Saturday, June 28th                      The U-853 & the Heroine

Not a lot to say about these dives other than IT WAS A FANTASTIC DAY to be out diving! After clearing the walls at the East Gap, Harry, Chris, Mike, and I made a bee-line to the wreck of the 853. With the calm conditions, I wanted to get to the wreck as soon as possible but the long swells kept our speed under 30 mph after we launched off of one of them and almost lost Mike. Racing a tanker to the site, we arrived in time to watch the huge vessel almost run over the U-Boat’s mooring buoys, which got us to wondering about what it would be like tied to the wreck with a vessel like that passing so closely. Once the wake passed, Harry picked one of the floats out of the emerald green water, and after securing it we swore that we could see nearly fifty feet down the line. In no time Mike and Chris were on their way down to the last casualty of World War II resting 130fsw below us. I followed minutes later while Harry stayed aboard to do boat duty. Unfortunately, ear problems kept him out of the water this weekend. At 80fsw the shape of the sunken vessel materialized before my eyes. I let go of the Gerri line, not even making it all the way to the mooring line, before breaking free and lazily drifting down to spot just forward of the conning tower; its sawed off stainless steel periscope neck shining in the clear green-hued water. As I checked my gear and was deciding which way to go, I was greeted by several large codfish as they retreated from their hiding places amongst the framework between the pressure and outer hull. With 30 plus feet of visibility I was torn between cruising along the outside of the former war machine or venturing inside; I chose the latter – at least for the first part of my dive.

Entering the forward blast hole, I ducked under the torn steel plating and worked my way through the next compartment. There, I took in the somber sight of the bones belonging to the unfortunate young men who lost there lives on that fateful day on May 6th, 1945. Having been to the torpedo room on previous dives, I opted to turn and exit this steel sarcophagus and enjoy the exceptional visibility outside. Once freed of the U-Boat’s confines I sank over the edge of the hull and made my way aft. Sticking my head into the blast hole on the starboard quarter, I peered into the diesel engine room, imagining what life aboard may have been like with the hot oil-spewing engines running; the crew fighting off choking on the fume soaked air; and their commander desperately trying to evade the Allied navy on their last day alive. Coming back to the present moment, I found myself now looking up at the aft deck-gun mount. I went up and over to the port side and picked my way along the sloughed off plates of the outer hull, working my way back towards the bow. Periodically looking up at the coning tower looming like a sentinel in the green sun-streaked water, I thought of how terrifying that sight must have been to our sailors and merchant mariners. With my time on the bottom drawing near, I came up to the mooring were I tied a useless strobe - useless because the waters were so bright – stowed it and casually worked my way back to the sunshine. The only negative aspect to an otherwise perfect dive was the sight of Chris pouring sea water out of his camera housing as I climbed onto the swim step.

Back aboard it was decision time. Do we stay and do another dive here, or move to another site?. After a short discussion, we all were in agreement that we would set out for the Heroine. Finding no mooring in place, we arrived and marked the wreck on the sounder. After establishing our direction of drift, we approached from the appropriate angle and hooked our quarry on the first try. Atta boy Harry, it's all in how you toss the hook! Like men on a mission, one by one we assembled our gear and headed for the bottom. This was to be the first time Mike dived this site and he was looking forward to exploring a "new" wreck. For Chris and me, we find this former sailing / fishing vessel, now lying in 80 fsw to be one of the prettiest dives in RI. This day was not a disappointment. With a bright 30 feet of visibility and a mild current running from stern to bow the conditions made for an easy and enjoyable dive. Starting at the broken rubble at the stern I made my way along the starboard side of the wreck and paused to free a Tautog from a dirty hunk of balled up netting tangled in the shadow of the ships imposing boiler. Working my way along broken down steel frames and rubble I came upon the partially intact bow canting steeply to starboard. Actually, it's lying on its starboard side with an upside-down anchor adorning the weather deck, its shank stuck into the sandy bottom. Around the stem I swam to head back towards the hook affixed to the wreck at amidships. I took my time checking out the voids between and under the missing hull plates, looking for a large resident Conger Eel that once inhabited this section of the Heroine. It was simply a pretty and relaxing dive, and before I knew it my time with this old friend was over. I rigged the hook to break away and made my way back to the surface.

While stowing my gear and readying the boat to head in I think it was Chris that asked if we had to go in. My response was; "yes, we're all out of gas", referencing the fact that we cannot dive any more anyway. To which he replied that I have to get a compressor for the boat! That's the kind of day it was. One that we wished didn't have to end.

With light south-west winds and gentle seas in the forecast, Harry, Jan, and I set out for the wreck of the USS Bass. With a small boat we have to pick our days carefully to venture off shore 25 miles and this looked like a perfect day to try one of our favorite dives. Once we cleared the west gap of the Harbor of Refuge at Point Judith, we set the Bass as the destination in the GPS and enjoyed a 25mph run across calm seas under cerulean blue skies. In just under an hour we were over the former torpedo testing target now lying 160 feet below us. As luck would have it, there was a stout mooring line in place marked by a gleaming white pot-buoy. With not a soul in sight we tied into the wreck, raised the flags, and set the dive ladder. Looking 30 feet down the mooring line we anticipated that we would enjoy great visibility while exploring this 300+ foot hulk resting on the sandy ocean floor. While getting his gear together, Jan was the first to spy an oncoming boat. Being off shore with no boat traffic per se, when one sees another boat heading towards them, it is usually for a good reason. They also want to be where you are - in this case, over the wreck - either to fish or dive. For this boat, it was to dive. The oncoming visitor was the vessel Canned Air, operated by Captain Wayne Gordon. Considering the size of his vessel relative to ours, I thought it would be best if I dropped the mooring so that he could tie in and I would tie off to his stern. Capt. Gordon agreed and we executed the plan. For us, the benefit of being tied to his stern was that I could dive without waiting for Harry and Jan to return as there would be someone topside to watch the boat. For him, being tied to the mooring meant that his contingent of divers would not have to traverse two boat lengths to descend the line to the wreck.

Jan and Harry splashed first and I followed minutes behind. While descending the line my first glimpse of the wreck came at about 130fsw. I could see the cloud of a diver's exhaust bubbles around the massive conning tower. I let go of the line and drifted down and settled near the top of the wreck nearly 30 feet aft of the conning tower. Looking up, I could see the mooring tie-in point where I thought that the periscope may have once been located. I dropped over the side to find the bottom swirling with Red Hake and Ling Fish, their masses parting as I settled near the bottom. Working my way along the base of this steel wall I headed towards the break where the bow separated from the rest of the vessel. The bow now lies in the sand nearly eighty feet away. Peering into the bronze trimmed hatchway nearly centered in the otherwise solid bulkhead, I could see from the disturbed silt that there had been visitors to the innards of the former submarine. I continued around the perimeter, sometimes venturing as far as 30 feet or so from the imposing hulk while searching along the sandy bottom. Several years earlier I found a barnacle encrusted dive light here that lit once I changed the batteries! After 18 minutes I found myself approaching the propeller guards jutting out from the hull like some sort of sub-sea jungle gym. Ascending to the top of the hull, I made my way back to the tie in point and began my ascent. As an illustration of how large this wreck is; there were no less than seven divers in the water when I hit the water, yet I only saw one on the line on my way down and one other when I arrived. Though there were five other divers on the wreck, I was alone for the majority of my dive. The only notation to an otherwise perfect dive were the painful leg cramps that I developed while hanging. While trying to stretch the cramp out, I somehow pulled on my neck seal and thus allowed a bit of water to run down my back which created a slight amount of discomfort while on the line. After rejoining Harry and Jan, we had a bite  to eat, then we cast off from our host to head for the wreck of the Idene.

Arriving on the numbers we found the unmistakable image of the wreck showing on the bottom sounder. After a few misses with the hook we finally got a hold of the old girl - or so we thought. Harry was sitting this dive out so I rolled in first and had Jan following closely behind. I arrived at the bottom to find sand! Upon closer inspection I could see that one tine of the hook had grappled a sand covered piece of steel plating. Looking up from the hook I was glad to see the starboard quarter of the Idene, not 25 feet away. I tied the hook in and set out to explore the wreck. As I got closer to the ships hull I saw several large striped bass commingling with a large school of curious dog fish. Before setting out to explore the site, I turned back to get a bearing on exactly where the hook was in relation to the wreck. I then swam along the stern and around to the port side of the former fishing trawler. I entered the port side passageway and followed the dark corridor aft to find the barely discernable companionway at the stern, now completely covered with a myriad variety of marine organism, including one huge starfish feeding on one of the many attached mussles. I paused in what can be referred to as the vessel's poop and watched the ballet of dog fish through the Idene's rectangular port lights. Continuing my excursion through the confines of this artificial reef, I headed forward through the starboard passageway to emerge besides the vessels gaping fish-hold amidships, where I came across Jan who was heading towards the bow. 

At about that time I realized that I was getting cold, which seemed odd, considering that the water was much warmer than what I was used to diving in over the previous weeks. I would discover upon surfacing that my suit was leaking and that I was getting wet. The leak was small enough that I didn't feel its effect until my undergarments were thoroughly soaked. Had I done a proper equipment check before the dive, I would have found the source of my current discomfort. However, I still had a nice hang, though chilly, with my dog fish companions and an encounter with a massive school of sand lance which was quickly scattered by a band of marauding bluefish.  Back aboard Cetacea we stored our gear, popped the hook, and enjoyed a smooth quick ride back to Point Judith. We relaxed and soaked up the glorious sunshine as we made our way up through the pond to our launching point in the shadow of South County Hospital. We all agreed that it was days like this which make it worth tolerating our sometimes arduous New England winters.

Saturday was another fine weekend day to be on the water. Near mirror calm sea conditions greeted us as Chris M., Harry D., and I left Marshfield's Green Harbor and set out for the Pinthis. As anticipated, we found a mooring buoy that Capt. Fran of the Daybreaker thoughtfully left last week. Once hooked up, Harry and Chris suited up and hit the water. That left me with plenty of time to casually get my act together and chill out while waiting their return. Harry was the first back aboard with a report of decent visibility and chilly temps in the low 40's, which is typically expected for this site. I rolled in after getting them both back aboard and was immediately thankful for the cooling effect that Mass Bay's chilly water has on an overheated dry-suit diver. Descending the near vertical mooring line the wreck came into view at about 70 fsw. I settled onto the bottom where we were tied in on the bow. The mooring was affixed to the half buried anchor at the former starboard bow of the wreck, now a jumbled mass of disarticulated steel beams and hull plating. I had nearly 20 feet of visibility and set out to circumnavigate this turtled oil tanker resting on the gravel and boulder strewn bottom. While enjoying the company of schools of small codfish and the numerous Cunners, I periodically stopped to cut away floating former mooring lines and gather lead sinkers lost by unfortunate fishermen. The winter seems to have not been too tough on the ole girl as she appeared to be in nearly the same condition as when we left her last year. With her holds now nearly wide open with missing hull plates and her stern beaten to nearly the level of the sea bed, she is a much different dive today than when we had to crawl under the starboard rail to gain access to the interior. Arguably, it is a safer dive nowadays. With my BT just getting me into deco I decided to head up as I knew we were doing two dives on this site today; I would be back in a couple of hours. Once I rejoined Harry and Chris we enjoyed a leisurely SI while sharing this dive's, as well as past experiences and snacking on sandwiches. Harry sat out the second dive so Chris and I hit the water again to experience another enjoyable foray exploring the bones of the Pinthis.
 

Finally; we had a decent weekend to head out and do a real wreck dive. I hooked up with my buddies, Harry and Jan, and we set our sights on the wreck of the tug boat Baleen outside of Boston Harbor. NOAA’s forecasted 2-3 foot seas were absent as we cruised from Weymouth on glass smooth rollers undulating like putting greens. The day could only be better if there was a mooring on the wreck and the visibility was good. At a hundred yards from the site our first wish came true as Jan spied the white pot-buoy with a large loop sticking out of the water, a sure sign of a mooring. Once we tied off and set the gerri line our second wish seemed to come true as we could almost see where the mooring and gerri line came together at almost 100 feet down!

In no time Harry and I rolled in. Together we descended in clear view of one another even when we were parted by as much as 50 feet. However, New England reality quickly reared its head when passing 100 fsw or so we entered what can best be described as diving through the outflow of the Boston sewerage system. With a 50 watt halogen fired up I could barely see the top of Harry’s head as I was above him with his fins at my chest. We settled on the wreck at the mooring’s tie-in point and affixed a strobe. I could see that we were tied near to a rail, so I set off following it with Harry in tow. With the vis as bad as it was, the plan was to negotiate my way around the site using the rail. That way we would be sure to get back to our line. Periodically, I would turn to check my partner and find him at my fin tips, only to see his HID light looking like a glowing tangerine. We worked our way along what I thought was the port rail. After about 5 minutes of seeing nothing but gunk, sea snot, and only rusty metal plating within 12 inches of my light, I thought that I would drop down to the bottom and head back aft and check out the counter stern, screw and rudder. I also thought that perhaps the visibility may be better . . . it wasn’t.

Alighting on the gravely bottom at the base of this steel wall, we headed back towards the stern; I soon realized that I was heading the wrong way and that we were heading towards the bow. We were not tied in at the stern, as I originally thought, but the bow. Like a distant lightning storm on a dark August night, looking up I could see the faint pulsating flashes of my strobe. At that point Harry and I ascended to the deck and looked at each other as if to say; “what the heck are we doing here”? With that, we decided to punch-out and leave this freezing bowl of stew and head to the surface. Once we hit 100 fsw we had lovely conditions with great vis to hang in and do our stops.

After apprising Jan of the conditions he decided not to do the dive. With all things considered, it was still a good day to get out and dive. Gearing up, diving in less than favorable conditions, doing gas switches and stops, is never an exercise in futility. It merely makes diving on the “good” days that much easier, and more importantly; safer. Hopefully, the next time that we are out there, the good visibility will follow us to the bottom.

Next week; the Pinthis . . . let’s add another layer of underwear!

During the summer of 2006, while doing research for his upcoming book about shipwrecks in Massachusetts, Gary Gentile joined Harry, my brother Jim, and me to dive some of the wrecks that he wanted to cover in the book. On one such outing, after diving the wreck of the tug boat Baleen, Gary wanted to search for the wreck of the naval minesweeper YMS 14. We knew that some local divers were diving the deck gun of the vessel, but those numbers were being closely guarded. However, through his many contacts and resources, Gary had acquired some numbers for the YMS that he wanted to check out. With gleeful anticipation of finding a possible virgin wreck site we dropped divers on the numbers and did numerous searches during several outings. Crawling along the bottom of Boston Harbor on more dives than I want to think about, not to mention the innumerable searches that Gary did while we hovered on the surface, we found nothing but gravel and rocks.

After leaving us, Gary went on to meet and dive with other people throughout the area, one of the them was Marcie Bilinski. Marcie helped Gary survey a large number of sites that he wanted to cover for his Shipwrecks of Massachusetts - North  book, as well as provide Gary with the locations of several others, including working with him to find the location of the main wreckage of the YMS-14.

On this day, Sunday, May 26th, Gary and Marcie joined Harry and me on my boat to dive the  remnants of the former wooden hulled minesweeper, YMS-14. The YMS was sunk due to a collision with the U.S. destroyer Herndon within the outer reaches of Boston Harbor on January 11th, 1945. Finally, I would get to see this wreck! Gary and Marcie had mapped out wreckage from the stern area rudder posts to the forward deck gun. There was no doubt that we would see something.

After arriving over the numbers we cruised over the sites  but did not mark much wreckage on the bottom finder. That was not unusual, as this site was blasted with explosives and wire dragged. While waiting for the flood tide to commence we talked about how the wreckage was dispersed along the bottom and which directions we should search in to possibly find more and larger sections of this once 136' long naval vessel. Deciding to dive the stern and head towards the bow, we dropped the hook on the numbers and made ready to dive. Harry entered first with me minutes behind him. On the bottom I was greeted with 10 to 15 feet of visibility and 41 degree water temperature . . . and rocks, lots of rocks. Harry had tied off and was heading straight out from the hook, I tied in and took a right from the anchor for about 200 feet . . . more rocks. I returned to the anchor and headed to the right again but at an additional 45 degree bearing off of my first track. Later I found out that Harry had done the same. We did a search of the entire area ahead and to the right of the anchor point. We had each ventured a bit to the left but the bottom was dropping off and would have put us in deeper water than the wreck was known to lie. On this dive, I had to be content with seeing rocks, and one large rust encrusted steel wheel at the end of my dive . . . more wreckage must be near.

On the surface we informed Marcie and Gary of our findings and decided to move the boat until we did indeed see something on the sounder that looked like wreckage. In minutes I spotted a form that almost certainly was low lying wreckage and asked Harry to drop the hook. Looking at the plotter I saw that we were only about 50 feet to the LEFT of where Harry and I dived and had searched to the right! This time, we later learned that in fact, we were into wreckage. Marcie and Gary enjoyed an interesting dive around the stern and the degaussing generator of the minesweeper. Gary also ran a line to the forward gun mount. In discussing why we were off using the same set of numbers that Marcie used to dive this site, we decided that perhaps the difference was due to the different brands of GPS units that Marcie and I had as well as the variance in degree of accuracy of GPS systems on different days. In any case, I now have "good" numbers and am looking forward to doing this dive again and not seeing merely rocks. Even though I didn't get to see this wreck, it was still a great day to be out diving with friends.

Finally, after a month of blown out weekends, Jan and I managed to make it out to the Neptune. Sliding the boat into the water under the Route 24 bridge in the Tiverton Boat Basin, we enjoyed a smooth run out to the wreck with a light northerly wind at our backs. For a steel wreck with plenty of structure, this wreck usually gives me fits while trying to hook her and this time was no exception! With a slight breeze pushing against a slight current we were stationary while our hook bounced upon her decks. Eventually after several near tie-ins we got a hold of her for good. I also dropped a shot line that would become a mooring while we floated over the top of the wreck. Once on the wreck I would secure the mooring and send up the hook.

After setting the dive ladder and raising the flags I quickly donned my rig and headed to the bottom. At 70 fsw the bow of the Neptune came into view and I could see that we were secured to the wreck with only one tine of the grapnel hooked on an abandoned lobster trawl line. As the hooked bobbed up and down the play in the line was all that kept the hook from detaching itself as the line rose up and down with the hook. After tying the hook in with a length of line I had purposefully brought for the job,  I set out to find the shot line. I did one complete circuit around this former fishing vessel's deck and found nothing! with the 15 feet of visibility and great ambient light I was sure that I would find the line easily. I know that I dropped it on the wreck! My next course of action was to drop to the sand and circle the wreck while keeping it within sight and scanning the bottom for the shot weight. Checking out the rudder and screw I startled a white-chinned Tataug and a few small Black Sea Bass. I just about completed a trip around the entire site when I spied what looked like a lost weight belt near the ships hull. It took a few moments to register that there was the shot line! It just missed the deck and was lying against the hull only a few feet from our hook. The line's dark color was lost in the green background of the surrounding waters. I set the mooring and sent the hook to the surface. I spent a bit more time peering into the holds and looking over the gallows frame and just enjoying a wreck dive once again.

After a short pleasant hang I re-joined Jan and clued him in on where to find some table fare with his spear gun. Sure enough, he returned with a nice fat fish for his dinner. After cleaning the catch we worked our way back up the Sakonnet River while relishing the fresh ocean air, clear blue skies and warm spring sunshine.

Saturday, April 26th                          Potters Cove . . . ?

Well; the original intent was to run out to the Neptune on Saturday and place a mooring on it for a planned trip next week. Harry, Jan and I were looking forward to our first real wreck dive of the season. All was good as we passed Newport on our way out. However, once we rounded the bend outside of Castle Hill the forecasted 2 footers were nowhere to be found. It seems they sent their twice sized big brothers out to play. We slogged our way to the site with the seas dead on our bow. Eventually we came over the wreck several miles off of Sakonnet Point only to stuff the bow into a solid six footer. After a brief consultation with the crew about throwing the hook in the present conditions and committing ourselves, we decided to err on the side of caution and beat feet back to the bay. With not many options to our liking within the bay, Jan wanted to try to grab some quahogs. So we dropped into a known spot and proceeded to grab a couple of pecks of bigs for chowder. With the visibility at 20 feet or so, and water temps hovering at 47, it was a pleasant dive playing with spider crabs and gathering Mercenaria mercenaria. We stopped by the wall at CC and talked to a lone fisherman hanging out at the end. He reported VERY slow action, but some none the less regarding the Tataug bite.

While we didn't get a wreck dive in . . . the chowder for dinner was very good!

We splashed the boat at Allen's Harbor yesterday and ran down the west passage to check out the Crane Barge. The clear water at the dock seemed to bode well for good visibility at the dive site. It was overcast and quite brisk until about 8:30 when the sun burnt off the morning haze and it warmed up nicely. Of course tooling down the bay a 40 mph didn't help the chill factor. We hooked the wreck whilst the tide was still on the flood and got my buddy Harry ready to roll in as soon as the current eased enough. With a small window of slack water, his BT was only to be about 30 minutes so as to allow me to get a dive in. Harry hit the water and quickly disappeared into what looked like decent vis. However, upon his return he informed me that the visibility was only 3 to 5 feet at best, and the site was still devoid of fish. A bit early still for Tataug. Harry also reported that, as suspected by what I saw on the depth sounder, the crane has fallen from the deck of the barge and is lying on the bottom beside it. Deck plates have also started to slough off and are strewn about the sea floor.

With the less than great conditions at this familiar site, and having played a bit too hard the night before, I decided to bag my dive and we headed in for breakfast. Over all, it was a successful sea trial for the boat's first run of the year, and a good morning to be out on the water again.

Oh . . . and the pancakes were great at the Breakfast Nook!

A fortuitous phone call on Saturday had me lined up to dive with a group of friends on Sunday morning. I say fortuitous because I was just leaving B & M Distributing with my new OMS "donut" wing to dive single cylinders on my back-plate when the phone rang. I was in a hurry to try the new gear and an invitation to dive at Fort Wetherill was perfect timing. I would be joining a group from the Old Colony Amphibians. Fred, Alan, Bob, and Bill belong to a little sub-section of the club known as the Winter Dive Club. A group of members make it a point to dive at least once each month throughout the winter. Fred was kind enough to give me a call, so Sunday morning found me in the water!

The dive was not much to write about, I didn't break 20fsw and spent about 20 minutes in the water. There was between six and eight feet of visibility with a water temperature running at around 38 degrees. After playing with a couple of Hermit Crabs and messing with the gear a bit I was more than ready to get out after 15 minutes. Sometimes, the dive isn't what makes the outing. In this case it was the time spent outside on a sun filled winter morning hanging out with a good bunch of guys. It sure beats the heck out of doing chores around the house!