Off the coast of Panama…

      We were anchored up in a “C” shaped bay about 500 yards long and 500 yards deep and even though the wind was howling from the North, inside the bay was nice and flat. Since this was the first day of this live aboard panga trip, the three of us,  Michelle, my brother Butch, 72, and I,  knew we needed to start with an easy warm up, with some clear, flat, safe water and relaxed diving. The opening of the “C” was facing East and we anchored up at the top of the “C”,  still 100 yards inside the bay in 40 feet of calm water. As we suited up and watched the bait jumping near shore, we decided the boat was safe and we all could cruise along the shore and follow it the last 100 yards or so, out to the point,  the top of the “C” where the bay ended, and then return to the boat. The tidal change was about 16 feet, but as we swam along about 20 yards from shore we could feel no current.  We were relaxed,  floating along and diving down into the bait, expecting a big Pargo to appear at any moment. As we neared the point, we kept our faces in the water watching below, fascinated, as the bait was going off,  and everything was perfect——until I looked up. In literally one instant, my mental state went from peaceful, calm, and relaxed——to freaked out and scared stiff.  ...We were Caught in The Rush…

      We were only 20 feet outside the point when I realized the danger and I shouted to nearby Butch and Michelle to swim back for the rocky point as we were getting sucked out..  The raging north current was by- passing the bay except for the last few feet of the point, where the Rush was a bottomless invisable river carrying EVERYTHING out to sea. I kicked harder and harder back toward the rocky point and could see that we were in trouble and may not make it.. As I thought about getting sucked out into the open, rough seas,  with howling wind, with the night coming on, and no hope of rescue, my adrenlin cut in and I knew it was now or never.. We had to swim with full power just to stay even, and, since I was carrying the gun, I could not use my arms. I could see the boulders just below me and could tell that I was not moving ahead.  I decided to streamline, apply more efficient power and breathe so that I did not burn out. In about 15 feet of water I thought I could dive down and grab the rocks and pull my self ahead toward the shore. But as I tipped up, it swept me backward faster and it took so much enegy to make the dive and get back to zero that I decided to stay on the surface till I was shallower.

    Thank heaven, Butch is in good shape from handball, and he turned on the burners and could use his arms and legs. He was the first to get close to the shore and, unknown to me,  a wave washed him up on the jagged rocks and his weight belt got pulled off.  It was probably a godsend as he was more buoyant, and the next wave washed him back off, scared but in one piece. But now he was shallow enough to swim and grab the rocks and pull himself forward against the current. He shouted back to me to watch for his weight belt, knowing without it, his diving might be over for this trip.

    I spotted it in the shallow water and while fighting the current, getting thrown around in the foam and carrying a loaded gun, I moved the weight belt atop a big boulder and took marks on the shore so that we could find it again.. I looked for Michelle and saw her little fins going 100 beats a minute and she was moving ahead and I had no worries about her burning out.  I have never seen the current so strong in 3 or 4 feet of water where I could barely hang on to the rocks, so I kept moving closer in.  I felt a surge from behind me and I was carried up into a narrow channel and suddenly I was on my back on the rocks with a loaded gun and could not see what was around me because of the bubbles. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.  This was hardly turning out to be our safe,  relaxed first dive of the trip.  I knew to grab a rock so that the next wave did not did not wash me further in to the vortex, but with the foam I could not see the rocks or see if Michelle was in front of my loaded gun. I know now, one of the first things I should have done in this out of control situation was unload the gun. But I finally got right side up,  and found a rock to grab. That way I could hold myself in place against the next rising surge, and then I could pull myself forward and off the rocks just before it dropped. With fear I remembered the foam and bubbles from past experiences, and was reminded of how easy it is to get seriously cut up and banged up on the rocks in the shallow water, simply because with the bubbles you cannot see how to protect yourself..  With great relief I rode a wave off the rocks and was swimming again and in one piece. When I looked up I could see that Butch had escaped the Rush and made it back to the boat. Michelle and I were out of the danger zone and Butch cranked up the motor and came and picked us up. We were all shaken by the experience as we visualized ourselves floating in open ocean at night with no one looking for us.  But we were grateful to have survived our warm up dive, and convinced that never again did we want to experience being—Caught in the Rush.  We picked up Butch’s belt as the boat waited close by. Hopefully we remember the lesson—One person stays in the boat at all times and then the divers can hunt safely, and not worry about becoming chum, or becoming Neptune’s permanent guests, just because we were inadvertently,  Caught in the Rush.

    On this entire trip we found cold,dirty water— perfect conditions—- exactly what we were hoping for, and best for this time of year——- and the fish were everywhere. The following trip 10 days later, it was warm and clear and few fish. Over the next couple of days of diving we all got to see and shoot some nice fish. Occassionally we would be surrounded by schools of Bohala. After we had all shot one fish we decided not to shoot anything under 40 lbs., because it takes so much time to clean the fish and our cooler was almost full. On one deep dive I encountered a beautiful school of the biggest, red pargo seguero that I have seen.  I shot one, managed to cut my little finger on the shooting cable, but landed the fish. With my cut finger and aching back I was not ready to clean another fish so I gave it to a very happy and surprised,  young fisherman in his cayuco, on the way in.

    Where we decided to anchor up,  a small cruise ship, the first I have seen, was in the same tiny bay. We laughed at their “Adventure”, as their shore boat ferried passengers, mostly young, to a nearby beach to sit and fry, with no shade, in the 100degree heat and be eaten by the mosquitoes and chitras. Little did they know that less than a mile away,  there existed another world of adventure, where there were still monsters of the deep roaming the waters.  As we all know, the sport of hunting these big fish on a breath hold offers such excitement that it is an adventure where one can easily and quickly get——Caught in the Rush.  The Rush of adrenlin we all feel in the presence of big fish. But at night—- as the sunburned passengers looked out from the deck of their cruise ship, at the three of us trying to sleep in the pitching, rocking panga,  I am sure they were very happy with their adventure.  I must admit it looked pretty cozy and inviting, and if we could just hunt from a cruise ship, then we could shoot all day and never fill up the coolers.

    We often see Bonita boiling on the surface but have had no luck jumping in and finding anything underneath. Butch suggested we try fishing this time to get chum, so I bought a $25 spinning rod and reel combo to take with us. We discovered a fun new thing—for us-  fishing. Imagine that! We can see the fish, we pull the line in front of the school and Bam—they always bite. Anybody likes this type of fishing.  No sitting, no waiting, and the fish are powerful enough that they burned up my expensive rod and reel. A few fish, and we are fixed with the perfect chum, because everything seems to like bloody bonita. But—- I need a bigger reel for the next trip.  Oh No—More equipment!

    One evening we were in a protected anchorage and a young Danish guy came over from his sailboat, in his dingy and asked if he could go diving with us the next day.  He was a good diver and could go deep but had never seen or shot anything over a couple of pounds. He joined us the next day and we hunted in one place for two or three hours and saw nothing. But then we went inside to a shallow reef and the bohala were going off—big time.  Butch shot a 46 lb fish and Michelle promptly followed with a 52 lb bohala and Beck was carrying a short, two foot long, pnumatic. He was swarmed by 10 or 12 of these monster fish and he had this little pea-shooter in his hand. He fired and the fish took off and Beck never let go of the gun, as the fish took him down. The guy was awestruck, and I don’t know if he would have let go or died first.  But the spear finally pulled out and he came to the surface with his eyes like saucers, astounded by the power of the fish. You can guess what his first words were, as he looked at his peashooter———“I need a Bigger Gun .” You are right!—and everything that goes with it.  But we shared stories and a great meal on his sailboat that night and enjoyed the company of his two man, and four girl crew,  one of the girls being the most drop dead beautiful Nordic girl I have ever seen. With that one big fish experience, I think Beck is hooked, and no doubt he will be better prepared next time when he is Caught in the Rush of big Bohala.

    Buddy diving with one gun is enjoyable and has the advantage of 4 eyes scanning.  Butch and I were down together in clear water, about 15 feet apart.  A big bohala was approaching directly from behind him and in his 180 degree scan he saw nothing, until he saw me excitedly pointing at the big fish.. He slowly turned, extending the gun and as the fish came around and started down, he fired. – BAM—- It was a perfect stone shot and he froze the big Bohala. The entire brief sequence is unforgettably burned into my memory in slow motion detail as I was the relaxed observer, and not Caught in the Rush of adrenlin of the hunter. Both perspectives are great—but different.

    On one solo dive, I was deep, out of breath, in dark water, when the only big Pargo Dienton of the trip, over 50 lbs, came into view. He came up for a quick look, did a U turn and started back down, as they usually do. Being too far to stone him, and too deep to fight him, I knew I could easily loose my gear. The temptation was too great —I fired —BAM—. I started up for air and my float line, just in front of my face, was going down so fast that I was afraid to grab it. With me going up and the buoy going down with such speed,  had I grabbed the line or buoy, I would have been whiplashed. When the buoy floated up, I pulled on the line and I could feel the vibration of the spear hitting the rocks.  I yanked harder on the line and felt it go slack—he had come off.  I got back my bent spear but the slip tip cable had parted, so my tip was gone. Another expensive lesson. Don’t get Caught in the Rush of adrenlin and take a shot at a big pargo—- unless all the conditions are perfect.

    Our little 95 HP Chocolatita took honors for top gun with the biggest fish. During two driftes where she was surrounded by 40 lb fish, she held her fire and waited for the one with her name on it. There was one tiny point in the whole area that dropped off into the ripping current and the fish were no where else, but they were all concentrated at just this one high spot. I drove the boat to put Michelle exactly on the dime, because you get one dive and you are blown past. On the third pass, the Big Boy on the block finally showed up and she took him out with a great shot—-BAM—. Michelle was very happy with her new personal best Bohala of 56 lbs, which beat both Butch and me by a few pounds.

    We headed back early for home because Sunday it is crazy at the lanch ramp and we did not want to get Caught in the Rush. Instead we got Caught in the Mud. We arrived at extreme low tide and the mud was two feet deep at the bottom of the ramp. No one could get their boat out, but we waited two hours, the canal level rose five feet and we were good to go.

    After considerable medical research into a disc injury to my spine that happened in December, I realize that my hard core dive trips may have come to an abrupt end. A thirteen hour trip in my panga in rough seas caused disc compression and has severly restricted my activities. Often you have to loose your health, to really appreciate that it is Number One, on the list, but it is a flickering and fragil flame. Today many of us feel Caught in the Rush of more responsibilities, more government, more controls, more complications, more people, and a lot more BS.  May we all remember,  that we have entree into one of the Last places on earth where everything is Quiet, and Free and Real.  Spend your sacred, silent time, with Nature, on a breath hold beneath the sea, so that you can return, and more easily, go with the flow, when you are——Caught in the Rush.

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Dix and Michelle Roper
    dixroper@earthlink.net
    March 2008