Dive Report: Hydro Atlantic Date: Sunday March 26, 2000 Boat: SeaHorse Captain: Mike Halprin By: Mike Rodriguez It was a warm, clear day... perfect for diving. Everyone arrived at the boat, and we were loaded and on our way on-time. The short ride to the dive site was pleasant in the mild seas which were running about two to three feet. The air temperature was 78F and the water temperature was 75F. At the site, I volunteered to help the divemaster as he prepared to take down a floatline. The captain called to us that we were over the wreck. About three minutes later, when the divemaster was ready to jump, the captain said we were still over the wreck, so there didn't seem to be any current at all. A few minutes later, we spotted the divemaster's lift-bag and as he surfaced, I tossed him the floatball to tie into the line, then I geared-up for the dive as the captain helped the divemaster get aboard. I was diving trimix 23/25/52 with 50% and 100% for deco. The captain positioned us for the drop, and I jumped in followed by the other divers. There was almost no current all the way down and the visibility was around 60 feet. I switched on my canister-type dive light and was disappointed when it didn't come on. I messed around with it for a bit, but finally gave up, clipped off the Goodman handle and went to a backup light. Later on the surface, the light worked correctly, and I never determined what the problem was. I used it on numerous dives since and it's worked perfectly every time. As I approached the wreck over the stern deck, I went over the starboard side to look at the rudder, but I stopped the descent when I noticed a large grouper. It was hovering off the starboard side at about 150 feet, 20 feet above the sand. I forgot about the rudder and moved very slowly toward the grouper trying not to spook it. As I got close, it moved backward away from me, so I stopped about 15 feet away from it and waited for it to get used to my presence, then I moved slowly closer again. I was perfectly neutral and perfectly trim, so the slightest movement of my fins moved me forward and the slightest movement of my hands moved me sideways or backwards. About 5 feet from the grouper, I could shine my light in its mouth and see its gills clearly. I cursed at my primary light for failing, then made the best of my backup light by moving closer still to the fish. I tried to get a little closer, but my exhalations disturbed the grouper, so I stayed around 5 feet away and just watched it. It seemed to have gotten used to me, but it kept an eye on me the whole time. By now, I'd become so relaxed, that my breathing was down to well under two breaths per minute. I took advantage of this and held my breath as I slowly moved closer to the fish. I got within 18 inches before my proximity began to alarm it. At that distance, I could see all kinds of interesting detail inside it's mouth. There was a membrane of skin or something over its lower lip (do fish have lips?) that waved in and out as water flowed over it; it almost seemed like the fish was breathing. I could clearly see the pink gills and the surrounding structures. It was an amazing experience to be this close to a wild animal without it showing any fear. I held my breath there for about 60 seconds, then I backed up, took a breath, and repeated the cycle several more times. I was having such a great time just watching the grouper that I spent 35 of my planned 40 minutes bottom time with it. As my bottom timer reached 35 minutes, I removed my left glove, held my breath one last time and moved toward the fish. Very slowly, I reached out and actually touched it! Its reaction was just to gently move away a few inches. The big grin on my face partially flooded my mask. I knew my bottom time was running out, so I took in a little more air and reluctantly ascended over the grouper. When I was about 20 feet above it, I cleared my mask and put my glove back on. The grouper was still hovering where I'd left it. I decided to take a quick tour of the ship before leaving, so I swam toward the bow. I rounded the bow as the perpetual school of fish there moved out of the way, then I swam toward the stern where the other divers were already ascending on the line. The last diver off the wreck unhooked the line and we began our decompression which was pleasant in the warm clear water. A while later everyone was back on the boat enjoying the beautiful day.