Nordic Joe's Seattle Snorkel Guide

The frosty shoreline added a sense of accomplishment to the winter swim.

Air Temp: 21 F

Weather: Mostly sunny

Tide:  Low, ebbing

Date / Time: 1:00pm – 1:40pm – December 7th

Location:  Ballard, Golden Gardens Right-Rocks / Mermaid Forrest

My first attempt to venture into winter waters was brief.

My buddy showed up this weekend, and as a birth-day favor to old Nordic Joe, he’s agreed to try out the winter water so that we can see what’s what with a winter snorkel here in Seattle.  I’m told that the water doesn’t change temperature much and that it’s all the same when we get in, so it may be a way to beat the crowded beach parking and get the whole place to ourselves.   My questions were: How will the conditions differ?   Given that the “unchanging temperature” advice I’ve gotten about the winter waters of the sound all comes from Scuba divers, How will the water temperature differ nearer the surface?  What’s the life like at this time of year?   Does it thin in the winter like life on land, or continue to flourish as usual, 365 days a year? Is the water really more clear in the winter?

To answer these questions, we suited up on a frosty morning and by 1:00 pm, we were at the water’s edge – looking upon a choppy and temperamental sea-scape.   The sun goes fast in the winter, and of the first things we noticed planning this trip was that it would be a challenge to align the ideal water conditions (ebbing high tide) and the proper light conditions (as near solar zenith as possible).  AS such, we found ourselves near zenith, putting into a VERY low tide.

Heedless, I splashed into it and quickly assumed the snorkeler’s position.   My face ached terribly for a long time.  There was almost no visibility at all.   I was reminded of the terrible Tacoma swim.  Pure green pea soup.  Of course, this was low-tide and I was still near the shore.  I began to swim out from shore and found clear water surprisingly close to the breaking waves.  I looked to shore.   My buddy was slowly acclimating, stepping sideways deeper into the sea.   My face continued to send me ice-cream-headache twinges of pain as my sinuses adapted to the chill.   Eventually I was conditioned to it, and my buddy was comfortable proceeding.   Neither of us appeared brave enough to call this thing off.

We both observed that the water seemed significantly colder.   Low 40′s.   My 5 mil suit, sans gloves or footies, seemed extremely spare now.   I wondered how I would fare over a longer swim.

Yet the winter also provided some merciful gifts to the Seattle Snorkelers.  The low tide yielded quickly to bright and clear water and we made out quite a distance from shore and prepared to head along the shoal’s edge toward mermaid forrest.   After about ten minutes of strenuous paddling, kicking, and full body swimming, we both observed that very little progress was being made along the shore. The wind-driven current today was too much.  We could go out from shore, or toward shore, but any progress northward seemed impossible.

We met as two bobbing torsos in the middle of all this freezing chop.

A-a-a--ah-awe-sss-s-s-so-me

“What do you think”? my buddy asked.

“I think we are much farther from shore than we meant to be.”

“Yeah.    These currents are terrible.”

I put my face in and observed the bottom streaking by as floated rapidly south and out to sea.

“Let’s give it one more try.” I suggested.

So we again bent our backs to the sky, bobbed our heads and legs like dolphins and swam with all but the last of our strength.  We made it maybe 300 feet in 10 additional minutes.

Giving up, we decided to let the current take us back to shore, swimming only against the outgoing tide, and we took our pleasure in the moon snails below which I tried several times to dive toward for a close-up photo.   We saw some needle fish, crabs, stars, and tons of moon snails on the sandy flats just near the beach itself.

Our final conclusions:  The water temperature is bearable, even in my modest suite, but gloves and dive socks would be a big help.  Maybe also a jacket.  Visibility is indeed better in the winter, even in low tide.  The sea’s temper however, is more of an issue during the winter when storms can roll in easy and strong winds can drive swift currents that could easily foul up the unobservant swimmer.

We decided, after playing near the beach for a while, to return on a day with calmer currents.

Swim Buddy's 14 mil core protection has him sitting pretty.

Moon Snail is about 1' long.

6-28-09

Marine Park, on Ruston Way, Tacoma.

Weather: Sunny

Air Temperature: 90 degrees

Surface: Turgid

Water Temperature: 55 degrees

Water Visibility: 2 feet.

Tide: Low

Marine Park, Tacoma WA.

I know it’s called the “Seattle Snorkel Guide”, but I can’t ignore our sister city and her miles of beaches – especially because one of my swim buddies lives there! I outfitted at a nearby scuba shop where I got, AGAIN, the lecture about why snorkeling in the Puget Sound is a bad idea, I should really learn to dive, there’s nothing to see here, why bother, etc…(YAWN).

They gave me a 7 mil wetsuit for 20$ but gloves, boots and hood were extra so it cost about 50$ for the day.  The suit was so hot that I couldn’t wear it zipped up until I was in the water.  The 7 mil full body suit is the suit of choice for a Puget Sound Diver, so I was sure to get hours and hours of swimming in today without having to turn back.

The site at Ruston way was promising from the car.   Pilings jutted from the water and suggested shelter to marine life and a complex submarine landscape waiting for us to explore.   We got out of the car and geared up about 50 feet from the water while the Sunday crowd motored slowly past blaring loud hip-hop, Abba, polka, and even Journey.  But it was we who again elicited stares of disbelief as our growing band of intrepid snorkel explorers be-finned themselves for the unknown water in front of us.

Yuck.

We got in and the visibility was bad.  This must be the water conditions for which the Sound has earned a terrible reputation.  The water was like thick green soup.  I took a photo oh my hand in front of the camera and this is what came out:

Murky Water at Low Tide

Had this been my first time in the Sound, it would have been my last.

We thought the water might clear up if we went out a bit further, so we went out to the posts and started looking for clearer water.  Alas there was none to be found.  In fact, I soon grew very concerned about half broken pilings just beneath my chest should a wave with a deep enough trough come by at the wrong time.  In these kinds of conditions there is no way to see sharp metal or broken wooden pilings just beneath the surface, so we called it and jumped out.

The whole time, I was sweating like a dog in the 7 mil suit.  It was WAY too much protection for me.  When I moved, the water inside felt like hot broth trickling around inside.  Nasty.  It might be good for those who don’t favor the cold much, but Nordic Joe needs a lighter wetsuit for tootling around on the water surface.

Murky Water and Submarine Hazards = Danger.

Of Course, you can still find stuff here.

People always want to know what we are doing.

Impressions: I’m not terribly likely to revisit this spot.   A week after this “low point” in our explorations, my buddy in the photo on the left sent me a photo of a beautiful pristine divers destination just another 10 minutes down the same road.

Lesson: Don’t settle for bad conditions.  The Sound changes constantly as you travel along the beach.   It could be sparkling clear around the next headland – you just need to know when and where to go.  Also, low tide tends to suck for near-shore swims.  Maybe revisit a site I like at highest of high tides?