MMR: Battling the Mighty Mollusk

As he descended to the bottom of the deep blue Pacific, he thought to himself "I hope my lungs can hold out for long enough." You see, the Mighty Mollusk was smart. It hid itself at the very bottom of its salty lair, where only the strongest could get to it.

Down and down he went. His lungs burned like Southern California in August, but he kept swimming. Finally he reached his destination. Rocks spanned the floor of the Mollusk's lair for as far as he could see. The Yeti grabbed ahold of the rocks and started pulling himself across the floor. He was just about to head up to the surface for some cool, life preserving oxygen when he spotted it, just at the edge of his vision, the mound of shell sticking to a rock in the distance. He ignored his body's cry for air and moved in for the kill. Darkness closed in on him. Every part of his body ached. He had to act fast. The Yeti grabbed his blade. It was now or never.

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Abalone is a rare treat. You see, fresh caught abalone is very hard to acquire. And there are strict limits enforced by Fish and Game to prevent poaching. Like, you can only get 3 abalone per day. That's it. Also, you have to free-dive for them...so no scuba equipment or bottles of oxygen can go down with you. Basically, you can only go as far as your lungs can take you. Finally, the abalone must be at least 7 inches to be of legal size to bring up. If it is smaller than that, you must leave it be.

A 7 incher is weak, though. The real prize is finding the 8, 9, and 10 inchers that have exponentially more meat to them. Those abalones are the ones you want to catch. A 10 inch abalone can feed a man for a month. The world record is currently 12.34 inches, which is a big freaking abalone. However, the bigger ones will only be found in deeper waters, out of the reach of the less experienced and the less manly.

The Yeti felt he was up for the challenge.

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No one knows why he is called The Yeti. The locals who remember him from when he first showed up at the Cove won't discuss the Legend of the Yeti. They tell us that it is a story for another time and another place. The regulars who pass through the Cove have always known him as The Yeti and have learned not to question it. The Yeti keeps to himself most of the time. He has a place down the road, on a bluff overlooking the Cove. Its probably a beautiful view, but as no one has every been invited over, no one can say for sure.

The Yeti does come into the local bar every night, though. He grabs his usual spot, and he regales the tourists in town with mighty stories of his alleged exploits. Whether true or not, no one knows, but they are good stories nonetheless. Everyone always leaves with a smile on their face, thoroughly entertained.

"Did you hear the one about how he caught 3 9-inch abalones on one dive? Yup, just went down once, all three were next to each other! He was done for the day in 30 seconds!"

"That's a good one, but did you hear the one about how he was diving and saw a guy trapped with his fingers caught under an abalone shell? Yup, claims he pried the abalone off with his bare hands, saving the guy, and getting the abalone to boot."

The stories were legendary around these parts, and the tourists were always eager to hear them.

After a few drinks, a few stories, and a few more drinks, The Yeti departs; either to the next door hotel with his latest one night fling, or to his house, alone. No flings ever see his house. No one sees his house...except from a distance.

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Late one night in early August, The Yeti was at his usual spot at the bar when a local diver, Scrag (named such for the ridiculous beard he always had), came in with a story of his own. According to Scrag, he was out in the 17 ft. water when he came across what he thought was just another rock. As he grabbed it to continue searching the deep for some massive abalone, the rock pried up, just a little bit. Scrag's hand slipped under it, and it clamped down, tight, upon it. This was no rock. This was an abalone bigger than any ever seen before. It was at least 13 inches across, and had serious depth to it. As the abalone clamped down on Scrag's gloved hand, Scrag was able to part with his glove, leaving it behind and swimming to the surface.

The Yeti listened from his usual spot, with an amused smirk on his face. When Scrag finished his story, and the locals and tourists alike were all fawning over him, The Yeti spoke, "13 inches eh? Why didn't you go back down and bring it up?"

"He had clamped down. Everyone knows that you can't pry loose an abalone that's clamped down already. Besides, he tried to kill me!"

"Hogwash! I think you are just making this up."

"You mean making it up like most of your legendary tales? No, unlike you, I don't have to make up stories to feel important."

"NONE OF MY STORIES ARE LIES!" replied The Yeti, getting to his feet, red in the face and shaking.

"Then why haven't we ever seen you in the water, then, huh? We hear the stories, but no one ever sees you diving!"

"I only dive when I need to! I have more abalone saved up than I know what to do with!"

"You think you're so great, why don't you go dive for this one. Pry it up and return with it. Set the record. Then, maybe, you can stop talking about the past and finally have a new story for the tourists."

The Yeti was about to make a snappy comeback, and then, reconsidering his position, stopped, looked square into Scrag's eyes, and replied "It's on."

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Wet suit, check. Hood, check. Mask, check. Snorkel, check. Gloves, check. Boots and flippers, check and check. Ab Iron, check. Headlight, check. The Yeti was nervous. It had been 25 years since he had last been in the water doing battle with the mighty mollusk...even though it seemed like it was only yesterday...

"Boy diving wonder Max Johnstone caught another 3 abalone yesterday, each one over 10 inches in length. This kid, a mere 20 years old, has already become an abalone diving legend in these parts, and is primed to become..."

Max turned off the radio. He pretended to be annoyed by all the local press attention he had been receiving, but the smile on his face betrayed his true feelings. He was 20 years old, he was the most accomplished diver on the California Coast, he had his pick of any woman he wanted, and he was solely responsible for the resurgence of tourism to the little seaside town of Albion. Life was good.

Max Johnstone, affectionately nicknamed The Yeti by those closest to him for his affinity for the coldest of ocean water, had come to national prominence after collecting 3 9-inch abalone on one single decent below the surface of the water...a feat that was unheard of. His legend grew when he was able to save a rookie diver who had gotten his fingers caught under a clamped down abalone. Since then, he had continued an unusual string of success on his dives which routinely saw him catch his limit within 20 minutes of entering the water, and never coming back with anything less than a 9 incher. Max had always had good luck finding abalone, and he was a strong swimmer. He loved his life.

Today was going to be his biggest feat yet.

In a moment of bravado, Max decreed that on Sunday September 7, 1986, he would freedive to 40 ft in search of the biggest abalone ever caught. This was quite a statement, being as most abalone diving is done between 10 and 15 feet. People said he was crazy, that it couldn't be done. Nevertheless, on the morning of September 7, more than 2000 people had come to Albion to see him attempt this feat.

Max jumped into the water, swam way out to where the water was 40 feet deep, waved to the crowd, and dove. And down and down and down he swam. His ears began to pop, and then his head began to feel immense pressure. Then, darkness. Next thing he knew, he was in a hospital. The pressure had exploded his ear drums, and his body was in bad shape. He would never be able to dive again.

Ashamed of his failure, and unable to face the fact that he could no longer do what he loved, Max left town. He left his name behind him, and went underground for a few years. When he resurfaced, he floated from town to town, telling stories of his glory days, and skirting town whenever questions arose as to why he was never seen in the water.

The Yeti had had enough. He was tired of running from his past glory. He was tired of having to explain to those few who ever got close to him why he could no longer dive. Even if it killed him, he was going to dive for this abalone. What was the point of living if you couldn't do what you loved?

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The Yeti was out in the ocean again. The salt air invaded his nostrils, and the sea spray pelted his face as he swam out to the location of the abalone's last known wearabouts. He was alive again! Just him and the ocean. No spectators or fans, no media coverage or expectations. He had nothing to fear. The Yeti was going to catch the biggest abalone of all time, or die in the process. There were no repercussions for failing for him. He liked this feeling of freedom...something he had not felt in a long, long time.

As he descended to the bottom of the deep blue Pacific, he thought to himself "I hope my lungs can hold out for long enough."...

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The ab iron was under the abalone in a flash. POP! The abalone popped off the rock, floating there for a few seconds, suspended in the ocean water. Before darkness completely enveloped him, The Yeti grabbed the shell of the Mighty Mollusk and pushed off the rock as hard as possible for the surface.

His face broke the surface of the water, disrupting the glassy look of the calm ocean. His lungs gasped for air, trying once again to find that oxygen that was needed to keep his blood flowing through and his brain alert. He rolled onto his back. He had been underwater for 3 1/2 minutes. He had almost completely lost his vision as the pressure of being underwater pounded upon his already fragile frame. He was exhausted, and he was broken...but he was victorious! Still clutched in his left hand was the largest abalone ever caught in the history of mankind.

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Max felt like he was 20 years old again. When word got out that he had broken the 13 inch barrier, the media descended upon the Cove, tourists were hunting him town to take pictures with him and his abalone's shell...he was famous once more.

No longer ashamed of his past failures, Max started using his real name once again, and told the story of how he had been young, and dumb, and tried to go down to 40 feet; how that had caused irreparable damage to his body, how he wasn't supposed to dive anymore. But he didn't have to. He had proven to himself, and everyone else, that he was the best abalone diver of all time. He had nothing left to prove.

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In the years that followed The Yeti's epic catch, life returned to normal around the Cove...with one major difference. Max became an integral part of the local society. He would throw parties at his house, inviting all the locals over to enjoy some abalone and the magnificent view his house provided of the cove. He would help out at the cove, getting divers into and out of the water, making sure they were properly geared and whatnot. And he would still take his same place at the bar, every night, telling his stories to anyone who would listen.