Into Her Chambers

So much diving this weekend!!!! First, with a group of people I met from other dive shops we went out to Cleo street in Laguna Beach. We found the Foss!!!!! It was magnificent and much more intact than I had imagined. The floorboards had eroded which allowed us to peer into the dark depths of her abdomen. It's a wonderful feeling to be interacting with a ship that went down over 50 years ago. That dive was altogether wonderfully productive. We found a jellyfish and an angel shark who just couldn't be provoked. I kept pulling on his tail fin but he wouldn't budge.

Then last night I went night diving with my friend Brewster. We went in at 4:45 and, in the dim dusk light, visited the arch at Shaw's cove. He had never seen it, and I had never been there at night. As it got darker, our lights illuminated the many cracks and chambers. Then we tried to follow the reef down, but ended up getting lost in the canyons. When we turned around, I realised that we were getting deeper as we were "returning" to shore. I signaled for us to go up, and when we reached the surface, shore was a good 1/3 of a mile away. Since it had become dark, we couldn't tell which cove we had come out of. Stupid me, I had planned to follow the reef out and back, completely underwater, and not get lost and come up. Maybe I should hold off on the Dive Master course? It turns out that the cove we swam into was indeed the cove from which we came. I need to hang around some experienced night divers so that they can show me the tricks of the trade. Strangely, that was my 60th dive, the one that allows me to finish the DM program.

"Happiness is only real when shared"

Being from NorCal, I love the rain....but that means no surfing or diving for a couple of days. I'm a little bummed because my missions trip to Mexico was canceled because the roads are swamped in TJ. However, I'll be in Ensenada in January, so not to worry.

It's kinda funny, and sad, but I've had several customers come into the dive shop this week who are recently divorced. They all say that they are getting back into scuba diving or starting it because they now have all of this free times on their hands and want to pursue what they are really passionate about. It was sad, I had a conversation with a young man, probably in his late twenties, who had only been married 6 years and had just got divorced. Apparently, she was spending behind his back and he is the one now paying off the dept that she accumulated. He said that he longed to take off and travel the world, but that finances were weighing him down. He's a teacher who gets the whole summer off, so he has a dream to put everything into storage and trample the far edges of the earth for a few months during the summer. My conversation with him made me realise that A) One should follow their heart more, and their mind less. And B) how lucky I am to be so untied down. I've had so many opportunities in my singleness:

-I've had time to pursue surfing and diving.
-Had time to be involved with two churches
-Might finish my BA in only 3.5 years.
-I will graduate next fall with my world untied down...I can live anywhere!!!
-I had the opportunity to work at an orphanage in Mexico and build a college in Alaska
-no boys=better GPA
-I can pound away 30 hour work weeks with 15-17 units
-Run off to Mexico with my mother in January
-Research James Joyce in Ireland this summer
-Raft the Smokies
-Run off into the woods with my good friend Dinah and just talk about life
-Have time to Volunteer with a non profit: Giving Children Hope

Even though it's intimidating, I'm turning 21 in 4 days and have the world at my fingertips. In less than a year I can pursue anything I want to. I've been reading the blogs of long term vagabonds lately, ones who type their blogs from Internet cafes on small islands in Malaysia or libraries in Brazil, or Starbucks in the south of France. I want to take off on a grand adventure like that, but it sounds so lonely to travel solo. I don't want to just go on a grand adventure, I want to be a part of one. As Chris Maccandless wrote right before he died 20 miles out in the Alaskan Wilderness, 107 days away from being with any other human being: "Happiness is only real when shared." I believe in all of that truth. We have a desire as human beings to hare our lives with each other. More than anything, we want response; we need to know that we are not the only ones feel as we do (Which is probably why this whole Internet blogging thing has caught on). I see my singleness as preparation to join in that adventure. When I first joined the small group that I'm in, I had the feeling that,"Oh no, I'm the only college student again." I joined Rock Harbor to have fellowship with other people my age. It has turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The leader Seth, of whom we share a fond view on literature and classic movies, I learned is related to half of the people in the room. There are two newly married couples, one engaged couple, Seth's parents, his sister, his sister's husband, his aunt, and two cousins, and few others. It has been wonderful to see an entire family who really sticks together and loves Christ, and to see so many young couples relaying on Him to guide their relationships. I am now convinced that there are decent men in LA. Right now is just a time of watching other's examples.

Shadows Linger in the Distance

I went out in search of a mysterious yacht that went down off of Laguna Beach. It's a mythic legend among local divers, whose epic stories you hear around the compressor station or dive bar. Since it went down November 17, 1958, I knew that I wouldn't find a seaworthy ship. I researched its location, battled 5' waves, swam about 1/2 a mile out into the Pacific, and dropped down in only 30 ft of water. All I had was a compass reading and an approximate depth. Supposedly it was to be straight out from this Brown House near the shoreline and sitting in 45-60ft of water. I thought no problem, I'll drop down at thirty, get a compass reading and kick straight out until I bump my head on her hull. Well, the distance from 45-60ft was about a quarter mile. The visibility was usually about ten to fifteen feet, but I went through a swarm of microscopic organisms and it dropped to as low as three feet. It started to get darker and darker the deeper I went, but at least I had my big LED light with me. Shadows began appearing just outside the beam of my light. With great anticipation I'd quickly swim up to the towering structure to find that it was just a reef and some rocks. Several times I was convinced that I was merely feet away from the legendary ship, only to disappoint myself horribly. It was so eerie, being down in the dark depths of the Pacific with just a light and my imagination ensnaring me in it's cruel game of shadows. Coming back in, the waves were huge! Cleo street humbles even the most advanced water sportsman. I have heard of instructors getting their butts kicked out there, which makes the dive seems evermore an accomplishment. After scrambling through the waves, I went to fill my tank at Laguna Sea Sports (yes, I know..I work for Sport Chalet, but LSS is a heck of a lot closer) and spoke with the infamous Gordy about the wreck. He said that it is sinking and that not much is left. Oh well, I shall try again another time. My experience reminds me of a poem by Adrienne Rich. Here's a piece of Diving into the Wreck: the thing I came for: the wreck and not the story of the wreck, the thing itself and not the myth, the downed face always staring towards the sun, the evidence of damage worn by salt and away into this threadbare beauty, the ribs of the disaster curving near their assertion among the tentative haunters.

"I am haunted by waters." -A River Runs Through It