Lucky day. (Raymond Abdulnour)

One day, a buoy, anchored one mile off the coast of Dbayeh, drew our attention. Danny Chamoun, Mario Medawar and myself, decided to dive there, We did not suspect the adversity which waited us. We borrowed the speedboat of a friend, cruised to the spot, and moored to the buoy. Besides our basic equipment, Danny had a long pointed dagger and Mario had a cumbersome torch. He also used a pneumatic harpoon, with a central butt, powerful but of short reach. I used a rubber-powered harpoon, provided with a long arrow 20mm in diameter called "tahitian". We gathered our gear and went into the water. Then, having adjusted our watches, we began our descent along the cable attached to buoy. The flat sandy bottom with scattered rocks was 100 feet deep. Visibility was of about fifty feet. After a while a bench of horse mackerels (carangidae), about one foot each, passed in our reach. I shot in the heap, harpooned one, but it tore away brutally from the arrow, and disappeared in the blue.

Five minutes later a huge amberjack (seriola) approached. Curious, it began turning in circle ten to fifteen feet away. My companions, judging that only my crossbow had a chance to reach it, made me sign to shoot. They insisted with a lot of gestures. The size of the beast, not less than 6 feet made me hesitate. After reflection, and encouragement of my teammates, I decide to shoot it. I thought that pressing the trigger with the tip of my finger would permit me to let go my weapon if by any chance I made a hit. Amberjacks, especially of that size, were known to be extremely powerful and I did not want to risk a broken finger. The fish, still attracted with our bubbles, began its third circle around us. It gave me time to calm myself, hold my breath and aim at the head. With my arm extended and the length of my harpoon I was closer to the target by at least 6.6 feet. For a moment I was glad I missed my shot. Then I realized I was drifting away with the fish. That was our first chance: the amberjack seemed paralyzed.
Mario rushed and shot it in the belly, just in time, my arrow already bent was getting loose. Danny struck twice with his dagger aiming at the base of the head, but it kept moving, carrying us away. We drifted towards the buoy, our second chance (or adversity?), and seeing the cable at hand, Mario decided to hold on to it. At this point, everything went bad! In full water, the amberjack pulled us without obstacle. The moment we hung on to a fixed point, we finally got entangled with the thread of the crossbow. The thread tore away Mario’s mask and regulator. He swallowed seawater, Then panicking he decided to unbuckle his belt abandon his scuba and reach for the surface. Unfortunately the wrist-strap of his cumbersome torch got entangled to his diving gear and stopped him. There he was upside down and practically blind as I helped him free and he resumed his ascent. He told me later what he had felt: he was palming like a maniac not respecting any rules, those 100 feet seemed an eternity. When he felt he could resist no more, he saw the hull of the boat in the distance and regained courage. He could not remember how he finally got safe into the boat. That was the third and last chance. Once in the boat, he started worrying for us; he looked around hoping to see us surfacing. The sea was white with bubbles from his scuba left open at the bottom.

As for me, having well fastened the amberjack to buoy cable, I realizing the mess we got in and started up looking for my companion. It was only when I saw him panting, looking overboard, that I felt reassured. Every time I think about this dive I regret not having tried to hold Mario down. We could have tempted a buddy ascent, both of us using my equipment. This lack of reflex could have been fatal. Once Danny surfaced with all the diving gear left behind, I decided to go down and try to bring back our catch. When I reached the bottom I saw it still circling around attached to the cable, untied it and began a slow ascent. Thanks to the working gloves I wore, I pulled my burden and myself up along the cable. I stopped ten feet below the surface like paralyzed. I remembered when I used to fish tuna. They usually reacted at the last minute, just when they saw the mirror of the surface. What if the monster I was dragging did the same. Fortunately my companions, who had joined me, fastened its tail, with a rope, and hoisted it aboard the boat.

Tired but satisfied by the outcome of the adventure, we returned proudly to port with our trophy. Later on, analyzing this dive, we realize the number of committed errors.

- Not having someone waiting in the boat to help in case we surfaced a mile away.
- We should have remained grouped all the time.
- We should have circled around with the fish not allowing it to come between the cable and us.
- When Mario was stopped in his ascent I should have handed him my regulator. This should have calmed him and we could have quietly reached the surface.
- We should have had scubas in reserve, allowing Mario to go down at least half the maximum depth and start again slowly to the surface, respecting decompression stages.

 

 

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1