Why do I do this to myself? 30 feet down, just past the thermocline, in the cold 60 F water and lying there hoping to see some silver flashes in the 6 foot visibility. A flash to my right.
I breathe up before each dive facing downwards, but every now and then sneak another peek at the canyons and flat-topped ‘buttes’, laughing quietly at how ridiculous it is to be diving in a flooded canyon in a desert. A 3,000 foot escarpment runs away to the north, the whole scene painted with wavy beige and brick-red lines, I keep wondering how many fossils lie in the soft rock that has been crumbling, and still will crumble, for millions of years. I imagine cowboys riding along these river flanks coming down to the water. Before them, maybe hunters from the Hopi tribe following elk with bows – ironically the technology my speargun derives from. Diving here seems a totally crazy idea. Underwater, the flat bays edge into coral-pink rocky ridges and off into the abyss of the main Colorado River canyon in places. So, the scenery is one reason why.
Poking around in the warm shallows where the visibility really shuts down, carp are spawning in schools. A few hip-shots miss in the silty water, but most are good. The more we can shoot of these invasives, the better. I get 34 for the day and whilst it’s not glamorous diving, it is actually kinda fun and challenging to find them and shoot them in these conditions.
With water rising more than a foot a day across the 180-mile length of Lake Powell, each day was different and the leaves of the flooded plants are still green in the shallows. The Walleye liked hanging near the Crappies above clumps of tumbleweed, plenty of small-mouth bass usually coming in to check me out. Catfish were doing what catfish do – muck-munching and that fatty side-wobble swim. Sometimes the visibility reached 10 foot or more (woohoo!).
More than 50 of us are doing this same crazy diving, with teams from all around the world. The mixed pairs, women’s teams, masters, and open division provide different levels of competition within the event. Many of the divers are familiar names that have become legends amongst our fraternity, names I was familiar with from the Freedivelist of the 1990’s, like Mike McGuire; tribal leaders and tribal elders, all still contributing to the sport. That’s another reason we do this.
A flash to my right, 3 fish looping around me. Bang! It’s a good one. Finally I am on the board with a nice Striper. This is why I do this to myself.
