After disassembly and inspection, the culprit was identified. The small, life-giving piece of rubber that sealed the yoke of the regulator against the air cylinder was bust. I’m not sure how I fixed it. I didn’t have a spare, so probably spit and duct tape, but it stayed put for the dive. Additionally my friend discovered that a friend he had loaned his tanks to hadn’t return the DIN\/Yoke adapter2<\/a><\/sup> for one of the tanks. We were good for the dive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There was still some daylight left, so we went for a second, except we had to stop by the dive shop for some spare O-rings and a new din\/yoke adapter and\/or tank refill, depending on the availability of the latter. We swung by Undersea Divers in Danvers (Cannot recommend these guys enough, they have a great shop) and got my friend a fill, while I got a keychain O-ring holder with assorted o-rings that I carry with me to this day. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Next, we made our way to another dive spot which I will refer to as [REDACTED] to preserve my friend’s sacred lobstering location. We got ourselves set up and this time, the O-ring finally gave up the ghost, so I swapped it out with a new one. It took a few tries to get it seated correctly, and each time I was met with a hiss was discouraging, but once we got it set, we made a shore entry and found ourselves some lobster3<\/a><\/sup>. We surfaced to a gorgeous sunset on the point where the land met the water and enjoyed a snack and a refreshing drink while we watched the dusk roll in. And somehow that drive back was even more special than the drive out4<\/a><\/sup>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n As I was driving a few days later to return the diving gear, navigating that same rush our traffic, alone this time, and experiencing it as a lot less meaning full this time, I finally learned the lesson: “I’m just gonna buy my own gear”. The rented stuff had crapped out on me twice, plus there was the added hassle of reserving it, picking it up, cleaning it and returning it another day. Not to mention the fact that if I rented gear for $100 each time, I could just buy $1000 worth of gear after ten dives. I would be a fool not to! A few weeks later and $1500 lighter, I finally had my own gear. And I am happy I did. Renting is a great option. But owning the gear removes a layer of friction and elements out of one’s control. When renting gear, a single dive becomes a multi-day affair and I am much less likely to follow through on it. Now, I can basically grab and go. Then there is the matter of maintenance. Now, if something isn’t right, I have no one to blame but myself. And I have even more reason to treat my gear correctly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Anyways, on to the story I actually wanted to tell.. The first dive – at [REDACTED] was great. The swell wasn’t bad and the visibility had cleared up as the water got colder. It was a bit chilly towards the end, but it was tolerable. Now we had a choice to make. The sun was setting and we each still had a bottle ready to go. Folly Cove6<\/a><\/sup> was not far and I had never done it. (Diving it, and also denouncing its crowdedness is a must for any self-respecting New England diver). This late in the season, it would probably be empty, plus there were probably a ton of lobster there. So Folly Cove it was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n While the chilly water was tolerable, the prospect of changing out of our wetsuits to drive a few minutes and then change back into them, which would have by then become cool and clamy7<\/a><\/sup> was not. So we drove to the spot in wet suits, where I dropped off my friend and our gear, then drove on to the next parking area to ensure my car wouldn’t fall vicim to the hungriest sharks of Gloucester – the tow trucks. And then ran the 500 m back to the beach. By now dusk was settling in and it was clear that we would not get out of the water before dark. Bu – just my luck – I had gotten a dive light! I also decided to strap on the “new” dive knife that I got, for good measure. Maybe I’d have to fight an underwater tow truck driver8<\/a><\/sup>…<\/p>\n\n\n\n Darkness settled in as we explored the rocks and looked for bugs, and wow there were so many. Most of them were much too young for any catching, but they were cute to look at. The beam of my light illuminated the water in the same satisfying way as a fog in a forest and the way the particles passed through the beam reminded me of the videos of the Titanic being explored by submersibles that I had obsessively watched as a child.9<\/a><\/sup> Even more impressive was the darkness when I briefly switched the light off. The cool water had a way of giving substance to the darkness that air just cannot approach. Towards the end of the dive we made our way back to the beach and saw that some other divers had also decided to get in a late season night dive. I guess the thing about Folly Cove being popular is true. I also discovered, much to my dismay, that the cool new knife was gone, only the defective holster still clung onto my calf. Maybe those other divers ended up finding it. A more eloquent philosopher than myself could use this as a lesson to say that if you use crappy means of attaching yourself to things you like, you’ll lose the good stuff and only be left with the crappy stuff, but I’d like to think that my decision to buy a dive light that day allowed me to experience my first night dive. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The drive home was profound as few drives in my life have been, and my life is richer for having experienced all of the ups and downs that made those little day trips so special. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I have since found myself in another big life transition with another geographical change, which means that such trips will be few and far between for the foreseeable future. Some days I lament having had and lost moments that are special to me and most I am grateful for experiencing them in the first place. But as I’ve learned, life has a funny way of leading you down a path that just that morning looked like a dead end, and turns out to be filled with experiences you didn’t even dream of when you got out of bed. (The following weekend, for example, when I would go looking for a wreck in lake Champlain, for example, but that is a story for another day)<\/p>\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The transition from one stage of life to another is not easy, especially when it includes a geographical transition as well. And so the transition from undergrad in Vermont, to grad school in Massachusetts brought with it some challenges. Luckily, … Continue reading
Fast forward to the beginning of October 2024. The end of the New England Dive season was upon us, but we wanted to squeeze out just one more dive before switching to cold-weather activities. This time, we stopped at Undersea Divers before the first dive. We got tanks filled and I meandered over to the cheap used gear table5<\/a><\/sup>. I saw a nice dive knife with a crappy holster for 25 bucks. “What the hell, I’ll grab it. And while I’m here, I’ll get a dive light too. Batteries included – steal!” And that’s how the cookie crumbles. Needless to say I wouldn’t be using my wallet on my weight belt that day. <\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/onthebum.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/night_dive-1024x768.jpg\")