The promise of much needed rain, not just a light sprinkle, disappointed. The landscape is parched. Wetlands that normally survive our normal long dry summer are suffering; river pools that provide refuge for our freshwater aquatic ecosystems are drying up; and even terrestrial native vegetation that has evolved to survive our climate is severely under stress. I’ve heard rumours that we might get an early winter, and it may not be such a bad thing. But last night and today’s forecast of showers and a possible storm, wasn’t to be:
Lisa told me the ocean seemed relatively flat and relatively clear during her Saturday morning bob. Encouraged by the news, the fact that the swell was reported to be only one meter, and the sun was in what looked to be a reasonably clear sky, I wandered down. It’s been two and a half weeks since I last went in, mostly due to the wind directions resulting in groundswell chopping up the water. You’ll have to look at a previous post if you are wondering what I mean by that, which was written when the conditions where ‘meh’ (https://sandbagged.blog/2024/02/02/stripy-friends/):
The landward winds were not a good sign. Blowing dark clouds in quicker than I expected, which blocked out the sun before I had even entered the water. As I stood at the water’s edge it didn’t look inspiring, but it had been too long since I had put my head underwater so went in anyway. The odd whiting flickered in and out of vision over the shallow sand near the shore, after which and as the water deepened the base was just a blur. The only thing of note being a tangled jellyfish, looking like a knot of hair. One I have seen before but have struggled to identify:
Its size and features resemble a Cigar Jellyfish (Olindias phosphorica), but these do not originate from these waters. The only sighting of one recorded on the Atlas of Living Australia being in the tropical waters of the coast in the Northern Territory. Scouring the base, as best I could, I felt a sting from above. Popping my head up, big heavy raindrops were bombarding the water all round me. The temporary little craters, where they impacted was fun to watch. It was also pretty cool looking up, from below. Seeing the momentum of each drop resulting in circular patterns spreading outwards:
A variable that dictates the size and speed of this pattern is the depth of water being hit. For shallow waters, such as puddles, the surface tension of the water is the dominant force. This results in ripples forming that move fast near the centre and then slow down, as the circle becomes bigger, due to the surface tension being spread more widely. In deeper water such as the ocean, gravity is the dominant factor. Waves are generated at the point of impact and move out at a constant speed. So creating a visually different pattern:
Just like the forecasted showers and possible storm, it was short lived and the stinging sensation from above soon stopped. The rain ceased where I was but a slight rainbow out to sea suggested another belt of rain might be coming my way. Not put off I continued to dive down, not really knowing what was below me till I got closer. The odd fish was huddling under a ledge, but there was not much else. Still the water felt lush so I was pleased to have gone in, and was rewarded with bait ball of juvenile Striped Catfish (Plotosus lineatus) when I started to head back to shore:
Sandbagged 