Dive with Greg III was an overwhelming success.  No one else from
rec.scuba showed up, but that just made it easier to coordinate.

The plan, even if the San Diego rec.scubans failed to show, was to
dive the Coronado Islands, a little island cluster just south of the
Mexican border.

According to Wikipedia:  "The Coronado Islands are a group of four
islands off the northwest coast of the Mexican state of Baja
California. Battered by the wind and waves, they are largely unfertile
and uninhabited except for a small military detachment and a few
lighthouse keepers."

They also have this tidbit:  "In May 1943 the USS PC-815 commanded by
L. Ron Hubbard conducted unauthorized gunnery exercises involving the
shelling of the Coronado Islands, in the belief they were uninhabited
and belonged to the United States. Unfortunately for Hubbard, the
islands belonged to neutral Mexico and were occupied by the Mexican
Coast Guard. The Mexican government complained and Hubbard was
relieved of command."

To get there, one hops on a boat out of San Diego.  We opted for the
Lois Ann, a longtime San Diego favorite, which makes the trip weekly.
During my early diving days as a primarily cold water diver, I dove
the wrecks of San Diego's "wreck alley" and the nearby Pt. Loma kelp
beds, but I somehow never made it to the Coronados even though my LDS
used to charter a couple trips there each year.  I was determined to
rectify that.

My real reason for getting out in the cold water yesterday was to make
sure that Janna and I were prepared for our August trip to the
Galapagos suit-wise, where water temps threaten to be as low as 60
degrees and as high as 75.  The only way to handle such conditions is
through layering, so we brought many layers with us on the boat.

Boarding time was an early 6:30 a.m., so we spent the night up in La
Jolla, across the street from UCSD where we originally met.  A short
traffic-free drive in the morning (San Diego hasn't caught up to L.A.
in that regard - by 6 a.m., L.A.-area freeways are packed) and we
arrived at the bright red boat manned by a friendly crew.  After
lugging our gear aboard and setting up on our tanks, we did our
paperwork and enjoyed a little breakfast they had set out.  The boat
promised to feed us after each dive, and feed they did.  It's also one
of the only SoCal boats that pumps nitrox on board and provides tanks
free of charge for those of us whose tanks at home (2 120s, 1 100, 1
95, and various pony and rebreather bottles) are all in need of hydros
except for an old AL 80 that I only use for cleaning regs and trying
stuff out in the pool.

Unfortunately, what the Lois Ann lacks, are bunks.  Most SoCal boats
do overnight trips to the Channel Islands and have large bunk rooms..
The San Diego boats, however, primarily do 5-10 minute runs to wreck
alley, so they're not set up for sleeping.  Unfortunately, given the
bounciness of the ride down and the fact that I woke up at 3:30 a.m.
and couldn't fall back asleep, I really needed to be horizontal during
the 1:45 crossing to the islands.  I wedged myself onto a bench in the
galley and tried for a few minutes of shuteye during the rough
passage.  Finally we arrived.

All the diving normally takes place on the small north island.  We
pulled into a sheltered cove at a site called Keyhole for our first
dive of the day.  Janna decided to wear just the 7/5 full suit that
she had only tried on once.  She had a 5mm "core warmer" to go over
it, but felt that the 7/5 was more than enough neoprene and any more
would suffocate her.  For myself, I opted for the 5mm FJ that served
me fine on my last Galapagos trip (albeit at a warmer time of the
year), but I also wore a full 3mm suit under that.  We both wore hoods
and gloves.

The funny thing about San Diego waters (and the Mexican waters at
least as far south as Ensenada) is that they get hit by a really cold
current that drives the water temperatures about 5-10 degrees lower
than the Channel Islands and L.A. and Orange County coastal areas just
50-100 miles to the north.  I had prepared for 62 degrees, but was
shocked to find that 62 was just the surface temperature.  Also, after
reading some trip reports by other divers, we had prepared ourselves
for some really boring diving.  Happily, the underwater stuff was
better than we expected, almost worth braving the cold water.

Dives two and three were at a nearby site called the Lobster Shack,
named for a one-time one-man lobster fishery that operated on the
island.  There's no shack or any other evidence of habitation
remaining at the site, but there is a small resident harbor seal
family and there was family of sea lions as well.  The Coronados are
best known for sea lion diving in the winter months, so we were happy
to see a few still around in the summer.

It turned out that the temperature actually dropped down to 56 degrees
at depths deeper than 50 feet.  It was 60 at 30 feet.  We spent
roughly half of each dive at each temperature.  It's an odd-feeling to
be grateful to ascent into "warm" water of 60 degrees, but it really
does feel pleasant after experiencing 56 degrees for 20 minutes.  Our
dives were about 40 minutes each.

Even though the islands lack giant kelp, supposedly cut down by the
Mexicans, there are still some seaweeds and bull kelp in the shallows,
enough to support a decent population of the usual Californian stuff:
garibaldis, kelp bass, kelp fish, gobies, senoritas, and plentiful
scorpionfish and sculpins that we were spotting all over in odd
places.  One sea lion buzzed us at Keyhole, and another at Lobster
Shack, but we didn't have any real interaction with the cute dog-like
creatures as I had hoped.

Lobster Shack had several schools of silver fish (sardines, anchovies,
or mackerel, take your pick) in the shallows, and during the first
dive there, we found three of the highly anticipated finescale
triggerfish lurking about.  They're listed as rare in the Humann book,
but apparently there's a little group of them residing at north
Coronado.  We also found lots of sea hares (aplysia) ranging from
clusters of little fist-sized hares, to one giant that Janna spotted
(I thought it was a rock) that was bigger than our fattest cat.  I
went to pet him and it took a crap.  How cute.  Janna also found two
navanax nudibranchs, the biggest nudi in local waters, and we found
lots of spanish shawls (flabellina iodinea).  I found a tiny pink nudi
that might be of the cuthona species (cuthona divae?).

I unfortunately had opted to leave my camera behind on this trip for
several reasons.  I didn't think it was worth lugging down and on the
boat since we probably weren't going to see anything noteworthy, I'm
still having issues with the 60mm macro lens gears that I'm waiting
for L&M to rectify, I'm having strobe and arm issues that I need to
rectify, and I wasn't sure about the camera facilities on the boat.
It turns out that the boat did have a big camera rinse bucket (aka
trashcan filled with water) but it would have been a pain to try to
get the camera passed down to me since the captain was busy captaining
and the DM busy helping divers get off the boat.  However, I did
regret not having the camera available to take pics of the nudis and
the triggerfish, and garibaldis, being nosy damselfish, are always
trusty subjects.  I really need to get my issues cleared up with the
camera so that I feel better about taking it with me on local dives.

The best news is that Janna, though cold during her dives, didn't die
of hypothermia as I suspected she might.  Since the Galapagos dives
will mostly be much warmer than 56 degrees, she'll be just fine there,
especially if we buttress her full suit with a 3mm hooded vest.  I was
fine in my suit combo, which I'll wear in the central islands,
probably removing the 3mm underlayer when I dive the warmer Wolf &
Darwin.  Since the Channel Islands stay in the 60-degree range through
October or November at least, she's agreed to do some more local dives
when we return from the Galapagos as she really enjoyed the
Coronados.  If I can keep up her interest in the cold stuff long
enough to convince her to try a drysuit again, I might have a year-
round local dive buddy and be able to go out much more frequently.

On the way back home, I again suffered through the long crossing,
trying to sleep and keep my lunch down at the same time.  Finally,
when we reached the flat water of the Mission Bay harbor, I emerged
from the galley, got overwhelmed with nausea, and puked.  A lovely way
to end the trip.  Having regained my appetite after the quick purge
and in order to avoid the rush hour traffic at 5:30 p.m., we had
dinner at our old college-day hangout, Filippi's Pizza Grotto in
Pacific Beach, then made the two-hour drive back home, getting in at 9
pm, sore, sunburnt, and tired.  I slept very well.

The San Diego rec.scubans don't know what they missed.

Keep tuned for DWG IV.