The Coin Divers of Avalon #2

"THR00000000000W A C000000000000IN!"

This "Right-Of-Passage" got me and my friends past the intimidation of "begging" and helped to teach us how to scurry, and "fend off" our fellow "divers", having to push them out of the way as we dug between the rocks to find the "booty". Then, we ventured into the water, generally waist high, and acclimated ourselves to "yelling", with a mask over our faces, and learning how, if we were lucky, to grab the money on the "fly" before it hit the water and headed for the ocean bottom.

My personal "Right-Of-Passage" came the following summer when I realized that I was ready for the "Big Time". I told my fellow child entrepreneurs that I was "GOING UNDER THE PIER", which meant that I was now ready to join the "big kids". I was actually going to dive for coins, thrown directly from the "S. S. Catalina"! I remember the look on my friends' faces when they realized that I was making the big move. I was now "one of them", a "BIG KID"!!!

The coin divers would head to the North Beach, also called "Pete's Beach", down the stairs, hit the water, and then swim out to the boat. The "macho divers", had to enter the water by diving off the edge, from about the seven foot level, directly into the water.

You would have to watch the wave action so that there would be water under you when you dove in. I learned this lesson on my first attempt! Instead of watching the wave hit the wall, dive in, and then let it take you out, I dove as the wave was going out, which meant that I dove face first into the gravel and rocks! I could have broken my stupid neck, but all it did was ripped the skin off of my forehead. Of course, not wanting to let anyone know that I had "missed the wave", I simply swam out to the boat, with blood streaming down my face! The salt water burned like alcohol, but it also acted as an antiseptic and eventually numbed the area.

At first, I started near the bow (front) of the Steamer and then, as I got more adventurous, I began moving toward the stern (back). The water was much shallower closer to the shore and quickly got deeper as one moved away from the shore. I am not aware of how deep the water was at the stern, but "free diving" down forty feet or more was certainly not uncommon. As a rule of thumb, we felt the “deeper” the water…the “bigger” the money. And…if you were really cute, which I definitely was, a passenger would motion to you as to where he/she was planning to throw their money, so that your fellow divers wouldn't be all over you trying to get that handful of dimes or quarters.

It wasn't unusual, toward the back of the ship, for passengers to use silver dollars (which were still being used as currency), as weights to wrap a $5 bill around and throw it into the water. They would often throw the "big money" near the propeller. The "prop" of the steamer, was continually slowly rotating, to keep the ship stable. The chance of being "sucked" into the propeller was a real liability of going after the "silver". Only the bravest or "stupidest" would attempt such a feat.

In order to get the money flowing, we would yell "THROOOOOOOOOW A COOOOOOOIN"! To get the "big money" we would yell, "LET'S SEE SOME SILVER!", or some such statement. Keep in mind, we never thought of this as begging. We were putting on a display of athletic prowess, or "performance", if you would prefer, and we were getting paid for what we were worth. The further out they threw the coins, the deeper they made us dive and the more fellow divers we had to fend off. This process determined what we expected to get in the way of remuneration.

If we weren't able to grab the money in the air, we had to face the sad truth that we now had to really work for our money. When coins are heading to the bottom, they tend to flutter back and forth, much like a leaf falling from a tree. You wanted to get to it as quickly as possible, because not only did you face the prospect of having to hold your breath, sometimes for a minute or more, but the deeper you dove the colder the water got. Then, depending on how much action was going on above in the water level, you had to face…a "welcoming committee"!!!

Once retrieved, there were only three places you would keep your money: 1) In your mask If you were lucky and got a lot of money, you couldn't see past the coins. But your mask would tend to "fog up" a lot and you would have to take it off and rub it with "spit" or "kelp sap" to keep it from fogging again; 2) In your mouth Money tastes bad and you run the chance of swallowing some. Unfortunately, some fellow divers choked on money getting lodged in their wind pipes; or 3) In your swim trunks Which usually had very small pockets and it took too long to try to cram your loot into them. Additionally, the other divers had more access to these coins. (This is a picture of me on the extreme left with a picture of a sea plane in the background).

After a particularly "fruitful" dive, when you made it to the surface, your "greeting committee" of fellow divers would then either: Pull off your mask, which would release your money; Put their feet on your shoulders, forcing you back down, which would cause you to "spit out" your money as you are now gasping for air; or they would simply "pants you". They would relieve you of your swimming trunks and go through your pockets. Believe me, IT WAS AN UNDERWATER JUNGLE OUT THERE!

If you made it through the day (the ship arrived at Noon and left at 4:10 pm, except on weekends, when it would generally make two round trips), you were usually in the water around an hour when it arrived and an hour when it left, you could easily get $15 or more in a day, which, in those days, was enough for some of the "mainland" college kids to be able to eat three meals a day, stay in a nice hotel, and take their "summer romances" to the Casino to dance that evening.

My coin diving career continued until the mid-sixties. In 1965 I graduated from High School, then I went off to college on the mainland. In 1969 the old Steamer Pier was torn down and what was left behind is now the site of Antonio’s Restaurant and the Busy Bee Restaurant. And finally, in 1975 the the S. S. Catalina was taken out of service forever. Between school, teaching and getting along in life, my coin diving career faded into the mists of the past, until…
(To be continued)


"THR00000000000W A C000000000000IN!"