September 13, 1990 - Diving Into the Block Island BlueC10 The Suffolk Times • September 13, 1990
Diving Into the Block Island Blue
By Paul Stoutenburah
My son called and asked if I wanted to
go along on a diving trip to Block Is-
land. A good friend had invited both my
boys to go and there was room for an-
other. Needless to say, I jumped at the
opportunity. I'm not as agile as they
but in the water I seem to be rejuve-
nated, and so I looked forward to his
picking me up the next morning at
3:30.
By 4 a.m. we were at Tim's yard
loading the gear into his boat that
would be trailered to the launching site.
Flashlights made sure everything was
aboard and we were soon rumbling
down the road while most holiday
visitors lay fast asleep.
In no time the boat was launched, the
motor coughed a few times but soon
purred and we headed into the darkness.
The spotlight picked up our buoy and a
course was set for Block. The stars
sprinkled above in their familiar pat-
terns. Orion's belt hung high above and
the Pleiades cluster could easily be seen
in its miniature dipper shape.
We were not alone for I could see the
steady red and green port and starboard
lights of other boats here and there on
the horizon. An occasional sailboat
would drift by like some ghost ship ap-
pearing suddenly and then disappearing
over our stern as we sped steadily east-
ward. This is what I'd come for. The
spinoffs of the trip. The moon set long
before we started letting blackness rule
our way. About five, there was a hint of
light in the far eastern heaven. Our
southwest breeze had put a chop to the
sea.
Focus on
Nature
The Sun Takes Over
Now a trace of pink replaced the
touch of light I'd seen. Stars seemed to
fade. The weaker ones, as in true life,
went first. The stronger ones held out.
Far to the northeast the blinking ruby
eye of Race Light off Fishers Island told
of dangers there. To our starboard was
the comforting, always - present, white
flashing light of Montauk. On w e
charged. Now the upper clouds turned to
a yellow -pink. The sun was taking over
the darkness. Dawn was breaking. We
had planned to be at Block Island around
sunrise and we were right on schedule.
We started to see more and more
sports fishing boats heading south, their
destination the shark and tuna waters off
Montauk. We were approaching Block
Island. The outline of the bluffs could
be seen and the silhouette of houses
along its rim looked down on us.
Menacing rocks created great plumes
of spray as the exploding surf drove
down upon them. We were in an odd
sea, a combination of cross chop that
floated upon great swells of the ocean.
These swells would later dampen our
diving ability.
We traveled north past New Harbor
that slept with its multitude of visiting
craft. Our destination was the long sand
bar that stretches out into the sea at the
north end of the island. It was here
Tim wanted to check for stripers. In no
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Piping Hot Steamers (with broth served with drawn butler).......:5.95
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Noon -6 p.m.
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Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
GREY TRIGGERFISH— These armor- plated fish are found mostly in
the tropics around rocks and coral. Occasionally they wander into our
waters, such as this one taken off Block Island.
time he had his gear on and was dropped
overboard, where he disappeared into the
still dark waters of morning.
Down he went as we drifted and
waited for him to signal "Pick up."
He'd see stripers but none of any legal
size for taking. Soon we were off to
explore the eastern side of this vacation
island. It was here amongst the rocks
that we found the effects of the swells
in the surf that crashed about. The water
was too churned up, making visibility
poor. We'd try another location.
We stopped in at the Old Harbor on
the east side, where boats were rafted to
take advantage of every bit of mooring
area. It's a small harbor so the overflow
had to hang off outside, but in those
sleepy hours of morning it didn't seem
to matter to anyone. We looked around
and tried other spots here and there
along the east side. Again, our efforts
were thwarted by the cloudy water.
Lighthouse Stands Guard
Along the south shore we looked up a
the famous lighthouse that acts as a
tourist attraction because it sits on the
highest elevation of the island. Below it
were clay stalagmite -type cliffs giving
the area a weird but wonderful look.
We'd keep going and start again along
the west shore where darkness prevented
us from exploring earlier.
Now the sun was bright and as we
searched the waters our eyes caught
sight of a school of greyfish below. In
no time, like the characters in Jacques
Cousteau's films, we were overboard.
The bottom was sand - rippled with
clumps of growth swaying in the tide.
Rocks were scattered here and there and
strewn with colorful growth, always an
interesting spot to search around. A nice
size blackfish slipped past my aim and
went free to munch on barnacles and
other crustaceans.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the
light - colored forms milling about to my
left. I swung around and headed for
them. It was a school of triggerfish, a
fish mostly found in the tropics but
nevertheless an occasional visitor to our
waters. They look like big porgies.
They get their name from the fact that
the fish, when threatened, will make
rigid the first spine of the dorsal fin,
which is then locked into this position
until released by the second spine.
Thus, the trigger name.
Most members of this family are col-
orful. The ones we see are grey in color,
giving them the common name of grey
triggerfish. I took one for a specimen
and photo. When I cleaned the fish back
home I found out why they were shaped
the way they were and why they had
such powerful front teeth. They were
feeding on baby mussels, which they
had ripped out of the beds.
Now blackfish were coming aboard.
These would be skinned and filleted be-
cause they make good eating. Time out
for lunch and back to our diving. The
afternoon under the bright sun went on
until our watches told us we'd better
head back. We'd stop at two or three
spots on the way to pick up some nice
flounder to add to our catch.
It was a wonderful way to end the
summer season. No one could complain
about the perfect weather. I'd spent the
day with my sons and a good friend out
on the water. We'd gotten some fish for
supper. We had lots of fresh air and
bright sun. What more could you ask?
Bedtime came early that night. The
last thing I remember was thinking how
fortunate we are to live out here on
the East End where the world still
sparkles for those who go out and seek
it.
(�76 T Complanuln
awoi4 for &C ri3wff
North Road, Southold, 765 -5872
Open Friday, Saturday and Sunday
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