Lanesville Shores and S & M

Long, low rollers from the east were breaking in huge plumes on Halibut Point.   The Captain declared we should “turn around…NOW!”  I cut the circle too tightly and a whole pot of Pete’s freshly made chili hit the floor in the galley.   We’re talking about roughly a gallon of pungent red lunch splashed on every surface down there.  As I motored back towards Lanesville, Peter, half-dressed in his drysuit, began cleaning up the mess.  This involved unscrewing the stairs and taking up the floorboard, a little dust pan and a whole roll of paper towels.   Pat and Laurent helped too.  Laurent dunked the floorboard and stairs by hand off the swim platform.  Then he scrubbed them clean. What a great customer!

The first site ended up being Lanesville Shores, just northeast of Lanes Cove.  I set the anchor in 33 feet of water.  It was 57 degrees from the surface to the bottom.  All the salps were gone.  My video camera was put to good use filming a little rock gunnel that was almost friendly.  I also shot a scarlet psolus and a crab that was cleaning barnicles off a rock with little cunners looking over his shoulder for crumbs. 

Peter, Jacki Kronenberg, and Curt Fowler found huge starfish that were about 12 inches across.  Curt also took a picture of a too-big lobster.  Visibility was about 15-20 feet.

Thanks to Pat, we had chicken noodle soup to warm our hands between dives.

The second site was a little closer to the Annisquam River, S & M.  This is a great place for lobsters.  Since it was low tide, I was careful not to run aground on the huge rock that splits the center of the site.  Again, the water was 57 degrees from the surface to 27 feet.  The bottom was dusty and silty in places where the hunters had been scrabbling around.  In other places, Pete and Jacki found low, round pink rocks and dust-covered skates.  He said there were lots of great, big lobsters and lots of tiny ones, but none in the middle.

I found two scarlet psoluses to video here.   Visibility was variable from 5-15 feet, depending on whose trail you crossed.  The light from the sun was low and at an angle.  It made for dramatic images of cunner and ghost traps against the bare rock.

There were hardly any other boats out today.  Maybe they’ve called it a season. 

Not us.  Not yet.

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