1st November “We’ll be the Revolutionary council of Stoney Cove”.

[Freeflow]

Another evening of diving at the Mediterranean of the Midlands in proper night diving conditions saw Steve [Non YD] Derek [Ratcliffe] and I bumping into each other in the dark car park. Steve and I had got there at 1600 to sit in the pub over a hot chocolate and put the world to rights. We formed a revolutionary council to sort things out, with me being supreme-dictator-for life and Steve taking the role of cook, bottle washer and general hatchet man. Derek arrived after work and introductions all around completed we decided on a plan that involved getting Derek into the pit and some skeletons tied on to objects around the Cove.

Steve and I were on twin 12’s and Derek was on his single 12. I made up for size by being at half pressure and wanting to do a weight check in my main drysuit. Some of the 955 branch of Better Send Another Chopper were there as well, Colin and Harvey having a rare taste of Stoney and Andy [Fletch] taking Michelle in to lead her astray. As Fletch appeared to be drinking moonshine out of a jar, so I asked if Michelle wanted to dive with us instead, but she would rather dive with a drunk Fletch than a sober me. I asked if they were interested in diving on some wrecks to see if we could recover some starboard holes-as everyone grabs the portholes there must be a load of brass left on the right hand side of the ship. Colin, Harvey and Fletch all got the joke, but Michelle asked how you could collect holes. An explanation meant that the joke was rushed to A&E for attempted resuscitation, but it was unfortunately completely killed by Michelle.

We were just about to wander down to the waters edge when Fletch called me over, being unable to do up his drysuit hose. I don’t know if he has wrists like a three year old, or just wanted my manly hands on his chest, but I managed to connect it first try. After getting into my kit he was after the loan of a torch as his one had just packed up-not his night. In attempting to prove the old wives tale that bad luck comes in threes, he then caught up with me at the waters edge where he broke his fin strap. I had a spare in my toolkit so he toddled off to raid my car for parts.

Plinking in near the sadly still out of order bus stop we did a torch check and dropped to 6m where Steve and I bubble checked and reg swapped before heading off into the depths. I tried to play perch torpedo on the way down the road but the little fella was still awake, as was the medium pike that was resting on the wall to the left. I really wanted to find the road first go, so I made sure that I stayed in line with the sleepers as we crossed the 20m level.

Passing to the right of the pan pipes is a good indication that the road is being followed. At 26½m there was a distinct thermocline, and at 28m we stopped to see if Derek was still happy to continue. As he was, we descended to 30m where again, his willingness to go further was checked. From here the plan was for me to drop as deep as I needed to so as to be sure to find the box. I had been struck with inspiration on the surface and I had fitted a glow stick under the straps of my wrist slate. This made it easy to read the computer and gauges without using a torch.

Swimming down to 32m I headed at right angles to the road, but had to drop further to pick up some landmarks through the layer of silt. Derek decided that rather than stay above me as planned, he would like to follow my fins, although this may have been an excuse for a bit of ‘arm down for the depth’ on his computer. We found the box and admired the gnome garden, although the plaque to Caleb is now missing. I’m wondering if some idiot brass hunter thinks they will look all brave having ‘recovered’ the memorial. Hopefully I’m wrong and it will reappear soon.

With the box found, Steve tied his first skeleton onto the bottom of the box by the gnomes, and I placed mine at the bottom of the line. The planned ascent along the line to 20m went well, but on checking Derek’s gas at the top I decided that we should ascend the pole near the BOP rather than the road. We set off and at 10m I fired up my DSMB as the top of the pole is at 8-9m rather than a convenient 6. On surfacing we were right in front of the rescue boat, but luckily for us there wasn’t a shout.

Fletch and Michelle were already back up top, and no further disasters had befallen them. I gave Derek his pocket money so he and Steve could get the hot chocolates in while I discussed kit with Fletch. The air temperature was dropping noticeably by now and I was feeling a little bit of torso chill when we decided to jump back in to use the rest of the gas. My fins had started to freeze to the car roof, so the divers who prefer warmer clines will be either travelling or hanging up their fins about now.

As Derek was below 100 bar, a quick 6m crayfish hunt was planned. It was gone 2030 when we hit the water, and we had a fin around the 6m ledge, pub and Nautilus looking out for the little blighters. On the way there we passed a reel that was attached to a rock at one end and an inflated SMB at the other. As this seemed like too good an opportunity to miss, my second skeleton was attached to the line. There was a lot of broken glass around the pub, but we didn’t have the means to collect it. Next dive I will try to remember to bring a strong plastic bag to tidy the place up a bit. Steve deposited his second skeleton on a section of pipe, and Derek his only one on the tail of the sub.

On the way back to the slipway we passed a few big perch-rugby ball big-and then a duck swam over us, too far away to tickle it’s feet though. I dropped my weights and then purged the regs to drop the tank pressure below 30 bar. I could still sink with the torch attached, but not when it was removed, like I can in the ‘spare’ suit.

Dekitting by moonlight and my portable fluorescent tube bank Fletch made a small pile of all the kit he had ponced off me earlier. It was pointed out that the young lady who walked past us wearing a swimming cossie and towel was brave-not for wetsuit diving in November, but for being partially undressed in front of me. As Steve left Derek and I went to the pub, where he did his Queen impression. Not singing like Freddie, but not carrying any money with him, so I had to get the drinks in again. It was noted that he had a more expensive drink than he would have if he were paying for it.

On the way back up the car park Derek had his revenge on my taking the mickey out of him with the barmaid. I saw a car and in the darkness and from where I was walking it looked like it was parked at random I the middle of the car park. In fact it was correctly parked, and Derek let me make an arse of myself as the people from the car were directly behind us. Thanks Derek, next time…

Dive data

Dive 1

35.1m
30 min
RMV 15.1

SI 1h 12 min

Dive 2

8.5m
19 min
RMV 11.5

[DIVE BUDDHA]

i hadnt noticed that the plaque was missing !!! well not the last time i was down there !!! sounds like u all had an ace nite dive ! which reminds me maybe need to do some silvafish nite dives ?