The City of Alexandria's Court Service Unit is seeking "a few good men" to serve as mentors to pre-teen boys. No movie-making or mentoring experience is needed. A Mentor Orientation meeting will be held on Tuesday, February 23 at the George Washington Middle School in Alexandria, VA.


Over the course of the year, I will be teaching mentors and boys how to shoot, edit and produce short movies using Apple's iMovie software. This program is a fantastic way to both connect with your community and help a few bright young men discover their inner Steven Spielberg!


If you need a little cinematic inspiration, check out the vids below. Then Click here for more information, or contact me or Linda Odell at the Court Services Unit.

Below is a short video I shot last Friday following a maintenance/cleaning dive in the Atlantic Coral Reef exhibit at the National Aquarium:

Recently I took a week-long dive trip to Grand Bahama Island with my girls. While they made sand castles and lounged on the beach, I took advantage of two tanks a day, in 6 or 8 different spots along the reef. The diving off Grand Bahama is gorgeous. I imagine that the economic hit the Caribbean has taken since the hurricanes of '04 and '05 has probably provided some welcome relief for the coral reef in that area.


From the unique perspective of a dive boat half a mile offshore, you really get a feel for the slump in tourism that has come as a result of natural disaster and a global economic downturn. Incomplete construction projects dot the beach, where new tourist ventures seem to have been halted in mid-development. And where there is life on the sand, the industry is clearly not flourishing as it once was.


Cynical though it may sound, this is all good news for the tourist who prefers to avoid the crowd, and see the wildlife unspoilt.

Below is a video I shot from one of the last dives, "Shark Alley." These Caribbean Reef Sharks are actually on their way to meet another group of divers that offers them food in exchange for photo ops. We just intercepted them along the way.




Special thanks to Aquatic Adventures of Alexandria, Virginia and the crew at Viva! Diving in Port Lucaya, Grand Bahama.

all photos © Jeff Nesmith

Volunteer divers at the National Aquarium perform a number of different tasks, both in the water and dry. On each of the four daily dives, the volunteers’ roles are divided up by the team captain depending on how many divers are there on a given day and what special needs the exhibits might have. There is always a “tender” who stays dry for at least two dives. (Since divers generally go straight to the Atlantic Coral Reef exhibit after finishing the Wings in the Water feeding, the same person will remain topside for both.) This person is the safety watch during the dive, and is responsible for calling the divers in, whether for emergency or non-emergency reasons. The dive tender usually brings the animals’ food from the prep room to the exhibits, maintains a safe, dry(ish) platform, interacts with visitors, and gives the topside presentation at Wings in the Water while the divers are entering the exhibit. The position is rotated every week, again depending on the needs of the team members and the Aquarium.

Wings in the Water:

In Wings in the Water, the divers themselves have different feeding responsibilities. Usually one or two divers will handle the “general feed.” This means taking a bucket with assorted squid, smelt, shrimp, etc. into the water to feed the cownose rays, smaller Southern stingrays and the large tarpon.

The “target feeder” will usually concentrate on the larger Southern stingrays, the roughtail rays, the pelagic ray and the butterfly ray. These animals tend to be a little pickier, and need to be fed more deliberately so they don’t lose out to the more assertive cownose rays—for a visual, imagine trying to feed a litter of 20 puppies from a small bag of chow… now do that in scuba gear.

The bullnose rays tend to eat like models and, in my short experience, really only go for shrimp. A single diver handles this feeding. One technique that seems to work with the bullnose rays is to remain motionless near the well of the exhibit and hold the food close to the floor and wait for them to come by. Plans to cover the top of this well are currently underway.

And then there’s Calypso. Calypso is the green sea turtle that lives in the Wings in the Water exhibit. She’s on a vegetarian diet of cauliflower, Romaine lettuce, brussel sprouts and other assorted salads. Another diver stays with Calypso, feeding her (very carefully) by hand, and trying to keep her from wandering off.

The ACR:

There is no less division of duties in the Atlantic Coral Reef exhibit. Here, two divers usually split the role of feeding Oscar and Felix, the green moray eels. These guys are big, and have the jaw power to deliver what my team captain described to me as a “career-ending” bite. So generally, one diver will scout out the eel with a flashlight (the morays tend to hide out in crevices in the reef) and the other will follow with a bag of squid and fish and a long pole from which the food is offered. You can never tell with these guys; sometimes they’re friendly and curious, and sometimes they just want to be left alone.

There is, of course, general feeding too. The larger reef fish are fed from buckets and the smaller fish eat a pureed mixture from squirt bottles. There are a few targeted fish as well. The porcupine fish eat from a separate bag of shrimp and shellfish. Another diver will be responsible for feeding the two stingrays that live in the ACR. The feeding technique is generally the same as in Wings in the Water, although these animals tend to stick to a smaller area in the tank.

Both of these exhibits require regular maintenance from time to time. Divers are often asked to take suction cups, scrub brushes and rags to clean the reef or the glass. Scooping gravel away from the filters in the well of Wings in the Water is a constant need.

Of course, one of the main responsibilities of the volunteer divers is to interact with and entertain the visitors on the other side of the glass. I’ve noticed that—at least with my dive crew—this is something that can be expected without asking.

all photos © Jeff Nesmith

Cool Washington Post Article here!

As many of you might know, in addition to print and multimedia design, one of the fields that I’ve been pursuing since art school is film & video. Through Gypsy and with The Nature Conservancy, I get to work on all kinds of video projects, in all different phases: shooting, editing, composing original music and doing voice overs.

What many of you may not know is that I also teach a video class at my old alma mater, the George Washington Junior High School in Alexandria. The program—iMovie Mentors—was set up through the Alexandria Courts system and funded by a grant from the City of Alexandria. It is a mentorship for at-risk, minority and immigrant boys in sixth and seventh grades. The kids are paired up with an adult mentor from Alexandria and the two work over the course of the year shooting and editing a short film based on life around town.

(Note: the Washington Post article mentions me as one of the mentors, but I should point out that I'm not. I’m just the guy who teaches the after-school video class each week.)

These are some of the brightest and most creative kids I’ve ever seen. They dive right in to everything they do and they are incredibly fast learners. The mentors in the program are equally enthusiastic, and I have a great deal of admiration for their dedication and civic pride. I can’t imagine working with any program or group of people that could make me prouder to be an Alexandrian. As I’ve told many people: no matter how bad a day I might have had, leaving that class each week never fails to clear up my perspective and inspire a fresh breath of creativity in me. It really is an honor.

Thanks to Director Linda Odell, Mentor Alexey Tolchinsky, and student Anthony Wright, iMovie Mentors just got some well-deserved press. Check out Sunday’s Washington Post article here, along with the cool photo gallery from our weekend trip to Police Camp. This is great exposure for a great group of kids, a great group of mentors and a great program! Go iMovie Mentors!

photos © Alexey Tolchinsky, Anthony Wright

I’ve dived 6 times now with the Friday A Team. That’s one full day of four dives, and the first as a half day, since I couldn't get my physical docs’ faxed over in time to the DSO. I am currently logging all these dives, because I’m working toward my Master Scuba Diver rating, so I need documentation of them all. In doing so, I’m noticing how different they are, compared to previous log entries.

I have yet to master buoyancy in these tanks. It’s not like open water diving. Shallow water is hard to establish neutral buoyancy within, because while you don’t want to drag along the bottom, you can so easily shoot to the top. You are dealing with less than 1 atm of pressure change, so finding the sweet spot of weight to air in the BC at such tiny increments is a challenge. Your wetsuit, weights, and lungs make have a much more direct affect on your position at 10-12 feet below sea level than they would at 50-52 feet, in terms of buoyancy compensation.

A seasoned diver on my team puts it like this: “Overweighted is bad, underweighted is a sin.” Although he recommends not putting too much stock in the issue—the sweet spot will appear and the aha moment will happen; don’t let it distract you too much.

Your buoyancy control is crucial. Probably moreso than on a recreational dive, since you have a job to do.

Santa Catalina Island, off the coast of Southern California, is where I first took to the water in scuba gear over ten years ago. It's also where last weekend, I had the pleasure of revisiting Casino Point, a small marine preserve off the north shore of Avalon...

For the nondiver, a "kelp bed" may not sound like the most inviting place. Kelp is known for tangling swimmers and props, the word itself is about as euphonious as "seaweed" or "krill." But under the surface, kelp forests are some of the most magical environments available to human exploration.

The fairy tale visuals there are like nowhere else I've dived. These are the kind of descents during which you have to frequently check yourself to make sure you're not getting "narked" (nitrogen narcosis is the euphoric state divers sometimes enter when breathing nitrogen at pressure.) In this case, that dreamlike sensation is pure wonderment, to be expected and enjoyed.

Thursday—my friend Phil and I land at LAX around 10am and immediately set to renting a car and making the 30-40 minute drive down to San Pedro, an industrial town on the LA Harbor and one of three ports with regular departures to Catalina. Because we've missed the last ferry, we take a small helicopter over to the island; a wonderful—if short—15-minute flight.

Thankfully, although it is cool and overcast on the mainland, Catalina is as clear and warm as a spring day in the Caribbean.

While Phil explores the island on a rented bike, I hook up with the ScubaLuv dive shop. There I'm partnered with Tim Mitchell, a Master Diver Trainer and Instructor, as well as photographer and videographer. Tim is originally from New Zealand, but the last several years in California are quickly wearing away at his Kiwi accent. He will guide me on two shore dives at opposite ends of Casino Point—the first to just deeper than 80 feet and the second just over 40. The visibility is 30-40 feet and the surface temps hover around 69 F.

To me that's cold water. True, I learned to dive in that water and I pursued my advanced training in the much colder, darker, damnable waters of Virginia quarries. But following that, I spent years diving the tropical Indian Ocean off eastern Africa, and every two weeks now I dive the National Aquarium, where the water is at least mid-70s. Admittedly, I am spoiled. Not used to wearing a 7mm wetsuit. Damn sure not used to wearing a hood. I'm glad I brought one though.

Tim makes for a great dive buddy—laid back, enthusiastic, and knowledgeable of the area. It's clear that he does this out of a genuine love for the marine world and you get the feeling he'd go back ten more times in a day if given the opportunity.

On both dives, I am treated to a sheep crab—the largest of the California spider crabs—that look to be about a foot and a half in diameter. Garibaldi abound, as well as thick schools of silvery jack mackerel, perch, sea stars, urchins, and vivid nudibranchs in purple and orange. I keep an eager eye out for barracuda and leopard sharks, but unfortunately none of those cross our path.

The most striking attraction in those waters, though, is the aforementioned kelp. This is the kind of environment that I can hardly wait to show my 22-month old daughter—once she's old enough to dive, but not too old to appreciate swimming through magical, underwater forests.

The kelp grows vertically, at up to two feet per day. In places it's as thick as an oak, and it varies in density and visible color depending on depth.

In fact, the shallows (within 30 feet) might provide the most magnificent view at Casino Point, where the light is least diffused and the colors of the kelp trees are most vivid. It's also where the currents are most dynamic and the rhythmic, unified swaying of the animal life and vegetation is nothing short of musical.

I feel like the child hero in a Jim Henson film, wide-eyed and brave, pushing the bizarre orange and green branches aside to explore each next opening in the seabed. Strange marine creatures—for years now accustomed to divers—approach me confidently, putting on their little circus for another alien in bulky, black, bubbly dive gear.

In the shallows, the sun cuts through the water in distinct shafts of light, broken up only by the dancing orange treetops and undulating surface of the water. All of this is so naturally, perfectly choreographed to result in a dazzling show that I won't soon forget.


Sadly, I have to call the second dive a little short. I'm too cold. I signal to Tim, we ascend and throw our gear into his truck—me shivering and hating myself for being so spoiled. My hands and feet don't return to normal warmth until hours after the dive, when Phil and I are already on the boat headed back to mainland California (me still hating myself for being spoiled.)

Diving Catalina is more than just a fun way to kick off a weekend trip to L.A. It is every bit worth the chilly water. Wear a hood. And I'd suggest wearing gloves if you've got them, though Tim might tell you I'm a prima donna.

This is a prime dive destination in my book; the kind of experience that sticks with you long after you've left the water.

Completing the classroom training, thankfully, was not a prerequisite to being assigned to a dive team. I have been going in to NAIB to work with the Friday A Dive Team for the last month or so. The first couple of days (a month for dive volunteers) have been “dry days.” That means shadowing the diver who's been assigned topside narration at the Ray Tray (aka: “Wings in the Water” exhibit with the rays, sharks, tarpon and turtle) and who is the safety monitor on the platform in both exhibits.

After a couple of those, a diver would normally begin his or her “wet days.” In my case, the comprehensive physical exam required by the Dive Safety Officers (DSOs) held me up a bit. This is not your everyday physical exam. In addition to the standard tests for vision, hearing, urinalysis, blood work, etc; divers in training are required to take an EKG, a Pulmonary Function Test and get a chest X-Ray. These results are required by the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA), so if you do this, don’t just have the results sent to your primary care physician for a sign-off—get copies and bring them in.

I am happy to say that my lungs are long enough to require two X-rays, top to bottom. And I have the lung capacity and oxygen metabolism of a teenager who’s never smoked! That was big news for me, since I recently quit smoking after about 20 years. I never smoked all that much, and I’ve always kept in relatively decent shape, but nonetheless, this was a surprise… So in the last year or so, I’ve lost over 20 lbs., quit smoking, and gotten the most comprehensive physical of my life with the best results. Yay me. Makes me want to start smoking again and introduce more pizza and Scotch into my diet.

Anyway, remember that all of the physical results need to get to the DSOs in order to get wet. It’s hard enough to arrange for all the tests (did the EKG at my pcp, the chest X-ray at a med center in Alexandria, the PFT at Arlington hospital—scheduling everything was a mild little nightmare.) Once all the results were faxed in to my physician, she signed off on all the forms I was given by NAIB. But OSHA requires all the actual results as well, and understandably so. And until they have everything, you’re dry. Not having absolutely all the paperwork with the DSO cost me my first two dives with the team.

all photos © Jeff Nesmith

First off, my apologies for having taken so long to post about my NAIB aquarium diving gig. That’s doesn’t reflect a lack for news, nor is it how I intend to keep this blog. It’s just been an eventful few months. So thanks for your patience. At this point, I’m still in the training phase. I thought I was done with all the studying, but man, was I wrong.

After accepting the invitation to join the team at the National Aquarium, new volunteers are faced with a series of classroom lectures. In the past, these lectures were administered over a couple weekends at an off-site facility. This year, to save money they moved the classes to the Aquarium. That meant doing them after-hours, which meant me driving up to Baltimore on several weeknights to hear the lectures. Usually right around the time when the beltway shuts down completely.

So admittedly, I missed one or two. In all, the courses were:

1. NAIB Orientation, tour of the aquarium
2. Rainforest exhibit, “Interpretation I”
3. Australia exhibit, “Interpretation II”
4. NAIB Safety and Security, “Interpretation III”
5. Sharks and bony fish, the Chesapeake Bay
6. Coral reefs, jellies
7. Final test

I could be mistaken on the order or specifics. Basically, this was a series of lectures given by curators and scientists particular to each area, with the goal of providing new volunteers with a general understanding of the major exhibits at the Aquarium. The “Interpretation” sections were lighthearted, practical lessons in interacting with visitors and optimizing the experience for guests. I should point out that these sessions were not exclusively for scuba divers; in fact, the majority of volunteers attending were aquarists’ assistants and those working the floor.

The lectures were all very good. I enjoyed them and thought that I got a lot out of them. However, on the final test I blew it. It was awful. I think I got a 76% (which was about a “D” or so when I was in school.) The material was way above my pay grade so hopefully it won’t affect my work in the tanks, and maybe over time I’ll learn more about the areas in the Aquarium where there is no diving. (For example, I know for a fact that I got one or two questions wrong about the Kookaburra. I’m not sure I know what a Kookaburra is, and I definitely couldn’t tell you why he is kept away from other animals like him—reptiles, frogs, birds? ...don’t know.) I think this was the only exam in which your final score was not used as a determining factor in your position—unless perhaps you just flunked altogether—but more of an analysis as to where each volunteer needs work moving forward.

But it’s over now. No longer do I have to battle the traffic to Baltimore on a Tuesday at 5:30pm, while Tara struggles with a grumpy baby on her own. No more getting lost in Scaggsville, MD (which, believe it or not, I should know my way around) looking for gas stations in the middle of the night.

Now I can put that damn test behind me and get to studying up on the lonely Kookaburra.

all photos © Jeff Nesmith

After completing a series of written tests, in-water skills tests, and interviews, I found out last month that I was accepted to join the volunteer scuba diving team at the National Aquarium in Baltimore.



This is a group of very dedicated volunteers (some volunteers have dived the Aquarium for up to 29 years!) that boast a high degree of diving expertise and a deep commitment to the marine conservation work being done at the Aquarium. I'm proud and excited to join the team—to get to know the volunteers, veterinarians, aquarists, marine biologists, educators, and sealife at NAIB, and to broaden my understanding of the underwater world.


I know from my own Web searches that there is a lot of curiosity out there with respect to this program and others like it. ScubaBoard is regularly attended by people with questions, stories, and opinions regarding the volunteer program at NAIB.



So I am now dedicating this blog to my ongoing underwater adventures, and I hope to concentrate—for now at least—on the NAIB volunteer diver program. I begin my dry training in just a few weeks, and I plan to start regularly getting wet within a month or so.

Peace,

Jeff

photos: Eddie Arrossi, Declan McCullagh, Erin Shay, Sabine Scherer