Drift Diving and Film Festivals

Perhaps eating fish n' grits before scuba diving wasn't such a good idea.

Being that my next shoot is in Hollywood and I've heard tell that the best diving in Florida is off the coast of Jupiter and Palm Beach, I made diving reservations. As normal I had head out early to be in the area with plenty of time to prepare. I ate my fish n' grits out on the dock in a little wooden booth that had a canopy and sat on a sliding rocker mechanism. Once done, I got myself some canned pineapple and a beverage at a local store. A diveshop owner had told me that after a dive, pineapple mixes with the sea salt on your lips for a tasty treat. I thought I would experiment.

I showed up at the dock to discover the dive boat fully loaded with folks, gear and engines chugging. I was a little surprised and confirmed that departure time was 1:30, and it was. It was 1pm but people had got there early. The dive leader told me that I was right on time and to drop my gear and find another place to park. I'll spare you the story of regular coastal parking fun. Man, I hate rushing! I completely emptied my canvas sack of all my clothes and threw in my gear.

We pushed off. The crowd was a good cross-section of the folk that you find in Florida. People were from Connecticut, New York, Illinois and Ohio. When you ask someone in Florida "are you from Florida?," people usually respond with "Yep!" but then continue by saying that they were originally from this place or that place. This place and that place usually ends up being New York, Connecticut or Massacusetts. People have the thick east coast tongue, brashness, but are usually upfront and friendly. Go south of Daytona and the demographics change quite a bit.

The pitching of the boat got me queasy. The worst rolling I've experienced had to be in New Zealand. There I managed to fight it off until the return trip. Next, would have to be Lake Superior. There were times on that trip that the boat was actually adrift and see-sawing fiercly. But on Superior, I did not have queasiness get to me. As normal I chose not to take anything for motion sickness. For this diving trip, I could have used it.

We were going to do a drift drive. The lead diver holds a float flag and lets the current carry him along. The boat tracks the flag and picks up the divers when they surface. The rule with drift diving is that the group stays with the guy with float. If you are not with him, you are lost. We exited the boat and waited for the group to gather. Some people had some equipment troubles and remained on the boat or surface, the leader descended, the guy with the spear gun descended and then the guy with the video camera did the same. I knew it best to stay with someone and so I joined the cameraman in a search for the leader. Let's just say we fell into the 'lost' category. But the current flows in one direction and so we would make our way.

We dropped into near zero visibility. At about 60 feet the floor of the ocean could be seen. How can you describe the reef? Well, imagine that you gave a bunch of little children some playdough in a wide rainbow of colors. Blue, purple, green, pink and every other color you could imagine. Then give them some wire mesh, twist ties, jell-o and the molds to go with them. Leave them alone for a day or two and then, presto! What you see is the most rediculous extraterrestrial scene you could possibly imagine!

When you cast your eyes back and forth you'll see the occasional fish and the wildest assortment of undescernable forms on the bottom. Then you allow yourself to scan the bottom as you drift around. You see shapes in the form of giant vases, deflated basketballs, green Cheetos sculptures, minature trees, ripped-out seat cushions, feather dusters, empty kalamata olives, thin feather boa plants. Most of the time, the structures are unending and you would serve to deface the sanctitude of this place by putting a fin down.

During that first dive, the fish were spectacular. Groups of matchbook sized, little blue fish, flattened blue and yellow-nosed fish the size of frying pans, elongated ones the diameter and length of broom handles and any other variety you could imagine. My partner and I also saw a spotted morey eel and, most special, a loggerhead turtle swimming onwards. We were also acosted by a perpetually curious Remora. A Remora is a shark-looking fish, gray and white, that is about an arm in length. What I noticed first were slat-like structures atop its flat nose. These slats perform a suction which make it adhere to things like sharks and rays. It then feeds on the scraps which fall from the feeding animal's mouth. Well, this guy was very curious. He kept following us and my partner kept swatting at him to keep him at bay. I liked the fact he stayed with us.

At one point we descended into a little cove with a sandy bottom. What I thought about was how much like this resembled a place I would stop in the woods. A V-shaped indentation into the side of a hill with all sorts of secret growing things in the crevaces.

It was when we surfaced, got on the boat and prepared for the next dive that I got much more queasy. It might sound weird, but one dive is usually enough for me. I've sated those inquisitve tendencies and am now ready to chill or go do something else. Maybe its the puke-i-ness talking or sensational fatique, I am just ready to go. But we got ready again and as we were about to jump in again, I excused myself for a moment, removed my bc and puked over the side. The New Yorker said he saw that shrimp n' grits on the menu and it just didn't sound right. Well, it did to me and tasted great! The first time, that is.

As we were getting ready for the next dive people started talking about their decompression time and when they would be ready for the next dive. I looked at my computer and cursed myself for forgetting about that. I have done such shallow dives that it really didn’t matter how frequent you were in and out. But at these depths, you should be mindful of how long you are down and how long you need to acclimate your body to the pressure. I stared at my dive computer with the same mind-numbing and lost state that I used to get while calculating my THACO in Dungeons and Dragons. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t get it or could not calculate it, it was more that under pressure, calculations make me feel like a lost student in a classroom. Everyone gets it but me! It’s nice to have folks like Craig and Rob help you in times like that.

For our second dive we were all grouped together. The guy in front had a spear gun. There didn't seem to be nearly as many fish this time. I was fine with that fact as any fish of reasonable size soon had a spear sticking out of it. That served as a bit contradiction for me. To see a gentle, sometimes curious little creature swimming along and then, wammo! The fish is now impaled and thrashing around. It would be just like going to the candle part of church, where everyone lights a little candle and places it in the sand in order to offer up prayers to those in need. Then some chucklehead comes along and starts slapping out all the little candles with their paw. Sure it would looked kind of cool and might be something you'd think about doing for fun, but, hey! Poor little guys. They ended up in a little pile in the trash bin. I do think they planned on eating them though. They were mainly hog fish.

Well, that was the dive. I got the camera out a little bit - on the surface. But there was neither much video going nor was there any pineapple munching. My queasiness somewhat numbed me.

It sure was nice to have my first Atlantic dive completed. Last time I dove was beneath ice. The time before that was a summer dive in Square and before that, New Zealand.

Oh, about sea salt… When you are at sea, the salt gets everywhere, especially if there is wind. Anything that is moist attracts salt. Anything. When you are done with the sea you have this grimey film all over you. Your hands are cakey and you really desire a shower! It’s worth it for the experience.

Today’s breakfast was movie popcorn, cherry Coke and Reeses Pieces! In the morning I rinsed off my dive gear and dried it out in the sun for a bit before I hit the road for Boca Raton. Palm Beach was having their International Film Festival. I got there right before the 12pm showing, grabbed a random ticket for the 3 independent showings mentioned grabbed my popcorn and snacks and got my seat. I had selected the student showcase which was showing the award winners of the high school and college category.

I had been jones-ing for a move badly but neither time nor a good selection had panned out until this moment. This was perfect! There were about ten different students films which ran from commercials, music videos, animated and short film. They ran the gamut but all were good for what they were. One had production value that would easily bump most Hollywood pictures in many ways, but most had the independent feel. It was strange that the best produced were also the most violent. There were a few films involving torture, horror and the like. It’s bothersome that so much film energy is spent on that. In one film I laughed at the thought of “what could be done with a hole-puncher” and then cringed at the fact that the writer figured something out. Icky!

Most of those in attendance were the kids that made the films. It kicked off with the promoter making a point that she wanted those kids to stay in the area and make films in Florida. I thought that was really great! It’s wonderful when people support the arts at the youth level and understand the mutual benefit of showcasing your own area and talent!

Afterwards there was an question and answer session for the students. I asked one about distribution, to help it along. Students had many different aspirations. One of the girls was actually heading off to play soccer for North Carolina! (Their the best in the nation.) Most of them were pursuing their film desire. I grabbed my camera and got a few of the kids to promo their pieces, which they did gladly (Their folks were their too.) One of those I got was a kid not much older than 11 who had starred in one of the films about a piano savant in Chicago. He had ‘young actor’ written all over him.

Feeling quite rejuvenated by the session and the Mitzner commons with rows of palms and fresh, new fascades and sculptures, I popped in the car and headed south to Hollywood. I was wondering where to eat, pulled quickly off the congested beach front street, and voila! Right in front of me was Tony’s pizza. Yeah, I ate there cause of my name, partially. But it’s also been imprinted on me from an early age.

Way back in the basement of Transfiguration school with Ms. Rubio and her guitar is where it all took place. The class of 30 or so of us, the same 30 that went to school together for eight years, all in our little blue uniforms. Rubio would end each class with that one song about flies and frogs or whatever. But each song would incorporate the names of at least half the kids in the class and you always waited with anticipation to see if she would put you in a role. Two people would end up getting married. So, you’d both dread it and hope you got paired with the cute girl in the class. But, without fail, it wasn’t me ending up with the cute girl. “Oh where will the wedding supper be, uh- huh, uh-huh, oh where will be the wedding supper be uh-huh, uh-huh, way down yonder by TONY’S PIZZARIA…” Yeah, without fail…

This Crowne Plaza certainly is a ritzy place! But all the ritzy places seem to blend together. For dinner I had Miso glazed seabass and a New Zealand Cabernet Sauvignon. Yeah, I pretty much only buy New Zealand wines. Props to N Zed!

Oh yeah, I just got a call the other day that some people had bought some of my photos on display in Winona. That's cool! If you conjure up thoughts to do something, do it! Hell, at the very least you can say, "at least I tried, dammit!"

The next shoots go south from here. It should be about a week in the keys before I head back northward. In the meantime, check out the fancy sink!