October 10th through the 24th

Trip to Yap and Truk Lagoon!



 

With Harry busy and unable to dive and Jan joining me, we made the decision to combine our two great loves in diving - wreck diving, and spear fishing! Not much very interesting to report other than that we had a nice dive on the Neptune, with not the best typically good visibility that we would expect, but she was holding her share of decent size Tataug. I dived first and tied us in. In short order I was on the deck zeroing in on the first fat Blackfish. In no time I had my limit of three and spent the rest of my bottom time leisurely exploring the entirety of this intact "Hollywood" wreck. Upon my surfacing, Jan took his turn and also returned with his share of this wreck's bounty.  On the way in we stopped long enough to cast to, and subsequently land, a couple of nice Blue Fish for Jan to take home. It was a fun day of wreck diving as well as fishing and filling the cooler!
 

With the wind screaming out of the north-west we would have to try and find something in the lee of shore if we wanted to dive on this day. After consulting Harry, it was decided that we would venture into Boston Harbor to check out some numbers and then try for either the bow of the City of Salisbury or the Kiowa if conditions allowed. We preferred the Kiowa, but the current rips through the area of her resting place and neither of us had a tide chart handy when we were deciding. We would just figure it out when we got on the water.

As per usual, we put Harry's boat in at Green Harbor and made another bone-jarring run from Marshfield to Boston Harbor. Red joined us again for this trip. While expressing our apologies to him for the rough ride, Red assured us that he was just happy to be out on the water, and would dive anything that we chose. After surviving the run up the coast we spent a bit of time checking out a couple of possible sites. We did not get to search for very long, for after consulting the tide charts and deciding to dive the Kiowa, we knew that our window to dive her was drawing near. After one more run over some numbers and not finding anything we set off for the wreck to dive.

The Kiowa was a freighter that sank in December of 1903 after being run down by the Admiral Dewey while she was at anchor waiting out a storm. She was deemed a menace to navigation so her bones were demolished with dynamite to clear the area to a navigable depth and produce the vast debris field that she is today. We arrived over the numbers and were about to drop the hook when we noticed a Tug and its tow heading straight at us. Not wanting to hinder the vessel, we waited for her to pass before hooking the wreck. Harry and Red dressed and splashed in short order and I geared up and waited for my turn.

Once Harry climbed back aboard I rolled in and headed for the bottom. The water temperature was comfortable, if not down right warm, and the visibility was an honest ten to fifteen feet. I have no idea where we were tied into, there was a vast array of disarticulated beams and hull plates all about. I know we were near the edge of the hull as I went over the edge of a few vertical hull sections and landed on the gravely ocean floor. I ran a line on this dive as I was concerned that with no solid and recognizable wreckage, I may not be able to make my way back to the hook. Also, I knew that the tide would be turning at any time and was concerned that the visibility may drop. With that said, it was an enjoyable and interesting dive with many holes and crevices to check out. The shallow depth - about 65fsw - and warm water made for an easy and fun dive. Red managed to grab a few bugs and was happy to simply be in the water - as we all were!

Saturday August 25th                   The Metis and The Heroine

With Red and Harry joining me, we launched the boat up in the pond at Point Judith and made a bone-rattling run, through some three footers on our bow, down the coast to dive the wreck of the Metis. The Metis was a 200-foot long, wood hulled passenger steamer, which sank on August 30, 1872 after colliding with the schooner Nettie Cushing. The Nettie Cushing's bow cut deep into the Metis causing a fatal wound. She did not sink, however the Metis was not as lucky. The Metis quickly filled with water and went down. Over fifty lives were lost, most of them the passengers. Today the remains of the Metis sit in 135 feet of water with a rumored safe full of silver coins yet to be recovered.

As we approached the site we saw that we would not be alone on the wreck as the charter vessel Canned Air was already on site attempting to set a hook. After successfully doing so, Capt. Gordon invited us to tie off to his stern. Red and Harry splashed with me right behind them. I typically do not leave the boat empty while diving, but in this case we had Capt. Gordon aboard his vessel watching ours, and we did not want to hold him up on the wreck after his divers returned so we thought it best to all hit the water as quickly as possible. Besides, we were in slack water and also wanted to take advantage of that fortuitous opportunity.

After passing returning divers on my way down the line I arrived at the hook to find that we were not tied into wreckage. There were remnants of copper sheathing, broken pipes and other pieces of metal, but no wreck. I could see two lines, Harry and Red's I assumed, running in two opposite directions. I tied in and headed off between them. With a dark six to eight feet of visibility I elected to use my light to search through the small pieces of wreckage that I was coming across. Finally, after nearly 15 minutes, I could see the dark form of the ships engine. After a cursory examination of the only prominent wreckage that I could find, and with my planned bottom time nearly expired, I made my way back to the hook to start my ascent, but not before salvaging a weight belt that I found lying off the wreckage. On my way to the surface I had some regrets about grabbing the belt, as maintaining buoyancy became a chore with the added 20 pounds of lead.

Once back aboard we merely had to cast off from the other vessel and be on our way after thanking Captain Gordon for his hospitality. We all agree that this is a site that certainly warrants further exploration and we will not wait too long to visit her again. After having a sandwich we swung by the wreck of the Heroine and grabbed her mooring.

Harry sat out the second dive while Red and I headed for the bottom. We had a bit of a surface current to deal with, but on the wreck we found the current to be slight with 10 to 15 feet of visibility. This was to be merely a "sight-seeing" dive for me so I had neither tools nor a spear-gun. Of course, I saw a monster Tataug! After spending part of my dive untangling the mooring line to keep it from being cut on wreckage, I passed the remaining time of my dive salvaging a new Danforth anchor and rode left by some unfortunate divers before us.

We had a pleasant cruise back to the Harbor of Refuge with a flattening sea on our stern, while enjoying the summer sun and the scenery by George's in Galilee. All in all it was "profitable" and fun day of wreck diving with friends. 

 

With Harry busy tending to personal business, it would be only Jan and I diving. Having room for a couple more divers aboard my boat Cetacea I asked fellow club members Marc P. and Karen R. to join us. We were looking forward to a nice and relaxing dive to explore a wreck and perhaps shoot a few fish for dinner. The Heroine and Progress would be two fine choices to fit our needs.

After launching the boat up in the pond in the shadow of South County hospital, we set out for the Heroine where we found a mooring that someone was kind enough to place there. Marc and Karen dived first with Jan following. I would dive last. Upon their return, Marc and Karen let me know that the water was warm with vis in the 15 to 20 foot range, but there was not an abundance of Tataug, my intended quarry. I decided to dive sans a spear-gun and merely do an enjoyable sightseeing dive. I passed Jan at about 30 feet and saw that he tagged one nice fish. The bottom came into view at just over 50 feet down. Once I settled at the bow where the mooring was attached I had a true 20 feet of horizontal visibility with water temp in the high sixties! I made my way around the site in a counter clockwise direction observing the large bitts, both fore and aft, laying in the sand. I checked for a conger eel that was known to inhabit a particular niche in the bow but could not find him, however, I did have the company of several large Fluke as well as innumerable Cunners following me about. After nearly 30 minutes of BT I made my way back to the mooring, but not before seeing for the first time, the large anchor affixed to the weather deck on the bow with its stock stuck into the sea bed. After a comfortable hang for a safety stop, I boarded the boat and we made ready to head to the Progress. Before doing so, we enjoyed sandwiches and soft drinks while drifting among the now flattening rollers.

At the Progress, a former barge, there was no mooring to be found, nor one expected. With a large array of disarticulated timbers and deck machinery strew about the sea floor, hooking into this site is never a chore. On our first drop we were made fast to the wreck.

Once again Marc, Karen, and then Jan headed to the bottom. When Karen and Marc returned, I rolled in, this time I did take my gun. I came across Jan with two nice Blackfish and a few Sea Bass. The visibility was a bit less than the last dive and there was a good deal of sea snot drifting by in the noticeable but manageable current. I managed to get a nice size Sea Bass on my own while clambering around the wreckage and trying not to lose my bearings to the tie-in point. This is not so much a wreck per se, as it is a site with wreckage. It is so broken up that navigation can be difficult. On the plus side, it is only 50 feet deep and a free ascent would be no problem. But it would be embarrassing to not find the line!

In the end, I made it back up the line to the boat, after rigging the hook with a bag and breakaway line. We stowed our gear, cleaned our catch, and enjoyed a leisurely cruise back to the ramp under cerulean blue skies with friends.

Doria Trip . . . almost

It's Sunday night. As I stand in my garage and wait for the dog to perform her evening duties, I mentally run through my checklist of gear for the next few days of diving. My truck has been packed since Saturday and I've added the remaining odds and ends for this week's trip to the load throughout the day. Gasses have been analyzed and double-checked, primary and spare equipment inspected, SAT phone initiated and EPIRB packed. I would be meeting Harry early Monday morning to load his boat and head to the Vineyard where we would be joining Marcie and Gary. If the Weather Gods allowed, and winds and seas were favorable, we would be off to dive the Doria at the crack of dawn on Tuesday aboard Marcie's vessel SeaDuctress.
 

  What two guys need for a couple of
 dives on the Doria  

After an uneventful crossing to Oak Bluffs, Harry and I relaxed at a local waterfront restaurant and waited for Marcie and Gary to arrive. They were slated to be on the island a couple of days earlier, however, a death in Marcie's family forced her to work overtime to simply make it to the island on Monday. I don't know how she found the time or energy to get everything done for this trip, but she did. So; here we are, they are on their way, and the weather is forecast to be as good as anyone could hope for with calm seas and clear skies through Wednesday. I spent the last week with my fingers crossed while watching the weather. I was guarded and attempted to not even mention that we were planning to dive the Doria lest I jinx the trip. I was scheduled to dive her several times over as many years only to have the weather rear it's uncontrollable and tempestuous head to squash our plans. But this time we may just make it there.
 

The SeaDuctress arrived just in time for Marcie to catch the ferry back to Woods Hole and return with her truck and trailer full of gear. When she returned, we loaded equipment and gas from the trailer to the boat and then hit the rack in Harry's boat to try to get some sleep. But who could sleep? All the stories that I heard and books that I read,. . . the depth . . . danger . . . and death . . .damn, we're going to dive the Doria! Try to sleep with that on your mind.

Tuesday, 5:30 am, or "Oh dark-thirty" as Gary says, we joined Marcie and him to prepare to shove off. By 6:30 or so we were on our way. Marcie was at the helm. As she deftly maneuvered her nearly 40 foot vessel out of our slip and through the mooring field on this sleepy still morning in Oak Bluffs, Harry and I secured the few remaining pieces of gear on deck yet to be stowed while Gary toiled below decks. Once clear of the harbor and in good water Marcie turned over the helm to me so she could tend to some house keeping duties to see to it that our home for the next couple of days was readied for the 80 mile trek off shore. I got the relatively simple chore of keeping the boat on track while using the video-game like chart plotter. I just had to keep the little boat symbol on the "road" displayed on the GPS screen. "So easy a cave man could do it!"
 

We rounded the north-east tip of the Vineyard and headed south along the east side of the island and through Muskegate Channel, a narrow sluiceway barely a half of a mile wide bordered by dangerous shoal waters waiting to grab a vessel a mere four feet below the surface. On a calm day with good visibility, running through that area is no more difficult than getting across Boston Harbor. But, with an angry sea, out-going tide, and fog or darkness, it is an area to exercise extreme caution while navigating, if not avoid entirely. On this day it was a cake walk! Once into the open we had a straight shot to the Andrea Doria. At our current speed we would arrive within three hours. The only hazards to avoid were other vessels - of which none showed visually nor on radar, and whales. With calm seas forecast for the day, as well as the next few, we would be enjoying a steak dinner under the stars while sharing key moments of our dive on the Grande Dame with each other this evening!

I finally started to let myself believe that I would get the dive in this time when I noticed that the fuel gauges were at about 3/4 full. We had 40 miles to go and we used 1/4 of our fuel supply; according to the gauges and gauges on boats are notoriously inaccurate. A quick mental calculation of 40 miles per quarter, times four quarters is 160 miles . . . our exact planned round trip. But gauges on boats are usually inaccurate - I told myself again.

Each time I had a trip scheduled for this dive I would try to plan it as thoughtfully and completely as possible. "Plan your dive and dive your plan", the mantra that all divers must have indelibly inked in their consciousness in order to stack the odds in favor of making it back to the surface. Using the same rig configuration year after year - not as a gesture such as carrying a rabbits foot or wearing lucky socks - but to build muscle memory and automatic reflexes so that reaching for a particular piece of equipment is as thoughtless as inserting one's keys in the ignition of their automobile. Do dives in deeper and darker waters. Dive in current and on dives carrying all the gear needed for the "big dive" to merely practice. Get your head right. Know what you're doing, and why you're doing it.  Most importantly, know your limits. Be honest with yourself. I think it was Gary Gentile that said -  and forgive me if I paraphrase - "Unfortunately, most divers learn what their limits are once they pass them, and then it is too late". When asked what we planned to "bring back" from the wreck at a recent club meeting, Harry responded that he was bringing me back and I was bringing him back! Now that's the attitude that I want in a dive partner.

With the soothing drone of the engines serenading us, I could see Harry fighting sleep as his head would occasionally drop off of its balancing point. He would recover his posture with a quick flex of neck muscle. With a just a bit of fog, a mild and comfortable air temperature, and most fortunate of all; mill-pond calm seas, we were in for a couple special days of diving. To top it all off, I was with some of the best people possible to be diving this particular site. My friend and experienced Dive-Master and dive buddy Harry, who is the coolest and most relaxed person that I know in the water. He is among the only people that I can count on one hand that I would do a dive like this with. Marcie Bilinski, known for finding many, and diving the majority of wrecks in Massachusetts, as well as exploring caves and shipwrecks throughout the world. And Gary Gentile, the guy who "wrote the book(s)" on wreck, technical, and Doria diving, along with countless others. His dives on the Andrea Doria alone number in the hundreds! I was the rookie in the group with only 19 years of experience and less than 1000 dives. Who could ask to be in better company?

My eyes kept getting draw to those damn gas gauges. Like a driver not wanting to look at a wreck on the side of the highway but subconsciously drawn to it, I kept watching the gas gauges move steadily towards  1/2. Once we hit the half mark I asked Harry to let Marcie know what we were reading on the gauges and that we still had 20 miles to go before reaching the site. I assumed that he would let her know what was going on and would return in a moment to tell me not to worry, and that the gauges are known to be inaccurate. A moment turned to a minute, then several before he came to the helm and said that she wanted to talk to me. Not a good sign.

After a brief consultation with Marcie and Gary we realized that we had no choice but to turn around. In short, the vessel was burning much more fuel than it ever had in the ten years that Marcie owned her - by nearly twice. Never before had she carried the amount of weight that she was bearing on this trip. Apparently, all the extra weight drastically effected the hull's efficiency. At the rate we were using fuel we would have been about forty miles short of returning to Oak Bluffs. Fortunately, with some fuel utilized that was for the generator and a reduction in speed, we made it back to the harbor.

Disappointment does not begin to describe how we all felt. But hey, it is what it is! We are all well versed in the harsh reality that in wreck diving, some times your are not going to get wet. What was important was that we tried and no one got hurt. I look at it as that there is a reason for everything. Perhaps there was a reason that we should not dive on that day? I know that some may say that I am merely attempting to rationalize a mistake in planning. But who could have imagined that some extra weight would have so drastically effected vessel range. The boat has carried a substantial amount of weight in the past, including five divers and all their gear without a noticeable effect on its range. I guess we passed a tipping point with the weight that we had on that trip.

Even with the disappointment of not getting to dive the "Grande Dame", it was a fun week to be with friends on Martha's Vineyard. We did manage to get out and dive the Aransas and pick up some "artifacts" as well as a few bugs, including the largest lobster that my hands ever wrapped themselves around at about four pounds or so. On Thursday, Harry and I left the Island and headed home. Our slip was reserved only through that day and I had to be home Friday for a prior commitment. I will certainly be ready to try again next year.

NOTE: Harry returned to the island  on Friday evening to join Marcie, Gary, Jerry Cronin and his partner Mark. With extra fuel, redistribution of the weight and an adjustment in running speed, they made it out to dive the Andrea Doria on Saturday. A worsening sea state forced the decision not to dive on Sunday and they made it back after nine hours with fuel to spare. Congratulations Gal and Guys!

Just a nice day of diving to report. Harry was busy filling tanks and getting gear ready for an upcoming trip, which left only Jan and I diving. Renee decided to come along to do "boat watch" duty and grab a little sun at the same time. We headed up to Salem, MA and put in at Winter Island Park. They have a beautiful state ramp with plenty of parking, restroom facilities, and reasonable fees for launching and trailer parking. Our plan this day was to do a couple of dives, grab a few scallops, and then check out a site thought to have the vestiges of a tugboat wreck adorning it.

Well, we managed to get a few scallops . . . very few, compared to previous years. Back "in the day" we could jump into any one of many spots and fill a catch bag with desert plate size pieces. But those days are gone. After four separate dives - two of which were merely prospecting and futile - we managed to gather about six-dozen scallops between us. It was enough for dinner for each of our respective families, so who can complain. The funniest point of the day was seeing Renee crack up laughing as I described my dive to Jan upon surfacing. I guess I sounded quite funny due to the helium in the 24/30 that I was using. Typically we don't hear how each other sound because we've ended our dive on Nitrox or O2 so the effect of the helium on the vocal cords has passed. But on this day I was not using a deco gas. I surely didn't need the He, but was just burning it off to empty my cylinders to refill with proper gas for a planned future dive.

After shucking our catch, we set a course to a rocky, boulder-strewn area to search for wreckage. After coming perilously close to a particular boulder that we were looking for, and anchoring a safe distance away, Jan and I splashed to explore the fifteen-foot depths. Who says wreck diving is deep and dark? After searching for nearly an hour, and battling surge while navigating through rocks and weeds we called it a day. The dive was not entirely in vain as Jan came up with a nice size bug to have with the scallops.

And so, in the Log Book go a few relaxing forays beneath the waters of Massachusetts' north shore.

Saturday, July 14th          The Acid Barge and Heroine (almost)

The coffee maker was just finishing its first brew of the day when I stumbled into the Mobil station at 4:30 am. I was a little early arriving at our scheduled meeting point in Park Square, Woonsocket and a fresh cup of Joe was in order. Harry and Red would be joining me shortly so that we could load-up and make our way to Galilee. Today’s goal was to dive the Dixon Chemical barge (a.k.a. Acid Barge) south of Block Island. 

After the typical ride to the ocean’s edge filled with dive-talk and the goings on of the previous week, we pulled into the parking lot at the ramp and saw why we had to rise so early to begin our day’s adventure. The lot was filling up fast and the line for the ramp growing, so in line we fell. Our trip to the site was uneventful other than stopping to check out a Portuguese Man-O-War that turned out to be a dead party balloon. We arrived over the wreck at about the same time as another boat that was looking to set out a chum slick to do some shark fishing. Fortunately, they moved on before doing so. The specter of doing deco hangs in chum-laden waters attempting to attract some toothy friends did not appeal to me.

Red splashed first with Harry following him. Harry was charged with checking the hook and setting it and I would rig it for recovery. While they were down I did a bit of housekeeping on the boat – rough ride out, set up my gear, and readied my video camera. Harry and Red would let me know if it was worthwhile taking it. I was just kicking back to relax for a few minutes when I heard the familiar Darth-Vader like breathing sounds at the swim step. It was Red returning. Getting aboard a small craft in pitching seas in full wreck gear requires everything but finesse. Brute strength is a prerequisite and Red had plenty of it. With a grunt or two he was back aboard and sitting at the dressing table. He let me know that the vis,  at a dark 10 to 15 feet so, wasn’t the greatest to be shooting video.  I left the camera behind and rolled in. I past Harry on the Gerri line and headed for the bottom. The darkness started closing in at about 120fsw and I ended up firing up my light before reaching the chain at 140. Harry had placed the hook in a great spot adjacent to a stout piece of wreckage to tie off to. I was, however, in the shadow of a large dragger net looming over my left shoulder. Even with the decent vis and knowing exactly where it was, nets are spooky things to be around while under water. I headed across the deck of this former chemical carrying vessel until I hit the rail. From there I took a left and followed along the barge's edge while remaining on the deck. I do not know if I was heading fore or aft, or if I was on the port or starboard side as there is no “pointy end” on a barge. From upon the deck one cannot see the slope of the flat bow. I came to an end took another left and ran into a bundle of familiar piping that I first came across when traversing the wreck. I followed the piping to a point where the net came into view and I knew immediately where I was, back near the hook. There are a myriad of pipes, large valves, a few companionways and many nooks and crannies to check out on this wreck. I stayed on the deck and did my dive at around 147 fsw. The visibility was not as great as is typical, but it wasn’t bad, just a bit darker than on previous dives. I was at the hook just a few minutes before my planned BT so I decided to rig the bag to the hook and head home. 

After an uneventful hang I got back aboard, stowed my gear and retrieved the hook. We enjoyed a leisurely lunch while drifting and then headed north for the twenty-something mile ride back to shore. On the way back we veered over to the Heroine where a boat was anchored over her with no one aboard. We assumed that she was hooked to it so Red dressed and rolled in to follow her line to the wreck. We stood off and waited. Unfortunately, when the other boat’s divers returned we learned that their hook was in the sand and that they had followed a small line to the wreck from a marked buoy that they dropped. Red was doing a sand dive! He returned after twenty minutes or so and all was good. He searched for the wreck but never found it. Harry and I commented that now Red knows how our friend Gary felt after being dropped on more than one sand dive when we were investigating wreck numbers last year. 

In the end, it was another fine day of diving with friends to put in the books.

Once again, and perhaps for the last time this season we headed to the Pinthis. While she is a great dive, after 3 visits, Harry and I may be getting a bit tired of her. Harry was not diving due to a head cold and Jan was on vacation which left only me diving. Luckily, Ed P. was able to join us again, and we also got to have Red Godin, owner of Giant Stride Dive Shop join us. Harry's son Keith rounded out the gang aboard Harry's boat on this beautiful Sunday morning.

As we made our way to the wreck I was hoping that the visibility on the Pinthis would be decent. The bulk of the reason for choosing this site was to introduce Red to some great Mass Bay diving, as well as to take Ed to one of his favorite wrecks. The Pinthis is simply a hands down favorite when it comes to good visibility on a fairly intact wreck dive.

                                                                                                             Keel of the Pinthis
Red splashed first with me following. Our original plan was for me to meet him on the line and we would then head to the wreck. When I got in the water I traversed the Gerri line to the mooring yet found no Red. I looked down and instantly knew why. There, nearly 50 feet below me, I could clearly see the remains of the Pinthis and Red leisurely exploring this "new" wreck. I simply let go of the mooring and lazily sank to a position just over his right shoulder. I was there only moments when he turned to look over his shoulder. We exchanged OK signals and set out on a clockwise course around the site. We made our way around the entire wreck, checking out the rudder, auxiliary anchor, main anchor, and other notable ship's features. Finally, after trying to coax a bug out from some hull plates near the mooring line, Red's time on the wreck was over. He signaled me his intent to surface and did so. I remained for nearly another ten minutes, I had time as I entered after him. I would have liked to have another 30 minutes to spend under such great conditions. In the end, I was quite pleased that we chose to dive here as this was certainly the best visibility of this season and I rank it in the top three best dives on her over the dozens that I have had over the years.

Once all were back aboard we made our way to the nearby Winsor for a second dive. We again had visibility in the 30 to 40 foot range with bottom temps a comfortable 47 degrees or so. It was a banner day with two enjoyable dives to introduce new people to and enjoy diving with friends. . . . but I think that may be it for the season!

There are simply too many wrecks and too little time to keep diving the same few, regardless of how nice they are.

Saturday, June 30th           The Mars and Winsor

On this day Ed, one of our very busy friends, finally joined us to dive the wreck of the tug boat Mars off Plymouth MA. The Mars sank on September 13th, 1942 after being involved in a collision with the Bidwell. Today she rests upright, sans her pilothouse, in about 130 fsw. Upon arriving over the site Harry deftly maneuvered his vessel over the wreckage as I dropped the hook on his command to snag the prize on our first try. With calm conditions and seemingly clean water, this looked like it was going to be a prefect day. Harry splashed with Ed following behind. As per our usual drill, Harry would set the hook and tie in. At the end of my dive I would arrange the hook on a bag and light line that we would later snap with the boat's engines. This method allows us to remain affixed to the wreck while the last diver completes a deco obligation. The hook is then easily retrieved, brought to the surface via the lift bag, without hanging up in scattered wreckage.

Ed returned not long after entering the water, which signaled to me either an equipment problem or crappy conditions. His gear was working fine. The visibility just was not cooperating. Harry was still down but Ed felt that rooting around on an unfamiliar wreck in less than 3 feet of vis at over 100 fsw wasn't a great idea. I agreed. He thought that I shouldn't bother diving here, but I knew Harry would have the hook set and someone had to head back down so it may as well be me. Besides, I wanted to see for myself!

Harry surfaced as I was getting dressed and briefed me about where we were tied in. He agreed that the vis was not good, but off I went. At first I could see over 30 feet. At nearly 60 feet deep I could still 20 feet or so of line ahead of me. I guess it was at about 90 feet when the "fog" closed in. As I worked my way along the chain on the anchor rode I could barely see my hand at the end of my arm. Eventually I followed the chain over the gunwale and found the hook lying on the deck grappling a section of steel plate. Right where Harry affixed it. After mucking about for a few minutes I decide upon Ed's course of action and rigged the hook before returning to the surface.

After retrieving our ground tackle we decided to stop by a site that was on our way back to let Ed dive what we knew to be a relaxing and easy dive with outstanding visibility; the Winsor. While we had been there recently, it is always nice to introduce new people to her and it is a pleasant dive to end the day with. As usual we had great visibility while exploring the remains of this former schooner barge. I even managed to grab a nice sized bug hiding among the wreckage.
 

There are times when the early bird doesn't get the worm. This day was one of them. I met my partners, Harry and Jan, at the glorious hour of five am. Our plan was to get in the water early and make a run out to the Bass and then check out a wreck that Harry and I had scouted out the week before while checking some old survey numbers. Well, as the saying goes about the best laid plans of mice and men, our much anticipated dives were not happening; not today. Typically, it is best to head out early in Block Island Sound before the south-west winds build and stack up the seas. However, this morning we were greeted with a westerly breeze gusting to 25 knots. We got about four miles from shore, and after launching off of the third four-footer in nearly as many minutes, we all agreed that it would be wiser and certainly more pleasurable head to the lee of the shore to do other dives. We ended up about a mile and a half off of the Charleston Breech-way to dive the bones of the tug Mary Arnold and the barge Progress. These two vessels came to their final resting places on November 24th, 1940. The Mary Arnold was attempting to rescue crewmen from the sinking barge Progress when, while doing so, the tempestuous seas slammed the two together causing the Mary Arnold to sink along with her charge, the Progress.

At the Mary Arnold, with a depth of about 60 feet and laying on a clean sandy bottom, we enjoyed a bright dive with visibility of nearly 30 feet. All that remains today of the courageous little tug is a single piston steam engine standing about ten feet off the bottom with associated engine room wreckage. Heading forward one finds pieces of wooden hull planking and sand. Head aft, and you find the propeller shaft extending a dozen feet or so back, and a four bladed wheel about five feet in diameter. Two blades are exposed. To the port side of the engine one finds more wreckage and pieces of piping. On the starboard side there is the remnants of a boiler and more piping. I'm sure digging around the site would reveal more of the tug's carcass. All in all we had a very relaxing and fruitful dive, as Jan speared several Black Sea Bass for dinner.

Once everyone was back aboard we made the arduous 500 foot trip over to the Progress. I sat out this dive and plopped Jan back in the water. He experienced nearly the same conditions as the previous dive and harvested a few more Bass. In my mind, the Progress is not as interesting as the the Mary Arnold. She is now simply a series of disarticulated timbers and pieces of deck machinery strewn about the sandy bottom, but it is an easy and relaxing dive.

Of course, as were were heading in, it appeared that the winds were dying and the seas flattening. Talking to a friend several days later, I found out that around noon it became quite comfortable to head out to Block Island in a vessel of our size. I guess earlier isn't always better.

After a year of not visiting the U-boat we decided to make an early morning run to her and try to beat the usual weekend crowds. By five a.m. Harry and I had my boat loaded and we set out from northern RI for Point Judith. By six we were pushed off the dock and had the U-boat's coordinates plugged into the GPS.

Just as we cleared the entrance to the breakwater by George's we saw that someone was not having a good day. There, on the West Wall, was a 22 foot center console motor vessel perched high and dry. We found out later that fisherman were out the previous evening to do some Bass fishing when they ran out of water! Fortunately no one was seriously hurt.

Shortly after that photo was taken the rising tide - and we suspect some "helpful" fisherman - dislodged the boat from the wall's grasp and the vessel drifted away and was salvaged by Sea Tow.

We arrived at the U-boat to find that we had the site to ourselves and our choice of two moorings affixed to the wreck. We grabbed one and went about setting up to dive. As luck would have it we chose the right mooring to grab, for after Harry returned, and just after I splashed for my dive, Harry saw the other mooring suddenly drifting away trailing a substantial length of line that was formerly affixed to the wreck. We later discussed that a combination of the wave action and the substantial current must have created enough action to chafe the line through. Last year the same thing happened while we were tied to the Mars. The line parted as our divers were about to touch the wreck, but I digress.

Harry returns from the U853

Harry reported that while there was decent light penetration the visibility was murky and there was a pretty stiff current running in the top half of the water column. He was spot on about the visibility. I could probably see ten feet and then everything was in a haze. A light did not make it better, it was like using high beams in the fog. The current was stronger than he experienced as I had to pull myself hand over hand to get to the wreck and crab along a a nearly right angle to the length of the sub to make headway as the current was washing over her from the port to starboard.

The only place to rest was in the lee of the sail. We were tied in at the stern. I managed to make it from bow to stern, poking my head into the myriad of openings peppering this once lethal war machine. I chose not to venture inside on this dive. I've been through her from stem to stern on previous dives and just wanted to check out the over all condition of the wreck. I noticed more settling at the stern, and the bow sloughed off a couple years ago. More of the outer hull, particularly along the port side, seems to be missing. At least it appeared that way to me.

Another group of divers arrives at the U-boat

Once my planned bottom time approached I made my way back up the line oscillating in the current. The conditions provided a good practice experience for using a Jon line, doing gas switches, checking back-up equipment, and trying different tasks in a ripping current.  All in preperation for a dive we hope to report on by the end of July - stay tuned!

Not too much to report on this dive. With a questionable weather forecast, We took a quick run out to dive the  shallow remnants of a wooden schooner barge known as the Winsor. At only 85fsw with habitually great visibility and relatively close to shore, it is a nice easy dive to try some new equipment configurations and get a quick dive in before the weather turns nasty. That's just what we did! As soon as I returned from my dive and got my gear stowed, the gloom moved in and the rain started. No worries. With Harry's heated dry cabin it was a pleasurable ride back to port and a late morning visit to our favorite breakfast joint!

Sunday, June 3rd                                The Pinthis

This weekend was nearly a washout. On Saturday Harry and I were on our own as Jan had other commitments and none of our other diver friends were available. With only two of us, and each diving alone, we decide to do an easy couple dives. We set out from Green Harbor to the Pinthis again with a planned second dive on the Winsor. We lost a weighted Gerri line (or as Gary G. likes to call it "photographers line) and carabiner the last time that we were on the wreck and we wanted to retrieve it. Well, as the saying goes about the best-laid plans of mice and men, things occurred to change our plans.

Harry changed his fuel filters during the week and apparently air was trapped in the system. That manifested itself in the engine being unable to get the boat on plane and have barely enough power to make headway. We did get back in and planned to try again on Sunday. If the seas in RI looked OK we would take my boat, if not and Harry resolved his fuel problem, we would use his boat in MA waters.

Sundays forecast for sea and weather conditions didn't look great for RI, and not much better for MA, but we decided to try MA again. At the least we would sea trial Harry's vessel if we couldn't dive. Again we headed to the Pinthis.

Once we got there Harry dived first and I would follow once he returned. After nearly forty-five minutes Harry was clambering his way back up the ladder. I could see the smile on his face even with the regulator still in his mouth as he spit it out and simply said; "nice dive"! He found the carabiner we lost on a previous visit but oddly he couldn't find the two, five pound lead weights that were tied to it. We wondered; why would someone take the weights and leave the carabiner?

In short order I was in the water. At just past sixty feet the deteriorating hulk of the former fuel carrier came into view. Starting at to port rail I headed towards the bow. Checking out the anchor and mooring chain to the buoy that the Pinthis took to the bottom with her, I continued down the starboard side to about a third the way to the stern and entered a large break in the hull. I exited the wreck back on the port side just aft of where we were tied in. After venturing off the wreck a bit and paying a visit to the rudder lying in the sand, I made my way back to the line. Just as I was getting ready to ascend I caught a glimpse of a piece of yellow poly line - the line we used to tie the weights to the Gerri line. There, wedged between two hull plates were the smashed remains of Harry's two, 5lb weights! Apparently, the wave action on the line had beaten the weights on the hull of the wreck until they hooked a piece of hull plate. Either the wave action worked to abrade the poly line of the act of us merely tying in snapped the line. In any case, our "mission" was accomplished; we retrieved our lost weights!
 

Saturday, May 26th              The Neptune and the Teti

                                                                               
I got together with my regular buddies Jan and Harry to head out to the Neptune and the Teti. The Neptune (actually the Neptune II), is a steel hulled fishing vessel sitting upright on a gravel bottom in 85fsw. The Teti was a smallish Tugboat about 70 feet long and is resting on a sand bottom in about 100fsw. According to Gary Gentile in Shipwrecks of Rhode Island and Connecticut, The Neptune foundered in November of 1989 and the Teti was lost in 1972. Jan never dived those wrecks and we thought they would be a couple of nice dives to introduce him to. We put in at Allen's Harbor in Kingston, RI. Heading south down Narragansett Bay and passing over the wreck of the Mount Hope Tug, we had mirror calm seas until we approached the mouth of the bay. It got a bit choppy but manageable as we rounded Castle hill and headed southeast to the wreck sites. The Neptune had decent vis of 10 to 12 feet with a mess of Tog around (a few less after Jan got through). One thing that I took note of during my dive was the presence of several small Codfish. I do not recall seeing them on this wreck during previous dives there. There is no mooring on the Neptune so we had to hook her, which is easy considering the state of the wreck.

We then went over to the Teti - yah, I know, it was a reverse profile, we did the deeper one second - and found a mooring that someone thoughtfully left there. Our reason for doing the slightly deeper dive second was to avoid any crowds that dive typically dive the Teti first and the Neptune second.

The vis was about the same as on the Neptune with many less fish. The plastic skeleton in the pilothouse is looking a bit worn out, but he is still there albeit missing an arm. There is a large dragger net along the port side starting from beneath the stern, lodged under the running gear and running forward to amidships. After cruising around the wreck a few times  I made my way back to the surface to a much anticipated lunch that Jan thoughtfully packed!

It was a good day of diving on two easy and fun wrecks off of Newport. It was also a fruitful day for Jan as he bagged his limit of Tataug for several dinners.

 

Saturday, May 5th                The Pinthis
I met Harry and Jan in Hanover where we proceeded to take Harry's boat to Marshfield and head out to the Pinthis. The weather was calm with a typical spring chill to the morning air as we sneaked by the dredging barge that was monopolizing the channel at Green Harbor. We cleared the breakwater and set out towards the wreck. This was Harry's boat's first trip of the season and everything was running like clockwork.

As we neared the numbers we were lucky enough to find a mooring that was affixed to the Pinthis the week before. We simply tied off and Harry and Jan geared up to dive first, with me splashing after they returned as is our usual drill. We were not expecting great visibility that this site is known for due to reports of virtually no vis from divers that were here last week. I was pleasantly surprised when the guys returned and said it wasn't as great as usual but they did have about 15', which is darn good by New England standards.

I finally got in the water and made my way to the wreck. We were tied in amidships on the port rail of this overturned hulk. After so many dives on this wreck the first annual trip here has a feeling of visiting an old friend. The Pinthis was my first wreck dive in Massachusetts waters in 1993 and I have developed a particular affinity for her over the years. During that time I have been a witness to the progressive deterioration of the wreck. It is sad to see her change, but at the same time exciting to think of what see has to reveal during her evolution as a shipwreck. On this dive I merely wanted to cruise around the hull to check out what toll this winter's storms had taken on the wreck. I had about 10 to 15 feet of visibility with a slight current running stern to bow. I set out for the stern to run a clockwise course around the site. And no Bill, I didn't have my tool bag - sorry, my bad! A cursory look around the wreck didn't reveal much of a change to me, other than that the gaping hole in the starboard  side of the hull may be slightly larger. The stern also seems to be settling more and the openings in the starboard bow area near the auxiliary anchor seam wider. One thing did not change; the Pinthis is still a cold dive! After 25 minutes and the loss of most of the dexterity of my fingers it was time to head back to the boat. With no appreciable thermocline yet established it was going to be a cold hang.

Back aboard, I was thankfully dowsed with warm water that Harry was thoughtful enough to bring along. We swapped notes about our dive, of course emphatically stating how cold it was, enjoyed the lunch that Jan packed and made the boat ready to head back to port.

It was good to visit our friend after a long winter and we will surely be back a few more time this year. The Pinthis is a dive which I will never grow tired of.

Sunday, March 11th              Beverly Harbor

I didn't get to dive, however, I spent an interesting day with my friends Tim and Lisa Baxter of Diving Services Inc. as they installed Helix moorings in Beverly Harbor.

Tim Baxter of DSI rigged and ready to go to work

I received a call from Tim earlier in the week asking me if I would be available to come up and captain his boat. His regular captain was on vacation, and Tim wanted to take advantage of the good weather to install some moorings. Actually, the truth be told, I was simply there to cover the law with my ticket, as the boat was never really untied from the dock! However, it was a chance to get involved with a bit of commercial "hat" diving, which I had no experience with, as well as spend some time with friends.

Lisa in charge of life support and communications

I once thought that scuba diving was equipment intensive, that is until I learned about how much gear that Tim and others like him have to cart around. There's the compressor, filters and gas reserve (tank), mixing panel, communications board, water heater (for the suit), hoses, umbilical, video camera, battery packs for lights, Kirby Morgan Helmet, as well as a full scuba rig for back up! Whew . . . give me a set of 120's and a drysuit any day. The up side to all that gear is that the diver can work comfortably under water for extended periods of time. Well; as comfortable as one can be 30 feet down up to your waist in muck.

The Crew: Ian (center), Todd (right), and me

While this sort of diving may not have the excitement of finding and exploring shipwrecks, it was a very interesting and fun way of getting to know another side of diving. I also got to meet some new friends, Ian and Todd, as well as hang out with my old friends Tim and Lisa. And one thing that I will not forget from this day; Don't eat the Boss's sandwich!  Got that Todd?

Saturday, January 13th          Diving the Chester Poling

Capt. Dave giving Capt. Heather a hand with her scooter
Jan and I managed to sneak in a nice day of diving with NADE during this past dreary weekend. We made it out to our planned destination – the stern of the Chester Poling - through intermittent rain showers. The moderate chop leveled out as the day wore on and we enjoyed a dive with relatively good visibility – 10 to 15ft – considering the overcast conditions and sea state of the previous few days.

The warm dry cabin and the camaraderie of the other divers and Captains typically make winter diving aboard the Gauntlet a comfortable and fun experience, and this time was not an exception. As for the dive itself; it was the usual Poling dive – a cruise around the hull, a little poking around inside, and a visit to the humongous Codfish ensconced deeply under the hull. I must make note of a tiny feeling of inadequacy during the dive. With all the divers except Jan and me using scooters, I came to understand how the horse and buggy drivers of times past must have felt when they heard the rumblings of the Model A Fords overtaking them on the road. As we crept along exploring this steel reef we would hear and see these 21st century aquanauts zipping by, which led me to one unquestionable conclusion; those machines are VERY COOL! We also came to understand how true the mantra of scooter divers is – “It’s a sin to fin”!

Capt. Heather Knowles returns from exploring the Chester Poling
An added “bonus” to the dive was getting to meet a few members of Scuba Board's, "New England Lobster Divahs" group. It was a pleasure meeting Aaron, Roman, Scott, and Pat (please forgive any misspelling guys). It’s always fun when you can put a face to a name. And the pre-dive discussion about a particular type of surgery was really a kick!

It was a fun way to start out this year's diving adventures!

© 2007 Secret Squirrel Divers Inc. All Rights Reserved