Cannery Row Free Diving

A fun quick swim
down and about
on a low viz kind of day.

Cannery Row Parking

Underwater Yoga

(Clay Exercise:
20-minutes with live model.)

Paddling with JP and Bird

Understory II

Blades

Kelp (Forest) Love

These shots aren't as crisp as I'd like, but I still like them.  I still like them as aids to memory.

Steinbeck's Opening Invocation: Cannery Row

Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream.  Cannery Row is the gathered and scattered, tin and iron and rust and splintered wood, chipped pavement and weedy lots and junk heaps, sardine canneries of corrugated iron, honky tonks, restaurants and whore houses, and little crowded groceries, and laboratories and flophouses.  Its inhabitants are, as the man once said, “whores, pimps, gamblers, and sons of bitches,” by which he meant Everybody.  Had the man looked through another peephole he might have said, “Saints and angels and martyrs and holy men,” and he would have meant the same thing.
. . . .
How can the poem and the stink and the grating noise – the quality of light, the tone, the habit and the dream – be set down alive?  When you collect marine animals there are certain flat worms so delicate that they are almost impossible to capture whole, for they break and tatter under touch.  You must let them ooze and crawl of their own will onto a knife blade and then lift them gently into your bottle of sea water.  And perhaps that might be the way to write this book – to open the page and to let the stories crawl in by themselves.

--John Steinbeck
from his novel Cannery Row 
(first and last paragraphs of Ch. 1)

Fishing Trip

Monterey Bay, fisherman off Cannery Row.

Sofia, All Dressed Up

Reprise: Diving Like A Duck II

(I love my Rocket Fins -- and have since 1978.)

Paddling Off The Row