Cornfield Dive


One of the more interesting aspects (for which I've gained several new nicknames and undoubtedly will get some awards at our Holiday party), was what happened on our first Lock 28/Conestoga dive, during MUD's '05 dive trip to the St. Lawrence Seaway.   I could go on and on for a very long time describing this, but I'll try to give ya'll the short version.  For this particular dive you enter into a canal/lock system that parallels the actual river.  You descend to about 15-20 feet and then the current in the canal will pull you for about 400 yards to a cut that goes into the river.  The current picks up dramatically and goes through the cut (shoots you into the river) and curves to the left and eventually deposits you onto the wreck. It takes about 30 minutes to reach the wreck from the start of the dive.  Somehow, we got into a back eddy (near the cut) and were having to kick extremely hard to make any headway.  As it turns out we were too close to the wall and not far enough in the middle of the canal.  I came up to see where we were.  I was holding onto the wall while on the surface to take a look, and somehow one of my fin straps came off.  While I was working on it, somehow my weight belt came off - perhaps it had dragged along the wall.  The bottom line is that without the belt I didn't feel like I could get to the wreck.  Hence, I swam on the surface across the canal to the other side (about 50 yards). As it turns out this pushed me at least 100 yards down stream, and I ended up being right across from the cut.

For a LOT of reasons it looked like there were trails through the woods and weeds that would get me to the road.  Hence, I decided to walk out to the road (there was another person in our party who didn't make the dive, so I was able to yell across the canal to him, so he could tell everyone when they came up that I was fine and hadn't drowned).  However, once I got about 20 feet into the "trail" it vanished. To make a long story short I had to bushwack in chin high weeds for about 200 yards, in a dry suit (with my coveralls on top of them), and about a 100 pounds of tanks on my back, and fins, mask gloves, hood in my hands.  The temperature was also in the 80s!!  When I finally came out of the woods I was NOT at the road but came out in a muddy plowed corn field!!!  I had to walk about 100 yards down a cornfield to reach the farmhouse, next to the road. You have to remember that I use pink fins.  The home owner was stunned to see someone walk out of his cornfield, wearing coveralls and a dry suit lugging pink fins and scuba tanks!!!!  I think he thought I was a terrorist trying to infiltrate Canada!!  He came up to me and said "I've never seen anyone dressed like you walk out of my cornfield", to which I replied "Oh no .... it happens everyday"!!  Alls well that ends well.  Of course the next day I literally had weeds and corn kernels (I kid you not) falling out of my gear onto the deck of the boat!!  Of course, instead of Bigfoot I was now called either Pink Foot, or Bushman, and just plain old corn guy!!

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