Last Sunday started off unsuspecting enough. I went to church and heard a great sermon about Jesus raising the girl from the dead. I came home briefly to prepare for the dive and went out on my way.
THE CAR:
Nearing the fork to go to the bridge to Key Biscayne, traffic suddenly seized up and became as thick as it was during the Sony Ericsson Open a few weeks ago. As I was stopped in the thick of it, my car suddenly jolted forward. Looking to make sure I hadn't stalled, I checked my rear view window and much to my dismay I saw a white Plymouth Neon too close for comfort. I turned on my hazards, checked for passing cars, got out and motioned the car to follow me. I led them to a private drive a dozen yards ahead, took down the driver's information, and turned to get back to my car. Before I could make it there, the passenger called out to me and asked me for directions to the beach. Classic. (Yes, I provided directions.)
THE FISH:
Arriving late (well, because it's Miami I was still one of the first ones there) to the dive, I started setting up my gear. Our instructor told us that instead of the regularly scheduled dive, we would be doing a “species eradication” dive. You see, lionfish are not endemic to Florida or anywhere in the Caribbean; they belong in the Pacific. They are an invasive species that have done nothing but ravage the reefs since they first arrived. We were given a crash course on spearfishing and before we knew it were in the water making our descents. After passing the second piling I looked back to see one of my buddies flailing her arms around. In less than 5 minutes, she found 3 lionfish together. Excited, I turned and followed her extended finger directly to their position. I cocked the spear, came in close to the largest fish, and released it. Although it was a direct hit, the tips were too blunt to puncture the skin. The two larger fish immediately bolted but the smaller remained in place so I tried again with the same result. To make a long story slightly less long, we saw about 8 lionfish before we (Heather) successfully speared one without it swimming free.
The idea is that once you spear the fish, the proper technique on this dive was to kill it with a knife through the head so naturally I offered the knife to Heather who shook her head at me. I shrugged and took the spear and fish down to the bottom a few feet below to give myself an operating surface. I positioned the knife and then pushed inward. Perhaps it was a lack of experience that did me in but since the fish was not secured very well, there was some movement as the knife pushed on one end and ultimately it moved when I went in for the kill. This alone wouldn't have been an issue if it were not for the fact that lionfish have conspicuous higly poisonous spikes all over their bodies. One of these spikes managed to pierce my work glove and prick my right index finger. I timidly stopped what I was doing, recoiled in super slow motion, dropped the knife which slowly sank to the sand, hesitated, slowly turned to my buddies, and then back to my hand. I cautiously removed the glove and when I pinched my skin, my fears were confirmed in the form of a tiny drop of blood.
I had been stung by a lionfish.
I slowly turned back to my buddies and when one asked if I was okay I shook my head and signaled to ascend. Rick pulled me aside before the dive and told me that he was putting me in charge of divers and wanted to make sure I understood all the safety measures of the dive. I made the difficult decision to end the dive for all 4 of us based on the “better safe than sorry” mentality though I really wanted to send them back down.
Frankly I didn't know what was going to happen to me although it turned out that the injury was not fatal. For anyone not allergic to lionfish stings who suffers a sting to the extremities will only have to deal with pain. It sets in a few minutes after being stung and slowly progresses. After 5 minutes, swelling will begin to occur and when another 5 minutes go by, the extremity will begin to go numb while the pain slowly spreads. When treated with hot water for at least 15 minutes (salt or fresh), the symptoms will subside...eventually. This may take days (I still feel evidence of the sting 4-5 days later), but the wounds will heal.
THE FALL:
Our team bagged the largest lionfish out of the bunch but unfortunately it was the only one with which we surfaced. We cleaned our gear and decided as a group to go to the dock and have some fun jumping off and swimming. Plenty of time and jumps, leaps, flips, spins, dives, and splashes later, we were all nearing the end of our swim session. I took a final dive into the water about 10 feet below and started swimming toward a nearby rope to hold on and rest in the current. Before I could reach the rope however, a jarring pain shot through my leg. I was stunned motionless for a few seconds but as I slowly came to my senses I pieced together that someone had just landed on me. Adding in what others said, I deduced that one of my classmates was pushed from the dock by another and landed knee-first on the side/back of my left thigh. Considering how it happened though, a lot went right: first of all she is the smallest one in our class and furthermore she landed on the strongest most durable part of my body. Had she landed on my back, neck, head, chest, hip, stomach, or any joint at all, it would have been a different story. Sure my leg was terribly sore for the following 3 days, but these things happen.
THE BAR:
Instead of quitting while ahead that night, I thought it would be safe to go out to chill with the same people at a bar in Coral Gables that had live music. I didn't end up ordering anything the whole night (true to form), but within the first 2 minutes of walking through the door, one of my classmates had her beer on a wobbly table and ended up spilling most of it on me. At that point I just laughed because really, what more could happen?
THE KEY:
I managed to make it out the rest of the night unscathed but had the need to quickly make the half-mile trip to the post office the following morning. I left myself enough time to go there by bike and rode straight to the closest bike rack. When I went to open my lock in order to place it on my bike, the key became stuck. It would turn 90 degrees but would not pull out or turn the rest of the 90 degrees to unlock it. I sat on the curb for 5 minutes trying to make it work to no avail. Due to my time constraints, I was forced to admit defeat and head home. The following day I took it to campus security where I originally got it and asked them for help. They directed me to the website of the manufacturer and said I need to sort out a refund/repair with them. At the time of writing, the lock has yet to be fixed.
All of these things happened within a 24 hour period but despite all of my misfortunes, I ended up having a marvelous day.
Life is good.
THE CAR:
Nearing the fork to go to the bridge to Key Biscayne, traffic suddenly seized up and became as thick as it was during the Sony Ericsson Open a few weeks ago. As I was stopped in the thick of it, my car suddenly jolted forward. Looking to make sure I hadn't stalled, I checked my rear view window and much to my dismay I saw a white Plymouth Neon too close for comfort. I turned on my hazards, checked for passing cars, got out and motioned the car to follow me. I led them to a private drive a dozen yards ahead, took down the driver's information, and turned to get back to my car. Before I could make it there, the passenger called out to me and asked me for directions to the beach. Classic. (Yes, I provided directions.)
THE FISH:
Arriving late (well, because it's Miami I was still one of the first ones there) to the dive, I started setting up my gear. Our instructor told us that instead of the regularly scheduled dive, we would be doing a “species eradication” dive. You see, lionfish are not endemic to Florida or anywhere in the Caribbean; they belong in the Pacific. They are an invasive species that have done nothing but ravage the reefs since they first arrived. We were given a crash course on spearfishing and before we knew it were in the water making our descents. After passing the second piling I looked back to see one of my buddies flailing her arms around. In less than 5 minutes, she found 3 lionfish together. Excited, I turned and followed her extended finger directly to their position. I cocked the spear, came in close to the largest fish, and released it. Although it was a direct hit, the tips were too blunt to puncture the skin. The two larger fish immediately bolted but the smaller remained in place so I tried again with the same result. To make a long story slightly less long, we saw about 8 lionfish before we (Heather) successfully speared one without it swimming free.
The idea is that once you spear the fish, the proper technique on this dive was to kill it with a knife through the head so naturally I offered the knife to Heather who shook her head at me. I shrugged and took the spear and fish down to the bottom a few feet below to give myself an operating surface. I positioned the knife and then pushed inward. Perhaps it was a lack of experience that did me in but since the fish was not secured very well, there was some movement as the knife pushed on one end and ultimately it moved when I went in for the kill. This alone wouldn't have been an issue if it were not for the fact that lionfish have conspicuous higly poisonous spikes all over their bodies. One of these spikes managed to pierce my work glove and prick my right index finger. I timidly stopped what I was doing, recoiled in super slow motion, dropped the knife which slowly sank to the sand, hesitated, slowly turned to my buddies, and then back to my hand. I cautiously removed the glove and when I pinched my skin, my fears were confirmed in the form of a tiny drop of blood.
I had been stung by a lionfish.
I slowly turned back to my buddies and when one asked if I was okay I shook my head and signaled to ascend. Rick pulled me aside before the dive and told me that he was putting me in charge of divers and wanted to make sure I understood all the safety measures of the dive. I made the difficult decision to end the dive for all 4 of us based on the “better safe than sorry” mentality though I really wanted to send them back down.
 |
| Here is the culprit, dead but still dangerous. Photo: A. Porter |
THE FALL:
Our team bagged the largest lionfish out of the bunch but unfortunately it was the only one with which we surfaced. We cleaned our gear and decided as a group to go to the dock and have some fun jumping off and swimming. Plenty of time and jumps, leaps, flips, spins, dives, and splashes later, we were all nearing the end of our swim session. I took a final dive into the water about 10 feet below and started swimming toward a nearby rope to hold on and rest in the current. Before I could reach the rope however, a jarring pain shot through my leg. I was stunned motionless for a few seconds but as I slowly came to my senses I pieced together that someone had just landed on me. Adding in what others said, I deduced that one of my classmates was pushed from the dock by another and landed knee-first on the side/back of my left thigh. Considering how it happened though, a lot went right: first of all she is the smallest one in our class and furthermore she landed on the strongest most durable part of my body. Had she landed on my back, neck, head, chest, hip, stomach, or any joint at all, it would have been a different story. Sure my leg was terribly sore for the following 3 days, but these things happen.
THE BAR:
Instead of quitting while ahead that night, I thought it would be safe to go out to chill with the same people at a bar in Coral Gables that had live music. I didn't end up ordering anything the whole night (true to form), but within the first 2 minutes of walking through the door, one of my classmates had her beer on a wobbly table and ended up spilling most of it on me. At that point I just laughed because really, what more could happen?
THE KEY:
I managed to make it out the rest of the night unscathed but had the need to quickly make the half-mile trip to the post office the following morning. I left myself enough time to go there by bike and rode straight to the closest bike rack. When I went to open my lock in order to place it on my bike, the key became stuck. It would turn 90 degrees but would not pull out or turn the rest of the 90 degrees to unlock it. I sat on the curb for 5 minutes trying to make it work to no avail. Due to my time constraints, I was forced to admit defeat and head home. The following day I took it to campus security where I originally got it and asked them for help. They directed me to the website of the manufacturer and said I need to sort out a refund/repair with them. At the time of writing, the lock has yet to be fixed.
All of these things happened within a 24 hour period but despite all of my misfortunes, I ended up having a marvelous day.
Life is good.
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