You’ve Been Tangoed 2– The Sequel
(by Arnold Talats)
Trip
preparations start the previous weekend, calculating and organizing the Nitrox
fills for my three 12 litre cylinders and charging sets of batteries for the
dive torches. The rest of the kit was checked and packed with the aid of my
infamous comprehensive smackheads dive gear tick list on Thursday night ready
for departure the following afternoon. One
o’clock arrived at work and I left with a big smile on my face, look out
Weymouth, lock up your scallops, here we come! Malcolm turned up just before two
o’clock and we loaded the car with practiced ease, final kisses and hugs for
my wife and the two youngest daughters and we were away in less than ten
minutes.
We
head out towards junction 13 and hit stationary traffic just past the
Interchange Retail Park; we discuss the merits of alternative routes and turn
back into Kempston and on to Bromham village. We headed for Newport Pagnell and
found stationary traffic at roadworks with a convoy system in operation. Sigh!
After nearly an hour we were in Milton Keynes but the traffic was getting better
the further we traveled from Bedford. We followed our usual route of Buckingham,
Biscester, Oxford, Newbury, M3, and M27 and on to Weymouth with very little to
slow us down.
Our
B&B was located just over the hill past the Fire Station in Weymouth Marina.
Although on the top floor and requiring side slung O2 ponies on the ascent, the
room was extremely clean and comfortable with two full size adult single beds
and the luxury of coffee making facilities and a colour TV!
I
availed myself of a triple ‘S’ (shower, shampoo and a shave) in a bathroom
that appeared to be larger than the entire caravan on my last dive trip!
Resplendent in our best Club gear we headed off towards the harbour. A quick
phone call on the way to check on how Kirsten, Kevin and Lisa were progressing
and we head on into the Sailors Return by the swing bridge. It seemed a bit dark
and gloomy and with no vegetarian food available for me we moved on to the
Wetherspoons pub a short distance away, I think it was called the Gnats Chuff
but I could be mistaken as it was getting dark. It was quite busy and noisy but
the lager was cheap and plentiful as was the food.
Suitably
refreshed we headed towards Tango until Tim Hunt called out to us as we pass the
Anchor Inn on the waterfront. We head inside and find Inger at a table in the
courtyard at the rear of the pub, it turns out that Friday night is Karaoke
night and this is the furthest we can get ourselves away from the aural pleasure
that is fast filling the pub. Kirsten, Lisa and Kevin arrive and so the hunt for
hot food is on. As it is after nine o’clock the Anchor has stopped serving
food by now and everywhere else we go we are met with shaking heads. On to
backup plan two now, the Fish & Chip shop next to the swing bridge. While
they are waiting for their food to be cooked to order Malcolm and I nip off to
the Spar shop round the corner and purchase some tinnies of lager and real beer
as Kirsten’s a bit of a hop head and we don’t want any trouble with the
Police at this time of night. It’s back to the aft deck of the Tango and soak
up a bit the harbour atmosphere whilst achieving a pleasant socially relaxed
demeanor. Not quite Monaco but a lot better than the Boathouse in Bedford!
Pim
and Pascale arrive and after exchanging greetings and comparing journeys we
assist them in getting their gear on board. Malcolm and I bid everyone our
goodnights and we head off for the high altitude boarding house. Fortunately for
us we come across a ‘Real Ale’ pub in the back streets on the way that is
reluctant to call last orders so a final nightcap is enjoyed sitting on plastic
garden furniture in the street outside the pub. Next morning Malcolm informs me
that he has nominated me as Captain for the English Olympic snoring team, I am
not offended at all as I can’t hear it myself. We head downstairs to a full
fried breakfast with a couple of Sea Legs Sea sickness tablets to follow.
Malcolm drives down to the quayside in glorious sunshine and we load the dive
gear onto Tango and meet up with the rest of our team for the weekend.
Phil
Corben the skipper arrives and shortly after we head off out to sea with big
eager smiles on our faces. The sea is possibly the smoothest I have seen it from
the deck of Tango and we set course for the Binnendyk seven miles south east-ish
from Weymouth. The Binnendyk is a 400ft Dutch steamship that hit a mine in
October 1939. After about an hour we arrive and Phil sets the shot, Malcolm and
I are the fourth pair in and the visibility is not quite crystal clear to say
the least. The shot line is quite vertical to start with but starts to level out
at about the 18metre mark and seems to go on and on horizontally for a very long
time. I eventually arrive at the wreck, which is broken into large sections but
is not a plate graveyard by a long way; the visibility varies between 3 and 8
metres. Large shoals of Bib swim all around us and we start to explore all the
nooks and crannies. We find a lobster and a conger eel quite quickly and decide
that both look a bit too mean for us to play with, I then come across a tyre on
its side, which is roughly a metre in diameter but with a very rounded profile.
It looks like it might be an aircraft tyre or even a gun carriage tyre. With the
layer of silt fanned away the tread pattern is still sharp and clear after 64
years on the seabed, Wreck Detectives eat your hearts out! After further
rummaging I find some copper windings for a small electric motor with loose
wiring in the same area. The wreck has a very large population of Tom Pot
Blennies and they appear to be the curators of the wreck, every time you look
around there is one watching what you are doing. There are quite a few edible
crabs hiding below sections of wreck and Spider crabs are easily found and
picked up to show to Malcolm. Large numbers Pollack are gliding about us in
shoals now and I discover a section of hull with some large rusty rivets in it.
My gloves have Kevlar covered fingers and distracted for a moment I started
rubbing the loose rust off a rivet, the surprising thing was that the rivet
shined up as if it was new! It still had large corrosion dimples in it but it
gleamed like polished metal. I tried this with a rivet on the St Dunstan the
next day and it worked just the same, weird or what?
Air
is now down to 100 bar on each cylinder so up, up and away to the surface under
Malcolm’s self inflating SMB.We add a one minute safety stop at six metres and
surface grinning from ear to ear and chattering like a couple of excited
schoolboys. Using Nitrox34 we have had a 47minute dive to 27metres and we had 8
minutes bottom time left before we would incur any stops. Back on board and
everything brown has hit the fan hard, the shoulder zip on my suit will not
fully unzip, it jams about 150mm from the end and no matter how much I try I’m
unable to get out of my suit! I recall hearing how other divers with jammed zips
have had to be cut out of their suits and I am swallowing really quite hard by
now. Malcolm is doing a very passable imitation of Dr Zip on call out and he
finds a couple teeth on the outside of the zip are starting to come away from
the backing and this is what is causing the jamming. We wait until we are in
calm of Lulworth Cove and with the aid of a small screwdriver he aligns the
loose teeth well enough for the zipper to pass carefully over them. Phew! After
a close inspection of the teeth I reckon with great care, Dr Zip, a small
screwdriver and a lot of luck I might be able to do some if not all of the
planned dives.
We
have a decent surface interval and a sandwich with Tango anchored in the centre
of the cove, I exchange a nearly empty cylinder on the twin set for a full one
containing Nitrox40. My new dive chum ‘Dr Zip’ manages to get my suit zip
done up again so we finish off kitting up in the calm water and then head out
due south to the Lulworth Banks. We are motoring out for what seems to be quite
a while but then Phil blows the whistle and we all go in paired together in one
wave with SMB’s already inflated. A good steady descent to the seabed and
after some buoyancy adjustment we set off skimming the sand at a brisk pace.
Visibility is a more than reasonable, 5 to 7metres! The seabed varies from rock
to sand every 25metres or so, sometimes you come across geological fault line
and the seabed will drop down a few meters, you have to very careful because the
fault trench you have dropped down into will suddenly end with a 2 or 3metre
vertical rock wall appearing suddenly in front of you with little or no warning.
I find a Dogfish snoozing, which is about a metre long, and give it playful
tweak on its tail, which sends it off at a fair lick; apparently they snooze in
the day and hunt at night, at least until I come along.
Female Cuckoo wrasse are plentiful as are the small Queen scallops, the
scallops are between 50 to 75millimeters across and swim up from the seabed when
your shadow goes over them. The swimming motion is similar to jerky clockwork
false teeth from a joke shop and in places on the Lulworth Banks you can have 30
or 40 small scallops swimming up and around hitting your body and mask. Over one
section my shadow disturbs a baby cuttlefish only 50 millimeters long, it’s as
curious as the adult version it stops long enough to give me the once over
before changing colour and swimming off. I see lots of Hermit, Spider and Edible
crabs, and a sponge with the name of Elephants hide. This looks a bit like
melted grey cheese over rocks with a springy firm, texture; I also see Ross
coral and resist the urge to touch the brittle petals this time unlike my last
Weymouth weekend.
Malcolm
and I decided before we dived that we would try and collect a few large King
scallops for some folks back in Bedford. It takes a little while to get your eye
‘in’ but after a while you start to notice a small puff of sand from the
seabed in front of you as the scallop shuts itself, slide you fingers underneath
it and lift gently, one very useful tip is not to put you fingers between the
two open halves of the shell! It does hurt for quite a while, as the muscle used
to close the shell is very powerful! The goody bag is filling up nicely, not
quite up to Dave Bridges standard but still satisfyingly heavy. We set off for
the surface with a one-minute safety stop and surface with a dive time of 41
minutes, a maximum depth of 22metres and 55 minutes bottom time remaining before
we would incur stops. Another smooth pick up by Phil the skipper and we are
heading back to Weymouth harbour.
At
the dockside we slip easily into ‘Cylinder slave’ mode and load Kirsten and
Pim’s car with 20 empty cylinders left for filling overnight at the Old
Harbour Dive Centre. Malcolm and I
head off to the B&B on foot and spruce our selves up for the evening to
come. We partake of a couple of ‘schnell’ pints on the stroll into town and
meet the other ‘Weekenders’ in the Wellington pub a couple of streets in
from the quayside. We have reserved the back room for our meal, which looks very
much like someone’s small backyard with a lash up roof on it! Food is cheap
and there is a lot of it, so we all tuck in with more dive talk flying about
than we have in the Equipment Hold on a Tuesday evening.
The
party breaks up after the meal with the diehard beer hounds heading into the
Rendezvous pub by the swing bridge. In the main bar there is a hen party in full
flow with a dozen or so ladies dressed up as Policewomen and one gentleman with
a bare chest and tight trousers, he climbs onto the bar top, kneels
provocatively and fills the front of his trousers with Anchor dairy whipped
cream from a squirty can. He puts a straw downwards into his waistband and
invites to Policewomen to have a taste. At this time we decide to take our
drinks next door before his generous invitation is extended to our happy group.
I ask our party why the bouncers on the door appear to have a bondage body
harness just to hold a small radio to their chest and on the way out Kirsten
politely asks one of the largest bouncers for the answer to my question.
At this I suggest we pick up the pace and we head off to the Sailors
Return with Kirsten ‘I’m not frightened of anyone, Mongoose’ Lea under
close escort. We all gather around a table for more talk and beer while Kirsten
finds herself a new chum to talk diving to, I’m not sure but I think his
personal gyroscope must be playing up judging by the way he is wobbling about.
The landlady comes over and draws the curtains and turns off the outside lights
and suddenly it dawns on me, we are in a lock in!
Common
sense prevails so we leave for the B&B above the clouds picking up a bag of
chips each to ease the walk back. Sunday
and we walk in glorious sunshine down to Tango with a spring in our step. Tim,
Kirsten and I drive round to the Old Harbour Divers shop and while I am
observing and signing for the Nitrox contents of our cylinders, Tim and Kirsten
have already loaded the rest in the car. It’s all about timing you see, we
manage to get all 20 cylinders and the 3 of us in as well! Very nice dive car
Tim, lot of room for kit, I make a mental note to make sure Tim is made aware of
all future Tango bookings. We form a cylinder chain back at the boat and we are
all working so well as a team that loading takes only a couple of minutes if
that. Phil takes us slowly out of a very flat harbour onto an equally flat
sea with blue skies and smiles all round.
It
a long trip round Portland Bill to Lyme Bay but we relax and enjoy the scenery
steadily slipping past. There are a lot of cameras out on the boat and there
were a lot of snaps taken of Portland Bill lighthouse, must be the unusual shape
I suppose. Tim has a large set of binoculars and gives the appearance of being
on U Boat watch for quite some time; he eventually gives up when he can’t spot
one. With the weather and the sea,
it looks like we are in promotional video for diving from Weymouth; it really
couldn’t get much better than this. Blue Turtle, a dive boat from Lyme Regis
has already shotted the wreck before we got here so we get permission to use his
shot.
We all kit up but as Pascale puts on one of her fins the strap snaps, luckily I
carry a spare assembled strap and she is ready to dive in a couple of minutes.
The
St Dunstan is a 200ft long bucket dredger that hit a mine in 1917 on
minesweeping duty. It still looks quite intact as we descend and it appears to
be rush hour in the fish world with shoals in all directions. There are quite a
few diver pairs on the wreck swimming past us every couple few minutes, Pim and
Pascale also swim past with excited ‘OK’ signs exchanged between us.
The
sides of the wreck have glorious carpets of pink and green jewel anemones, and
if you get up close with a torch all the delicate features and colours come into
their own. I’m a bit of a sucker for these babies if you haven’t guessed by
now. We fin slowly along port side and I see a Thick Lipped mullet rummaging
about the seabed for food with a couple of good size Gurnards for company. I try
my rusty rivet-rubbing trick at this point and achieve the same shiny result!
Looking into the holes in the hull we see large shoals of Bib and Pollack with
Spider crabs lurking and trying not to look too obvious. I find another Conger
that should only exist in bad dreams and Malcolm points out it has very brave
Shrimps for chums climbing on and around it! We manage to complete two slow
circuits of the wreck with lobsters and crabs added to our ‘seen’ list.
There is also a pair of divers below us with a camera in a large cloud of silt
so thick that only their moving fins and the camera flash can be seen, this goes
off every few seconds. I can only assume that either the button is stuck on the
camera or they are winning finalists in ‘Backscatter 2003’. We slowly ascend
up the shot line in a very relaxed frame of mind and a safety stop at 6metres
with my mask filling up because I am smiling so much. Using Nitrox34 we had a
46minute dive to 29metres with 3minutes bottom time remaining before incurring
stops. Back on Tango and we head back towards Portland with a nice mug of tea.
We
start to kit up with a fresh cylinder of Nitrox40 a short distance away from the
cliffs on the westerly side of Portland. We are above the wreck of the wreck of
the Gertrude which ran aground here in 1894 and the wreck of the James Fennel
which came to grief in 1920 in the same area but slightly deeper at 15metres.
Malcolm and I are first off and drop onto a very large piece of horizontal hull
at 15metres, we appear to be bang in the middle of a wreck debris field with
some suspended particles but the visibility is 6 to 8metres so long as you
don’t go back on yourself. The area has large 2 to 5metre diameter boulders
over a fairly flat seabed and I think these must all come from the cliffs above
over a long period of time. We find a ships boiler but I have absolutely no idea
which wreck it belongs to. We end up conducting almost a fingertip search around
and under boulders, I am distracted by the sight of an edible crab for a moment
and lose contact with Malcolm, I am about to surface when Malcolm reappears out
of the gloom looking for me, we proceed with a lot more caution from this point.
Looking at the seabed I see some gray clay patches a metre or so wide with lots
of boreholes in them between boulders, it looks like some has been repeatedly
pushing a round pencil in during a very long moment of boredom. I try to see
what is in there but the holes go too deep to see. There are juvenile fish to be
seen shoaling close to rocks but very little of any reasonable size, a couple of
small lobsters are spotted lurking under rocks as well as a small squat lobster.
We exchanged our personal signal for ‘I’m bored now, lets do something
else’ which is a hand covering and patting the regulator in the mouth as if we
were stifling a yawn. So after a flurry of hand signals we set of on a drift
under Malcolm’s SMB to finish off the dive, this can be a little awkward over
a boulder field but it does add an element of excitement to swoop up over the
boulders and down the other side. We are not talking large depth differences
here but enough to get you whooping into your mouthpiece.
As
I came level with the top of very large boulder I see a pipefish on some weed,
it was 400mm long and a pale orangey yellow in colour. I was passing directly
over it so I made a lunge and picked it up! I think it must have been snoozing
but handling it very carefully I examined it and passed it to Malcolm.
It was rigid like a ruler in your hand but once Malcolm let it go it swam
off very quickly none the worse for wear. Good steady ascent with the safety
stop of one minute at 6metres and back onto Tango for one of the legendary Kevin
Hopton speed de-kits. You just manage to sit down and Kevin has got all your BC
clips undone, suit inflator disconnected and your fins off before the reg comes
out of your mouth! Thanks Kevin. On this dive we were using Nitrox40 and we had
a 48minute dive to 19metres with 76minutes bottom time remaining before
incurring stops. A cruise in the sun back to Weymouth and the kit almost flies
off Tango to the quayside. We have to wait for the harbour swing bridge to shut
before Malcolm can collect his car from the B&B, but we are loaded very
quickly all the same.
Goodbyes
and handshakes all round and we set off retracing the same route we came down
on. Three and a half hours door to door, my kit is put in the garage damp to be
rinsed on Monday evening as it’s now 10.30 and I’ve still got to relate the
whole wonderful weekend to my non diving wife. The efforts of Dr Zip and
everyone else on this weekend have made it one of the most enjoyable on Tango so
far. When’s the next one?