Diving the Weedline.
If you only dive on larger charter boats and don’t have access to a personal boat for diving, chances are you’ve never stopped at a weedline.
Yesterday after diving the Oriskany, we came across a weedline—a line of weeds and debris that drifts with the mild current. Weedlines, though found in the middle of the oceans, seas, and gulfs are teeming with their own ecosystems. The life is abundant beneath, within and on top of the drifting mass. We were four grown men on a boat in a flat sea, and we all stood watch, pointing out everything we saw in the line like little kids at the zoo.
Watching as the boat idled alongside the line, I was taken back to my childhood summers when I would walk along the creek in Daniel’s Run, looking for signs of life along the shore and under the water. Crayfish, water spiders, and a few small frogs was all we ever saw, but with each one we saw, we felt more and more fortunate. We’d pry up the big rocks just to see the crayfish, hoping to be surprised by a snake or a newt. Summer time was always an adventure searching along the creek, feeling like explorers in a new world, lost in time.
Investigating a weedline is one of those simple pleasures to experience during a summer when time doesn’t seem to matter. Like poking around the banks of the creek, we poked around the edges of the weedline. Through the water we could see the barracuda 25 feet down, lurking. So we stopped the boat and slipped over the gunwales with just our mask, fins, and snorkels. We stayed on the surface or just below the seaweed and peered as far as we could see in all directions. Below us were the barracudas, approaching slowly from the bottom, then turning off when they were 10 feet away. Just beneath the line were silver dollar sized File Fish, several large Triple Tails and thousands of bait fish. We saw quarter sized crabs swimming from one rest stop to another, and a few plate-sized Hawksbill turtles resting on the surface. Further down, we came across a 40 pound Cobia, followed by a bullshark who swam up from the bottom just to check us out.
It’s easy to lose track of time in a weedline. What had started out to be a quick 3 tank dive—out 7 back by 1pm—turned into a day long summertime adventure for a bunch of kids at heart. By the time we returned to the dock, the sun was going down, the memory in the camera was out of space, and the water and sandwiches had long run out. Though we returned, sunburned, thirsty and hungry, it was worth every bit of pain to check out what lay amongst the weeds.
If you find yourself on a boat on calm seas and quiet winds, keep an eye out for the weedline. It’s a wonderful experience most divers never stop to enjoy. So if you see one, call out. But don’t be surprised if I'm in the water before you.
Yesterday after diving the Oriskany, we came across a weedline—a line of weeds and debris that drifts with the mild current. Weedlines, though found in the middle of the oceans, seas, and gulfs are teeming with their own ecosystems. The life is abundant beneath, within and on top of the drifting mass. We were four grown men on a boat in a flat sea, and we all stood watch, pointing out everything we saw in the line like little kids at the zoo.
Watching as the boat idled alongside the line, I was taken back to my childhood summers when I would walk along the creek in Daniel’s Run, looking for signs of life along the shore and under the water. Crayfish, water spiders, and a few small frogs was all we ever saw, but with each one we saw, we felt more and more fortunate. We’d pry up the big rocks just to see the crayfish, hoping to be surprised by a snake or a newt. Summer time was always an adventure searching along the creek, feeling like explorers in a new world, lost in time.
Investigating a weedline is one of those simple pleasures to experience during a summer when time doesn’t seem to matter. Like poking around the banks of the creek, we poked around the edges of the weedline. Through the water we could see the barracuda 25 feet down, lurking. So we stopped the boat and slipped over the gunwales with just our mask, fins, and snorkels. We stayed on the surface or just below the seaweed and peered as far as we could see in all directions. Below us were the barracudas, approaching slowly from the bottom, then turning off when they were 10 feet away. Just beneath the line were silver dollar sized File Fish, several large Triple Tails and thousands of bait fish. We saw quarter sized crabs swimming from one rest stop to another, and a few plate-sized Hawksbill turtles resting on the surface. Further down, we came across a 40 pound Cobia, followed by a bullshark who swam up from the bottom just to check us out.
It’s easy to lose track of time in a weedline. What had started out to be a quick 3 tank dive—out 7 back by 1pm—turned into a day long summertime adventure for a bunch of kids at heart. By the time we returned to the dock, the sun was going down, the memory in the camera was out of space, and the water and sandwiches had long run out. Though we returned, sunburned, thirsty and hungry, it was worth every bit of pain to check out what lay amongst the weeds.
If you find yourself on a boat on calm seas and quiet winds, keep an eye out for the weedline. It’s a wonderful experience most divers never stop to enjoy. So if you see one, call out. But don’t be surprised if I'm in the water before you.
posted by The Divemaster at 10:41 PM
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Love the blogs about dive stuff!
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