I took this (bad) photo of the dive map hoping I could reference it on my camera if I go lost! (We were only diving to a depth of 20', so I'd always be able to just surface if I lost my orientation - but that's for cheaters!)
Instead of standing on the sandbar, we were going to jump off the boat about 50ft away from the sandbar, sink to the bottom (only about 15' down) and wait from some stingrays to get a whiff of the squid we holding and come over. Here's our divemaster using a stuffed stingray to explain the stingray's anatomy and demonstrate how you feed them.
were going to be putting on scuba gear and sitting on the ocean floor at a depth
For our second dive, we headed over to Stingray City. Stingray City is a sandbar on the northwest side of the island where the stingrays have become used to people and you can feed them right out of your hand! Here's a quick history of how this came to be that I took from this site:
Years ago before banking and tourism was big in Grand Cayman the main industry was fishing. The fishermen would work the seas all day and return to the protection of the of the reef in the north sound to clean their catch. After years of throwing the entrails overboard, the Stingrays began gathering in the area on the shallow sand bars. The stingrays would feast on the free meal. Soon the stingrays began to associate the sound of a fishing boats with food. In the late 1970s, divers starting feeding squid to the stingrays, which is one of their favorite dishes. Before long, dozens of rays would show up each day to be fed, attracted by the boat engines and the memory of an easy meal.
Here's a pic of a bunch of people standing on the sandbar in the middle of the bay and feeding the stingrays!
I got up bright and early on Wednesday morning and headed out on the boat for a three-dive trip! The first (and deepest) dive of the day was at a dive spot called "Babylon." Here's our divemaster walking us through a map of the site.
Armed and dangerous. Usually, I try my hardest to be a "live and let live" kind of guy. But I draw the line at sentients that seek what entomologists call a "blood meal."
Meredith and my mom showing off their flyswatters. Coastal NJ in the summer is plagued with greenhead flies. They bite during the day and it hurts like HELL.
We ended up taking the across the lake and docking at an awesomely shitty bar called the Tidal Wave (which, if you're a long time reader, you'll remember as the bar where 2001's Midget Madness took place!). Yeah, that's right - there's a lake in my town that has bars that you can go to BY BOAT!
We didn't get to my parent's place until later on in the evening. We kicked it with my fam for a bit and then everyone went to bed! I wasn't tired, so I called Tim, Scott, Reminay and Erika. I got there around 1am and we decided to hop into Tim's boat (the SS Farley!) and take 'er for a spin on Lake Hopatcong (The largest lake in NJ is in my hometown).
Man, sometimes you wait your whole life to see something and you finally see it and you just got to stand back and be all like "Wow, I'm finally seeing it." But then depression sets in because it's like "Where do I go from here?"
After lunch we hopped in my car and headed north to check out the Fisherman's Wharf area. Where there are all sorts of hot tourist attractions like the world famous...
The loser is the person who finally elicits a slurred scream of "OW! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ASSHOLES FUCKING DOING? THAT FUCKING HURT!" Make sure not to use up all of your ice, your Dempsey will need it to help reduce the swelling on the mulitude of red bumps on his head and/or face.
It turns out Dempsey had decided to walk down to the dock and pass the fuck out in Tim's boat! We spent the next ten minutes playing a game called "Don't Wake Dempsey!" All you need is a few drunk friends with good throwing arms and an assortment of items to throw! (We found out that ice works better than coins). Points are awarded each time you managed to hit Dempsey in the head and/or face without arousing him from his drunken slumber!
Here's Skipper Jr. chilling on the *heh* poop deck. (Okay, I don't know if that's technically what the little back area's called, but I just wanted to say "poop deck.")
On the way back inland, I took Brett on a trip down "Torturous Big Brother Memory Lane" by waking him from his slumber with a long-range shot to the balls with the 25' gaff pole. Hehehehe.
Here's my parent's boat, the "SS Weak Moment" (named after what my mom must've been having when she "allowed" my dad to buy a boat) parked at the house's dock.
Oh, I forgot to mention - before we set out, each of the sixteen people on the boat threw in $10 towards a pool to be awared for two prizes: Half the money would go to the person catching the biggest fish (the "biggest" prize), the other half would go to the person who caught the most fish (the "most" prize). Got it? After four hours of fishing, my brother, having caught five fish was tied for the "most" prize with some other guy. Ten minutes before the captain was scheduled to call "lines up" and head back to shore, my brother (in the blue hat), hooked yet another fish which made him the winner of the "most" prize (with six fish caught).
With our proud angling lineage in mind, we puffed our chests, hoisted our hopes and cast our lines towards the sea (that's Capt. Mike in standing next to my brother).
After the ceremony, we all headed over the Grange Hall on the mainland for a much larger memorial service in Stephen's honor. Brian and Brian in the back of the boat!
That's Cousin Kevin Crowell (who taught me how to water ski when I was a wee lad!) ferrying us over to the island for a small memorial service and burying of the ashes.
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