Post by Kelly Jessop on Jun 26, 2008 19:22:34 GMT -5
www.miamiherald.com/627/story/583576.html
Little Devil Spring unusual but fun for divers
The dazzling, exotic Little Devil Spring is not your usual kind of dive
Posted on Thu, Jun. 26, 2008reprint print email
HIGH SPRINGS -- Stepping into Little Devil Spring represents both a sensory and culture shock for the average South Florida scuba diver: sensory -- because the water is nearly always clear and nearly always a chilly 72 degrees or thereabouts, and the fish species are different.
And culture? Let's see -- no boats, no salt spray, no waves and an excellent chance of encountering a cave diver laden with enough gear to establish an outpost on the moon. In other words: exotic, unfamiliar and fun.
At the popular Ginnie Springs Outdoors park, I was able to -- literally -- drop in on four of the park's seven springs and explore 1,000 feet of the adjacent Santa Fe River -- all in a single-tank drift dive recently.
Divemaster Jason Pecknold -- a former Miamian -- guided underwater photographer Maggie Martorell and me on a tour of one of the major sources of North Florida's drinking water supply.
Every day, as much as
80 million gallons of fresh water bubble up from beneath the earth's surface through Little Devil, Devil's Eye and Devil's Ear springs.
The flow is so strong out of the constricted, dungeon-like entrance to the Ear that it can push an unwary diver backward or cause a regulator to free-flow. At nearby Ginnie Spring, another
35 million gallons spew up every day through the bars erected to block the entrance to the narrow cave opening. Our object was to experience all these spring flows directly in our faces.
We got into the water at Little Devil, briefly examined its limestone walls, then kicked over to the adjacent, round Eye.
The water is so clear that you can drop well below the surface and look up to identify individual leaves on overhanging trees.
Diving 20 feet deep at the Ear, I could feel the strength of the spring boil below me. As I watched, a beam of light emerged from the darkness of the cave, quickly followed by the black-drysuit-clad body of a diver wearing three tanks. We waved to one another. Then the diver paused on a sunken log, ostensibly to do a decompression or safety stop.
There are times when you can look up from Devil's Ear and see a psychedelic rainbow created by sunlight penetrating the mixing of the Santa Fe's tannic waters with the clear spring flow, but it didn't happen during our dive. We continued into the river, where the water was warmer and darker, but still had 50-foot visibility.
With Pecknold brandishing a dive flag to ward off possible boaters, we drifted languidly with the river current. We passed lush, silver-green ribbons of grass, numerous mild-mannered mullet and carp nibbling on algae coating the river bottom, as well as a couple of slider turtles and scary-looking gar.
At some point, Pecknold directed us to make a left turn into the entrance to Ginnie Spring -- a large, transparent, round bowl where the water is so clear that it seems as if it isn't there.
A guideline runs from the bowl down into the semi-darkness of a limestone-lined amphitheater to the barred cave entrance. We swam down, pointed ourselves into the rushing flow and turned back toward daylight.
It's a sight that will make your breath catch in your regulator. Smooth, gray-shadowed boulders piled in front of you in the dark set against shards of dazzling light in the bowl outside.
Spectacular.
Emerging from the cavern, we lingered in the bowl for a while -- until our traveling companions started tapping at their watches.
I looked at my gauge and realized I had just about enough air to do the entire circuit again.
It was tempting.
Very tempting.
Little Devil Spring unusual but fun for divers
The dazzling, exotic Little Devil Spring is not your usual kind of dive
Posted on Thu, Jun. 26, 2008reprint print email
HIGH SPRINGS -- Stepping into Little Devil Spring represents both a sensory and culture shock for the average South Florida scuba diver: sensory -- because the water is nearly always clear and nearly always a chilly 72 degrees or thereabouts, and the fish species are different.
And culture? Let's see -- no boats, no salt spray, no waves and an excellent chance of encountering a cave diver laden with enough gear to establish an outpost on the moon. In other words: exotic, unfamiliar and fun.
At the popular Ginnie Springs Outdoors park, I was able to -- literally -- drop in on four of the park's seven springs and explore 1,000 feet of the adjacent Santa Fe River -- all in a single-tank drift dive recently.
Divemaster Jason Pecknold -- a former Miamian -- guided underwater photographer Maggie Martorell and me on a tour of one of the major sources of North Florida's drinking water supply.
Every day, as much as
80 million gallons of fresh water bubble up from beneath the earth's surface through Little Devil, Devil's Eye and Devil's Ear springs.
The flow is so strong out of the constricted, dungeon-like entrance to the Ear that it can push an unwary diver backward or cause a regulator to free-flow. At nearby Ginnie Spring, another
35 million gallons spew up every day through the bars erected to block the entrance to the narrow cave opening. Our object was to experience all these spring flows directly in our faces.
We got into the water at Little Devil, briefly examined its limestone walls, then kicked over to the adjacent, round Eye.
The water is so clear that you can drop well below the surface and look up to identify individual leaves on overhanging trees.
Diving 20 feet deep at the Ear, I could feel the strength of the spring boil below me. As I watched, a beam of light emerged from the darkness of the cave, quickly followed by the black-drysuit-clad body of a diver wearing three tanks. We waved to one another. Then the diver paused on a sunken log, ostensibly to do a decompression or safety stop.
There are times when you can look up from Devil's Ear and see a psychedelic rainbow created by sunlight penetrating the mixing of the Santa Fe's tannic waters with the clear spring flow, but it didn't happen during our dive. We continued into the river, where the water was warmer and darker, but still had 50-foot visibility.
With Pecknold brandishing a dive flag to ward off possible boaters, we drifted languidly with the river current. We passed lush, silver-green ribbons of grass, numerous mild-mannered mullet and carp nibbling on algae coating the river bottom, as well as a couple of slider turtles and scary-looking gar.
At some point, Pecknold directed us to make a left turn into the entrance to Ginnie Spring -- a large, transparent, round bowl where the water is so clear that it seems as if it isn't there.
A guideline runs from the bowl down into the semi-darkness of a limestone-lined amphitheater to the barred cave entrance. We swam down, pointed ourselves into the rushing flow and turned back toward daylight.
It's a sight that will make your breath catch in your regulator. Smooth, gray-shadowed boulders piled in front of you in the dark set against shards of dazzling light in the bowl outside.
Spectacular.
Emerging from the cavern, we lingered in the bowl for a while -- until our traveling companions started tapping at their watches.
I looked at my gauge and realized I had just about enough air to do the entire circuit again.
It was tempting.
Very tempting.