Sports Diver trips hit different. We don’t need no education – we’re already happy to smash a drift, go into deco, get pizza and do it all again the next day.
Let’s introduce the Famous Five:
- Thibault, Dive Manager, proud inventor of the Delayed Surface Marker Baguette (actually a regular DSMB with a French flag attached – same thing);
- Dan, our unanimously agreed expert in all topics, diving and otherwise;
- Me, aka Chris, always the first to bring up the topic of food after a day of diving;
- Cara, whose impression as a benign youngster belies a grit and skill more becoming of a navy diver;
- And Tobias, Diving Officer, whose impression as a navy diver belies the grit and skill of a frightened scallop.
(Only joking Tobias, please don’t turn my cylinder off.)
The days leading up to the trip were a washout, so you’d forgive us for disbelieving Thibault when he said that we were onto something good with the weather. But even a stopped clock is right twice a day: ‘lo and behold, we were greeted with sunny skies for the journey down, and a fridge full of beer for the arrival. Not a bad start.
Day 1 – Forty For Tea
A big day for the likes of Dan and Cara – everyone remembers their first time at 40, except for those particularly susceptible to narcosis. Luckily we’d all slept well and weren’t targeting a particularly aggressive ropes off, though the beloved and mischievous RIB Percy still had a few tricks up its tubes. One replacement hand pump later, we were ready for our first site: the Aerials.
The goal was to reach 30 metres, enjoy life at the bottom, execute a planned decompression stop, then eat a sandwich. Tobias gave us a few tips on all of the above and we agreed a detailed plan on the boat before hitting the water.
When my group arrived at the bottom, there was a slight snag: the bottom was closer to 35m than 30m. Confused about what this meant for our detailed plan, we stayed a few metres above the bottom so we could see it, but without going too far beyond the planned deco. It was a nice drift dive, but this halfway house was sub-optimal for a few reasons.
- It still invalidated the 30m dive plan.
- It exposed us to stronger current than the 35m sea floor would have.
- Tobias, at the bottom, managed to collect scallops and we didn’t. Oops. Which led to
- We had to execute our “a little deeper” backup plan anyway, so the sea floor would have been a better place to be. Lesson learned, numero uno, but no matter – it was a promising start to the weekend.
The other group were not quite so lucky with their dive – a jammed reel, poor visibility and a miscommunication underwater led to a near-separation and an aborted dive. Some apologies and the promised sandwiches later, we were ready to head over to the next site.
It was time for the big one – Dan and Cara’s depth progression to 40m at the P555 submarine.
Lying in 35-45 metres of water, the P555 was a prime target for a neatly delivered shot. Dan, the expert, dropped it precisely on cue after Thibault and Tobias had figured out which of the three available GPS coordinates corresponded to our submarine friend. We briefed, geared up, hit the water, and… there was no chance of reaching the shot. Too much current.
That’s a bit weird – isn’t this supposed to be near slack? No matter – a cheeky tow later and we were ready to get ourselves down the (alarmingly diagonal) shot line.
Myself and Tobias exchanged looks and agreed to pull on the shot line as the only realistic way of getting down and staying fashionable. Dan, this dive’s leader who had a little less experience in currents of this magnitude and was already very fashionable, decided to fin his way down. The advantages of our laziness became apparent when Dan stopped for breath at 20 metres – but we were only halfway there. We soldiered on, and reached 40 with no wreck in sight – only current. What had happened?
Tobias went a little further to investigate the state of the end of the shot line as we hung uncomfortably, breathing a little too much, before summoning him back with an unceremonious “get me outta here” light signal. We turned, executed our deco, and discussed what had happened.
No wreck, no slack, only a shot that had been pulled along by the current. Well, there was still a dive to be had by the other group – but the shot line wasn’t exactly a prime example of the south coast’s subaqua serenity.
They went for it anyway: if nothing else, it would get Cara to 40 metres, and the shot needed lifting. They found a much nicer dive site – actually a different spot altogether, as the shot had drifted further towards an area with an interesting sea floor. They found some nice starfish, lifted the shot and sighed with relief at the surface that this dive had gone a little closer to plan, despite the lack of a P555.
(Much later, the mistake was discovered: one online source claims slack was HW+3, while the others put it closer to HW+4. Guess which we used? Lesson learned, numero dos.)
Still, the objective of the day had been completed: Cara and Dan were both signed off to 40 metres!
We celebrated their achievements with a large quantity of half price pizza, and a respectable dent in the beer fridge. Two dives made a good day. What’s next?
Day 2 – A Very English Shambles
We made ropes off bang on time (French time, that is) and after a very professional photo shoot we headed out to the Ledge, where we decided to split and explore two dive sites: the Caves and the Ledge itself. This was the first time anyone in the group had dived the Caves, which are a group of caverns without much overhead close to the Ledge.
After the excitement of the previous day, one group opted for a gentle drift on the Ledge, finding a huge crab hiding in a hole (lucky it stayed home, as it was edible) and reminding themselves that diving wasn’t all about deep dark shot lines in strong currents.
The Caves group explored their way past freedivers, swimmers, and rock climbers, under mountain bikers and horse riders, in a daring bid to showcase scuba diving to a broader audience and qualify it for the Olympics. While they didn’t manage that, they did discover an Ocean Diver-friendly site that Tobias swore to return to on his next trip.
It was on this third dive that Thibault revealed his great invention that he had been teasing for days (including by making it in front of us): the Surface Marker Baguette, patent pending! After peeling it off the DSMB when he reached the surface, the French flag flew proudly over La Manche on French National Day. This was the first indication that England were doomed at the Euros final that evening, but me and Dan pretended not to notice.
The ominously named Shambles was the fourth and final dive of the trip. We carefully measured the location and drift, and dropped ourselves neatly north of the area of interest. Expecting a short swim south, we naturally started drifting strongly north. We decided to see what we see – which turned out to be sand and broken shells. The next group dropped the other side of the Shambles, to get a better look – at the sand and broken shells. But it was a good exercise nonetheless. Thibault had a whale of a time managing his CCR buoyancy over the undulating dunes in the current, and for the rest of us it made for a fun roller coaster to end the trip.
Finally, after driving past the Portland Races, it was a race against time: could me and Dan make it back in time for the final? Thanks to some quick unloading and a lot of kindness from the others, we managed a quick turnaround and sped back home, each arriving just in time for another shambles: England vs Spain at the Euros.
Lesson learned, numero tres: if you want sporting satisfaction, don’t rely on the football: get out and go diving!
