MENDOCINO, CALIF. -- Shaun Stratton pulled on his wetsuit, grabbed his
inner tube and headed to the beach to take part in one of California's
riskiest pastimes: hunting for abalone.
It's not that abalone is an elusive quarry. The giant snail inches its
way across the rocks in relatively shallow water. Even so, diving for
abalone has become one of California's most hazardous recreational
activities.
At least seven abalone hunters have died so far this year along the
rugged coast of Sonoma and Mendocino counties, authorities say. Last
year, seven died in Mendocino County alone.
"When you throw yourself into the food chain, there are a lot of
factors," said Stratton, 54, a general contractor from Chico. "You lose
your advantages. You can't just pull yourself out if you get in
trouble."
Some divers say the danger is compounded by a ban on the use of air
tanks by abalone divers and a lack of education about the hazards
divers face.
One recent casualty was Richard Baer, a former U.S. Coast Guard rescue
crewman and California Highway Patrol officer. An experienced diver,
the 57-year-old businessman drowned Sept. 12 near Sea Ranch in Sonoma
County after he got tangled in thick kelp.
"I spent a lot of time training for this kind of thing and I have dealt
with a lot of death," said Ron Long, a certified diving instructor who
tried to save Baer. "But there was nothing that prepared me to go down
in 12 feet of water and stare at the face of my best friend who was
drowned."
Long added: "I am not ever going abalone diving again."
The quest for abalone brings thousands of people to the Northern
California coast during the season, which runs from April 1 to Nov. 30
with a month-long break in July. The divers swim down and pry the
abalone off rocks in water as deep as 15 feet.
Abalone aficionados rave about the slow-growing mollusks' "velvety
tenderness" and "succulent flavor." Divers often come to the coast in
groups -- renting a house or camping out -- and cook their catch at the
end of the day. Some divers return year after year.

Photo by Genny Anderson, Santa Barbara City College, California
As the numbers of abalone have declined over the years, the state has
banned commercial harvesting and imposed ever stricter regulations on
recreational hunters.
Abalone divers must have licenses and can take only one species, the
red abalone, north of San Francisco. Divers are limited to three
abalone a day and 24 a year. Each one must be at least 7 inches in
diameter.
Divers are allowed to use a mask, snorkel and flippers. Typically, they
also wear a weight belt and take along a covered inner tube to hold
their gear.
Statistics indicate that abalone diving is more dangerous than some other activities commonly held to be risky.
Of roughly 40,000 licensed abalone divers, at least 23 have died since
2004 in Mendocino and Sonoma counties, according to official records
and news reports.
Officials acknowledge that some fatalities may go uncounted because no agency is responsible for recording them.
By comparison, of about 300,000 licensed hunters in California, 11 have
died in accidents since 2004, state records show. The website dropzone .com, which tracks sky-diving fatalities, reports 12 sky-diving deaths in California during the same period.
"We deal with a lot of recreational activities -- hunting, fishing --
and abalone diving takes more lives than any of them," said Sgt.
Shannon Barney, deputy coroner of Mendocino County. "There's a lot of
ways to get in trouble."
In addition to getting tangled in kelp, divers can be buffeted by
strong waves that smash them against the rocks. In 2004, one ab diver
was killed by a great white shark off the Mendocino coast.
During extremely low tides, some abalone hunters clamber onto the rocks
to pick the mollusks out of pools. Occasionally, a hunter is swept out
to sea by a wave.
Some divers die simply because they underestimate the ocean -- or overestimate their own fitness.
"A lot of our folks don't necessarily die of drowning," Barney said.
"They end up perishing because of heart-related issues because they
aren't in the physical condition to get into the ocean."
There is also what locals call "Sacramento syndrome."
After traveling here from other parts of the state, some divers are
loathe to depart empty-handed -- no matter how rough the ocean.
"By the time you get your wetsuit and your vacation house rental, you
are spending a significant amount of money," Barney said. "You can't
spend all this money and not come home with something."
All 14 abalone hunters who died in the last two years came from outside
the North Coast area. Among them were three who died in Mendocino
County over two days in April 2007, when the ocean was particularly
rough.
The most recent fatality was Robert Stewart, 38, of San Francisco, who
died Sept. 21 after he became ill while diving off Shell Beach in
Sonoma County. Stewart's friends pulled him onto a rock 100 feet from
shore and gave him CPR. A county rescue helicopter rushed him to
waiting paramedics, but efforts to revive him were unsuccessful.
"People don't understand how strenuous it is and how dangerous the
ocean can be," said Jerry Kashiwada, a state biologist and diver who
surveys the abalone population.
Blake Tallman, who runs Sub-Surface Progression Dive Shop in Fort Bragg
and rents gear to abalone divers, is an avid ab hunter himself. He said
locals have an advantage because they can wait for good conditions.
"The ocean is a lot more dangerous and unpredictable here than people
think," he said. "They definitely underestimate it."
Some divers and officials say it may be time for the state to require
"diver ed" when issuing abalone licenses. They note that mandatory gun
safety education has been successful in reducing hunting fatalities.
Since Baer's death, his friend Long has taken up the cause of alerting people to the dangers of abalone diving.
He first met Baer 38 years ago when they were Coast Guard rescue
crewmen in San Francisco. Both were trained in helicopter water rescue
and flew missions in the area where Baer drowned.
Baer, who made his home in Scottsdale, Ariz., had built a successful
food-packaging business. He leaves two adult children and an 8-year-old
daughter.
Long, who now lives in Granite Bay near Sacramento, said he was
surprised when they arrived at Sea Ranch this year to find that the
kelp was much thicker than in the past.
Some divers strap knives to their legs so they can cut the kelp if they
get in trouble. But Long said he and his friends didn't carry a knife
because it creates its own hazard: It is one more protrusion that can
get caught on the kelp.
Long, a retired Sacramento fire captain, said he was 30 to 50 feet away
when he saw Baer dive under the surface. When he didn't come up after
more than a minute, Long swam down and found him trapped by kelp around
his waist and shoulder.
Paul Baker, another longtime friend and diving buddy, joined Long in
trying to free Baer. Long said it took him three dives to clear the
kelp. By then, he estimates, Baer had been underwater five to seven
minutes.
Long said he believes he could have saved his friend's life if he'd
been allowed to have a small oxygen cylinder. He argues that the state
should change its rules and let certified divers carry a thermos-size
air canister for emergencies. The canisters could be sealed so that
game wardens could determine if one had been used.
"I firmly believe if I had one, Rich Baer wouldn't be dead today," Long said.
Harry Morse, a spokesman for the Department of Fish and Game, said the
scuba tank ban is intended to limit the overall abalone harvest and
protect the scarce resource.
He called the circumstances of Baer's death a "unique situation" but
said the Fish and Game Commission should consider Long's proposal to
let divers carry an emergency air supply.
Long, with a lifetime in the business of rescuing people, finds it hard
to accept he could not save his best friend and realizes now how risky
abalone diving can be.
"It's a hell of lot more dangerous than people realize it is," he said. "It's my mission to educate people about the danger."
richard.paddock@ latimes.com