I always have great dives around Galiano Island.  What an incredible place.  Our Chilliwack Scuba Club has a week long Camp and Dive trip there every year and we never get tired of the diving.  After several days, and lots of dives, the hardest thing is to decide which was the best dive so I can write something.  At Galiano there rarely is a "best" because everything is so good, so instead of writing about a dive, I am going to write about special things from several dives.

My first dive at Galiano this year was a current dive in Porlier Pass.  Martin, our wonderful skipper, tied up to a small lighthouse on a rock in the middle of the pass and gave us a dive briefing.  He told us that the wreck of the Point Grey was right underneath us, and that when we descended the anchor line we would be right on top of the wreck.  The current was running quite fast, but Martin assured us that once we were six feet beneath the surface we would be in the lee of a large rock and out of the current.  Looking at the water speeding past the boat we hoped he was right.

I was first in the water.  Martin told me to roll off the boat and immediately grab the line on the side of the boat to keep from being swept away.  I rolled off the boat near the bow, reached out to grab the line, and found myself stopped just a few feet from the stern!  In a couple of seconds the current had carried me almost the length of the thirty foot boat.  It was all I could do to hold on.  Krys was next in the water, followed by Kelley.  We had to fight to pull ourselves to the bow for our descent, then were buffeted by the current as we slipped beneath the surface.  Thankfully Martin was right about the current.  After descending six or seven feet we were in calm water.

On the bottom we took a brief look at the remains of the Point Grey as we swam around and through the skeleton of the ship.  A plaque on the bottom describes the boat and the wreck.  Then we were off across the bottom, up and down undersea gullies, looking at the incredible life made possible by the fast currents of Porlier Pass.

During this dive we came across an area of the bottom which was completely covered with brittle stars.  There was not a patch of bottom not littered with them, piled one upon another.  In one spot we found a writhing ball of brittle stars.  I have never seen anything like it.

A safety stop was a bit of a challenge on a dive when the current grabbed at us whenever we neared the surface.  Kelley finally found a protected spot in the lee of a huge rock where we were able to hang motionless among the kelp as the water raced by just above us.  Above us kelp lay horizontal, pushed down by the speeding current.  Unfortunately a three minute safety stop is not enough time to explore the beauties of a kelp forest, especially when you are restricted in your movement.

With Dave I had a drift dive.  We went into the water just north of Spanish Hills and descended to about 50 feet.  Slowly we worked our way north, against a back eddy in the current, looking at plumose anemones, nudibranchs and other brightly coloured life clinging to the vertical wall.  As we rounded a point on the wall we suddenly entered the current.  First gradually, then faster and faster, we were pulled along the wall.  Soon we were flying along, side by side, skimming past the wall.  We couldn’t stop and look at anything, but we saw everything as we went by.  It was sort of like walking around a huge buffet at a restaurant, seeing all the different things, but not being able to stop and sample anything.

As our air pressure diminished Dave and I rose to 16 feet, swimming up and over a shelf into an open kelp forest.  There we continued our free flight for another five minutes, enjoying the sights just below us as we soared over them as if on a sight seeing flight.  What an incredible ride.  Fish and kelp and starfish and sea urchins and much, much more all slid past as we were carried by the current.  All too soon our air was almost gone and it was time to rise to the surface.  Drift dives are incredible.

We visited the wolf eels on two different dives.  They are indescribable.  I never get over my amazement at being able to make contact with another species which is totally different from us.  They are so menacing looking, so ugly they are almost cute, yet as friendly as little puppy dogs.  I don’t know why the wolf eels love to have us scratch their sides and tummies, but they do love it.

On one dive, after everyone else had moved on to see other things, Krys and I were left with a large male wolf eel.  During that dive, the female was no where to be seen.  With just the two of us there, the male eel lay down on his side, extending himself to his full length.  Krys stroked his head and first half of his body, I stroked his middle and tail.  When we stopped he would lay still for a while and then look up as if asking us to continue.  He looked so forlorn, laying fully extended on his side, that both Krys and I wondered if he were sick.  I also wondered if something had happened to his mate who was no where to be seen.

We finally left the big wolf eel and continued our dive.  Fifteen minute later, after a visual feast of plumose anemones, sea stars, nudibranchs and other delights, we found ourselves at the bottom of a jumble of rocks at a depth of 67 feet.  Looking out I couldn’t believe my eyes.  There, lying curled on a flat rock just like a puppy in his basket, was another wolf eel.  Krys saw it at the same moment as me, and as we both kicked towards the big eel, she waved at me and pointed towards it.

Our eyes were fixed on the lone wolf eel and his on us.  Unlike the eel we had left only minutes earlier, this fellow was afraid of us.  He didn’t move at all as we floated just in front of him.  Krys offered the eel their favourite meal - fresh sea urchin - but it wasn’t interested.  It wouldn’t take even a nibble of the delicacy, even when it was broken open and placed right against it’s open mouth.  As we stared at the big wolf eel I caught sight of a slight movement just below and to the right of the eel.  It was a second eel.  Where there is one wolf eel, there is always a mate.  The mate was just as upset by our presence as was the first eel.  This one wouldn’t do any more than poke a head out of the rocks and watch us.  Again, no interest in a sea urchin.  With our puffy suits, huge metal tanks, big eyes and noisy bubbles, we must be pretty intimidating to a poor, helpless wolf eel.

In all my years diving I have never seen an entire octopus.  On occasion I have seen a stray tentacle hidden in the rocks, but nothing more.  This day, Krys found an octopus in a cave.  The cave was a couple of metres deep, with a low ceiling, but a fairly large opening.  The octopus was sitting inside the cave completely exposed.  Eyes were staring at us and the pinky-white coloured mantle, completely upright, slowly opened and closed as the octopus took in water to breathe.  Underneath were curled a maze of tentacles.  What a beautiful sight.  Krys tried to entice the octopus to come out and play, but like the last two wolf eels, it was not interested.  We had to be content to look.

Krys and I finished this dive with ten minutes drifting slowly through the shallow water of a kelp forest.  We made our way between boulders and through clefts in the rock looking at all the little creatures floating near us.  What a beautiful, relaxing experience as the sunlight sparkled in the shallow water and fish swam all around us.  It was a wonderful way to finish a perfect dive.

What a marvel Galiano.  Drift dives, walls, wolf eels and octopus, plus an incredible array of brightly coloured life.  Our scuba club's Camp and Dive is one of my favourite times of year.