Sinking Shots in Swanage

We were staying in caravans and I was to be sharing a van with Tricky. This would be fine, as long as I could keep him away from the cheese. I arrived at around 5pm to be greeted by Paul and Jen. Jen had a glass of wine in her hand and Paul had a big bottle of cider and a huge grin! “Welcome” he said. “Have some cider!” So I did.

Inside the van Ian and Tricky were drying Tricky’s handheld GPS over the gas fire. This was not a good sign. Over a beer Ian told me that although notionally waterproof, Tricky’s Etrex didn’t take too kindly to being left in his pocket as he waded ashore from the rib. As the boat GPS was playing up again, the result was that Saturday’s diving, although enjoyable, involved more then the planned number of scenic dives.

Driving down to the Indian with Tricky to pick up our take-away, I asked Tricky about Sundays diving. “Too windy” he said. The weather in Swanage had been cold, grey, and the wind was borderline for taking the rib out. With one unreliable GPS (the boats) and one soggy GPS (Tricky’s), the Hellfins had decided instead to go walking across the cliffs. Leaving Swanage they’d headed west in the direction of St. Alban’s Head, taking in the Dancing Ledges in the way, where, egged on by Phil, they performed the “Happy Dance” to the bemusement of the local wildlife. The afternoon had been spent in various hostelries and the local cinema, before saying goodbye to Sally and Phil, and now people were itching for a good days diving. Outside the wind was still blowing. I was a little nervous, as I was in charge of Monday’s diving, but I was reassured by a weather forecast I had with me that predicted poor weather on Sunday, and good weather on Monday. It had been accurate so far and I hoped that it would be right on Monday.

We awoke on Monday to glorious sunshine, and barely a breath of wind. We launched the boat, and when we rounded Old Harry the sea was a flat calm. I reflected that the last time I was on that patch of water we were diving in a 2m swell. Now there was nothing but gentle 2 inch waves lapping at the side of the boat. Ian opened the throttle fully, and good old Martha sped off to our first dive site: The Firth Fisher.

The Firth Fisher lies quite close to the Kyarra, and for this reason isn’t dived much. She’s in around 38m of water and is a relatively small wreck. A complete circuit takes about 20m. The marks I’d found for the wreck proved to be quite accurate, and we found the wreck quite easily. On a command from Ian, Tricky heaved the shot over the side of the rib. We turned around, intending to check that we’d shotted the wreck correctly, but we couldn’t see the buoy.

B*gg*r.

My heart sank. I’d lost a shot a few weeks previously and been mercilessly taunted down the pub. Using the GPS we tried to backtrack over where the shot might be but there was no sign. B*gg*r again.

We’d arrived on site very early, and I had plenty of time to think of another plan so we could at least get a dive in. We first went to the nearby Kyarra to see if there was a permanent mooring attached to that, but unfortunately one wasn’t visible. After a bit of cruising around there, we headed back to the Firth Fisher. Our new plan was for Tricky and myself to descend down one of the fishing buoys near to the wreck site, and then use our compasses to try and find the wreck. If we found it we would attach my spare reel to the wreck and send up a DSMB for the remaining divers to descend down.

Buddy checked and ready to go, Tricky and I were sweating in our drysuits when, joy, our shot reappeared! We motored over it, and as time was limited, decided to descend down the line. We weren’t confident that the shot had landed on the wreck, and even if had, it could well have been dragged off. Still, there wasn’t time to have another go, so over the side we went.

I love that cool green feeling when all the stress of the surface is washed off and your mind is full of nothing but the dive. I was first down the shot, sinking quickly waiting to see a sandy bottom rushing up at me when – oh joy of joys– a wreck! And not just any wreck! Much more intact then the Kyarra, the Firth Fisher lies upright on the bottom and is recognisably boat shaped. And there was our shot lying over the starboard railing. Wonderful. The viz was great, a good 5 to 10 metres, and there was plenty to see. Both hard-core wreckies and fish-prodders would have a fantastic time on this site. Plenty of life - plenty of bits of iron - fun for all the family. Tricky and I completed a lap of the wreck in about 20 minutes. I was diving Nitrox 28, and my computer was clear, but Tricky was on air and had about 5 minutes of stops showing so it was time to ascend back up the shot.

A nice steady ascent and we surfaced. Excited, we climbed back on board, telling the rest of the bunch about the marvellous dive that we’d had. They didn’t believe us! Jen was all for pulling up the shot and trying to find the Kyarra. “It’s true” I insisted, and eventually they were persuaded and went in.

They too came back on board with big grins on the faces. It’s times like this when I really love UK diving. Sometimes bad weather, strong tides, murky waters, all conspire against you, but other times the sun is shining, the viz is good, you have a top notch dive on a cracking wreck and it’s wonderful. That dive on the Firth Fisher was one of my top Swanage divers ever.

Back on board we headed back to the pier for air and Fish ‘n’ Chips, an important part of any diving trip.

My plan for the afternoon was to dive the Valentine Tanks. These are notoriously tough to find, but I had both GPS co-ordinates and a transit from a local skipper, and although I was by no means confident, I was sure we had a reasonable chance of finding a tank.

Unfortunately when I got out there, it became obvious that I would need binoculars to see the transit marks. Although we did notice one lump on the echo sounder, we could not repeat it, and ended up doing a sandy bottom dive. Still it was enjoyable, and the pairs stayed down for 20 minutes or so swimming up and down, looking at the little crabs and fish that live down there.

Back in Shell Bay we recovered the boat and freshened up in the caravans. After a few sherries we headed into Swanage to take the air along the sea front before an early night, ready for Tuesday’s diving.

On Tuesday we headed out round Old Harry on course for the Aeolian Skye. It’s a fair way away, and it took us about 40 minutes to get there from Swanage pier. The large container ship lies in a depth of 30m, and is simply huge. We dropped the shot in near the bows, which I’ve since found out have been broken off from the rest of the ship, although they’re so huge we didn’t realise that at the time! Fortunately the shot didn’t disappear this time. Ian, Paul and Tricky were first in, and when they came up smiling it was time for Jen and me to go in.

We descended the shot in to the green. I had Ian’s lifting bag with me, as we were planning to bag-off the shot. When we got to the bottom, I attached the bag to the shot and started to fill it. Suddenly there was a huge bang! I looked at Jen but she seemed to be ok. Then I realised that the lifting bag had disappeared. Although we were using the nice new mooring rope for a shotline, it was attached to the weight with blue polyprop. This had snapped, allowing the lifting bag to shoot to the surface and the buoy and line to drift free from the weight!

B*gg*r again!

I couldn’t believe that we were going to lose another shot! Fortunately I managed to grab the drifting shotline and, although slightly narked, managed to tie it back on to the shot, which we would have to recover by hand. Shot faffing finished, Jen and I set off for the wreck.

We had a cracker of a dive on the Sky. The wreck is huge, and again, there’s plenty of life, and a good few holes to scrabble inside. After 30 minutes we came up on a DSMB to find that Tricky had already recovered the shot and Ian had rescued his lifting bag. As we zoomed back to Shell Bay, I couldn’t help but do a little happy dance of my own.