Reykjavik bay Iceland, summertime and sunny. We happy three had just returned to work from the 'mega-buffet' lunch (payed by the boss) at the Pizza house down the road. Full of plumptiousness we zoomed sea-ward in the Zodiac, the air was light and a veeery slow ocean roll came in from the Atlantic. I stood at the bow, holding onto the painter rope in that 'salty-seafarer' manner when the wierd thing appeared - not the 'thread' of this thread mind just something wierd. Way out in the distance a portion of the horizon 'raised' itself like a huge table-top, as if someone had pushed 300-400 metres of horizon several metres higher. "What the
deuce was that?" two of us cried in unison... or words similar (the boat driver had been obscured from it by some berk standing in the bows).
Five minutes later we are 6 killo's out in the bay, at the end of the new 42" diameter sewage pipe we had just completed laying. An ROV (rarely operative vehicle) had done a survey of the entire 6 'kliks' and boulders were noted close to the PVC pipeline at this location and we were to move then 6+ metres away.
The Plan: I'm to go in on SCUBA (no comms) with a 'cargo net' with which I'll 'lassoo' the biggest rock and at the given rope signal the boys on the boat will 'gun it' and drag the sucker away to the south - a quick fix, simple. Oh, with the previso that should any big wierd wave formations approach I would be recalled with some serious engine revs.
The Reality: I went in on SCUBA (no comms), found the first boulder - imagine two washing machines made of concrete and stuck together... thats the size. I bagged it and set about tying off the pulling rope. Now, that lazy ocean swell was still with me at 13 metres, washing back and forth making everything nice and competetive, just the way I like it
While tying-off the poly-rope I was carefull to keep to one side of the work area and hold of the rope with my left hand so it shouldn't drift behind me. Once secured, I pulled in the slack and gave the surface buoy a few bounces to initiate the pull. The Zodiac engine roars above as they come in to pick up the buoy... I back away and wait for Ayers Rock to take-off. Now it was around the point where the engine revved hard again that I noticed some rope out the corner of my right eye. Huh? No rope should or could be on that side... could it? Or for that matter wrapped around the back of me ie, all around my 1st stage and on down to several neat wraps around my contents gauge. "Oh flip.." I believe were the words as I began flying backwards in unison with some real loud engine noises. You know, I used to enjoy a bit of water-ski-ing but this was somehow different. I can honestly say it is the fastest I have ever travelled underwater and that includes planned towed-searches! So... how long do I have before I become the 'piggy' strung-out in the middle of a half-ton boat at speed and two washing machines? Not long by the way everything is whizzing passed my mask - which is barely attached, vibrating and lifting off my face.
The Luck: They (the other divers I was working with) used to laugh at how I carried a fishermans filleting knife in a kind of 'Quick Draw McGraw' style just by my right hip. I'm not sure which was the biggest laugh, the fact that it was a fish-gutting tool or the way it was worn? Either way, both comspired to save my neck... it was easy to whip-out and mega-bloody-sharp! With the tension applied between pillar valve/1st stage and HP gauge it took one... just one Ninja swipe... the rope un-ravelled itself from behind my head and I came to a full and abrupt 'stop'.
The second plan: We'll come back and do it with surface supplied gear and communications - Fcuk the quick-fix
The Wierd offshore Tsunami: It never materialised again and to this day no-one knows what it was
The 'Lesson Learned': It don't matter what kind of cuttlery your care to carry... just make sure its
really sharp!
Berko