly.   I had a very peaceful day diving the next day.   Did not make a lot of money, but I was free of the insubordination, and that was well worth it.