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MAYDAY MAYDAY - Dive 256
And then came today. I had arranged to go with Matt to dive the wreck of the Seaford ferry, the TSS Seahaven out of Eastbourne today. This is the first time we had dived together in the sea for ages as we had both had work commitments etc. Steve's new boat, the "Channel Diver' is a gorgeous piece of kit, and I had fun admiring it. It is almost the same as "Neptune" in Dover, except being newer it has some bells and whistles on it that made an impression. As we got to the drop zone I could see the viz, as on all the recent Dover dives, was not going to disappoint, and this looked to be a good dive. My need for all things loot like was getting fired up, and here came my undoing. The Seaford ferry was going to remind me how fragile I am, and I think this was the closest I have ever come to a major incident.
We had both entered the water and swum down the shot line. After a little trip round the propeller after going right instead of left we got to the right area and started to explore. There were goodies to be had off this wreck, and edible wildlife galore. I saw an opening into the wreck, and Matt signalled that we were good to go into it. I tried to deploy my spool, and the grief began. The spool got tangled in my pocket and when I got it out and tied off I managed to wrap it, and my arm in mono filament fishing line. I got stressed and decided not to make it worse by going into the wreck, so I backed off. I cut myself free, and the cut the spool free and told Matt I wasn't going in that hole. Matt didn't get that message and thought I had said my stage wouldn't come off, so he unclipped the top clip. Shit. Bum clench. I reattached it, passed him my spool, and got sorted. Matt had a look in the same hole I had binned and decided there was nothing to see and joined me, but got caught in the mono and my spool line himself resulting in him freeing himself whilst I attempted to stow my now tangled spool (mono again). I actually lost my spool at this point - but didn't notice until much later. Knife in hand as the wreck is draped in mono we managed to get ourselves together and proceeded to the decks. I was a little happier now, and we bagged 2 big crabs for Matt, although this became a comms nightmare as I sailed off looking for plates, not realising that a bagger for the crabs would be nice. After this was sorted, we continued on, having a good look around, but in all the wrong places for anything that I would like to keep, when the ascent time had arrived. We had reached 27 minutes and it was time to go. My computer was providing my deco tables for me as I had set it for the gases I was breathing and had no time the night before after a late return from Dover. Now the real fear started. I was task loaded from diving Si's indies in a not great configuration (only 1 spg - the plan being to switch to the cylinder with the spg after about 15 minutes.). Matt was loaded as his mask kept flooding, and between the 2 of us we were heading into our own disasters. Clear heads would prevail, and this would be the test of whether we had clear heads under pressure. Matt set off his bottle SMB and started to ascend, and I very quickly checked out a whole plate which turned out to be a load of broken crap before I myself launched my bottle SMB. 38m and 46 minutes of stops showing (I knew they would come down when I gas switched so I was not too worried) and I fired the bag. I did nothing - the bottle was empty.
Fuck.
Matt was now a good 9m above me and rising, and I was trying to wrap the empty SMB so I could stow it. I couldn't do it, so stowed it for sorting at leisure, and forgot to lock it - so it deployed behind me whilst I searched for my spool....which I now found was lost in action. My mask kept flooding from a split in the nose from some diving mishap, I had no SMB up, I was still at 38m. Crap. I could see Matt about 15m above me so I swam up to him only to feel my foot getting tangled, so I stopped. I took a calm breath, and looked down to see about 20m of line attached to the wreck below me with no SMB in sight - lost in the wreck somewhere, and tangled good. I got the reel out, and tried to reel the SMB back to me but only succeeded in pulling myself back down to 38m.
Double Fuck.
Now mt heart was racing and I was really shitting myself. For the sake of a sodding piece of china and not stowing my gear away I was actually going to be in serious trouble if I didn't make the right choice right now.
Mask flooding, no spool and tangled on a deep wreck with my buddy 15m above me not knowing what the hell I was doing......I did the only thing I could. I calmed down, took out my knife, and cut the lot off me. SMB gone forever, but hey...I am here and not attached to the TSS Seahaven, so it must have been a good idea.
I finally hooked up with Matt having swum up to him in a sheer panic (but calmly nonetheless, surprisingly enough). We did our stops, and got out. Minus alot of gear, dented pride, and a lesson learnt.
New kit to be ordered tomorrow, and a good night's sleep for me.
And then came today. I had arranged to go with Matt to dive the wreck of the Seaford ferry, the TSS Seahaven out of Eastbourne today. This is the first time we had dived together in the sea for ages as we had both had work commitments etc. Steve's new boat, the "Channel Diver' is a gorgeous piece of kit, and I had fun admiring it. It is almost the same as "Neptune" in Dover, except being newer it has some bells and whistles on it that made an impression. As we got to the drop zone I could see the viz, as on all the recent Dover dives, was not going to disappoint, and this looked to be a good dive. My need for all things loot like was getting fired up, and here came my undoing. The Seaford ferry was going to remind me how fragile I am, and I think this was the closest I have ever come to a major incident.
We had both entered the water and swum down the shot line. After a little trip round the propeller after going right instead of left we got to the right area and started to explore. There were goodies to be had off this wreck, and edible wildlife galore. I saw an opening into the wreck, and Matt signalled that we were good to go into it. I tried to deploy my spool, and the grief began. The spool got tangled in my pocket and when I got it out and tied off I managed to wrap it, and my arm in mono filament fishing line. I got stressed and decided not to make it worse by going into the wreck, so I backed off. I cut myself free, and the cut the spool free and told Matt I wasn't going in that hole. Matt didn't get that message and thought I had said my stage wouldn't come off, so he unclipped the top clip. Shit. Bum clench. I reattached it, passed him my spool, and got sorted. Matt had a look in the same hole I had binned and decided there was nothing to see and joined me, but got caught in the mono and my spool line himself resulting in him freeing himself whilst I attempted to stow my now tangled spool (mono again). I actually lost my spool at this point - but didn't notice until much later. Knife in hand as the wreck is draped in mono we managed to get ourselves together and proceeded to the decks. I was a little happier now, and we bagged 2 big crabs for Matt, although this became a comms nightmare as I sailed off looking for plates, not realising that a bagger for the crabs would be nice. After this was sorted, we continued on, having a good look around, but in all the wrong places for anything that I would like to keep, when the ascent time had arrived. We had reached 27 minutes and it was time to go. My computer was providing my deco tables for me as I had set it for the gases I was breathing and had no time the night before after a late return from Dover. Now the real fear started. I was task loaded from diving Si's indies in a not great configuration (only 1 spg - the plan being to switch to the cylinder with the spg after about 15 minutes.). Matt was loaded as his mask kept flooding, and between the 2 of us we were heading into our own disasters. Clear heads would prevail, and this would be the test of whether we had clear heads under pressure. Matt set off his bottle SMB and started to ascend, and I very quickly checked out a whole plate which turned out to be a load of broken crap before I myself launched my bottle SMB. 38m and 46 minutes of stops showing (I knew they would come down when I gas switched so I was not too worried) and I fired the bag. I did nothing - the bottle was empty.
Fuck.
Matt was now a good 9m above me and rising, and I was trying to wrap the empty SMB so I could stow it. I couldn't do it, so stowed it for sorting at leisure, and forgot to lock it - so it deployed behind me whilst I searched for my spool....which I now found was lost in action. My mask kept flooding from a split in the nose from some diving mishap, I had no SMB up, I was still at 38m. Crap. I could see Matt about 15m above me so I swam up to him only to feel my foot getting tangled, so I stopped. I took a calm breath, and looked down to see about 20m of line attached to the wreck below me with no SMB in sight - lost in the wreck somewhere, and tangled good. I got the reel out, and tried to reel the SMB back to me but only succeeded in pulling myself back down to 38m.
Double Fuck.
Now mt heart was racing and I was really shitting myself. For the sake of a sodding piece of china and not stowing my gear away I was actually going to be in serious trouble if I didn't make the right choice right now.
Mask flooding, no spool and tangled on a deep wreck with my buddy 15m above me not knowing what the hell I was doing......I did the only thing I could. I calmed down, took out my knife, and cut the lot off me. SMB gone forever, but hey...I am here and not attached to the TSS Seahaven, so it must have been a good idea.
I finally hooked up with Matt having swum up to him in a sheer panic (but calmly nonetheless, surprisingly enough). We did our stops, and got out. Minus alot of gear, dented pride, and a lesson learnt.
New kit to be ordered tomorrow, and a good night's sleep for me.
