A confession – I mainly like scuba diving because of its similarities to the video game series Pokémon.

Hear me out. You travel around the region, exploring different areas, gaining experience by diving (or, in Pokémon, battling). When you’re ready, you can try for your next certification (or Gym Badge). Sometimes you learn a new technique (or a new move) on the way that helps you. You keep a log of the weird and wonderful creatures you’ve seen in your dive log (or Pokédex).

(As far as I can tell, the main difference is that Pokémon trainers “want to be the very best, like no-one ever was”, while most divers are convinced they already are..!)

At the end of each game in the Pokémon series, you must clear a gauntlet of difficult battles – the Elite Four of the Pokémon League – before challenging the Champion for his title. And so my diving season ended with Tobias’s Deep trip: four difficult dives, with varying themes, requiring careful planning and execution. Could one of us clear Tobias’s gauntlet and challenge him for the title of Diving Officer?

It wouldn’t be easy. From the start, key items had to be located before we could make progress – such as bedsheets. None of us knew the caravan wasn’t fitted with them, so it was lucky that Richard messaged us just as we were passing a large Tesco.

We arrived under the dark blue sky to the hilltop caravan (an Indigo Plateau), compared dive plans, and organised our bags. Soon, we were ready to take a rest, restore ourselves to full health, and face the first day.

(Author’s note: this trip report is full of rather obscure Pokémon references, but knowledge of the series is not a requirement to read and enjoy, we promise.)

Day 1 – Revenge of the P555

Returning for a moment to the theme of “fours” – how does a 40 minute, 40m dive with a force 4 wind sound to you?

We made our way to Portland Marina, my dive plan repeating in my mind like a broken record. Down to 40 metres. 17 minutes bottom time. Then head up and do 10 minutes of deco. Total runtime 30 minutes. Not too long but not too shabby, with depth and time to spare for the worst case.

The important bit, as imprinted in my skull by Tobias and Thibault – T&T, the dynamite combo – was my minimum gas and time to surface. Once I had 125 bar left, or once the surface was 15 minutes away, it was time to go home. Counting the worst case, I only had a single cylinder to get me through up to 20 minutes of bottom time at up to 43 metres plus deco, while the others had twinsets or sidemount. I’ve refused to take the extra courses to work with multiple cylinders because I knew I would end up buying another wing, another set of regulators, and all the trimmings. My wallet still needs therapy after the last time that happened.

By the time our stuff was set up on the boat, it was pretty clear that the force 4 winds were here as predicted. The waves got steadily choppier as we surfed through them, until we reached a point where I was thinking of already calling the dive. Psychic Tobias read my mind and soon stopped the boat, giving his trademark jovial “all… right!”

“It’s decision time.”

After some back and forth, we decided that the original plan of the Salsette was less likely to be a success than the P555, which was a little closer and had diveable waters guaranteed, because we could practically see it. A shorter travel time was also a benefit, as most of the boat was starting to feel a bit queasy on the waves.

The P555 was sunk on purpose to test sonar. This makes it a “notoriously difficult wreck to shot”, according to Divernet. But this wasn’t our first time.

Tobias knew where to go as me and Thibault prepared the shot, measuring out plenty of line. I was pretty optimistic about how we dropped it, and I had reason: after our descent, the shot took us straight to a huge submarine.

Upon seeing this, I was expecting some kind of victory music, but there was an eerie quiet. I was very excited to be here, probably amplified by a few martinis worth of narcosis, but the feeling was mostly from the success of executing my biggest dive ever. It was the deepest I’ve gone with the most deco I’ve ever done, with a fantastic wreck to explore with Team Aqua, Martin and Tobias.

We had to go a little over our main plan to see the wreck properly, but stayed well within the limits of our “a little deeper” plan. We turned when I reported my gas at 140 bar, and Tobias guided us back to the shot and pointed the way on. Turns out that under the effects of narcosis, Tobias turns into a considerate and well-mannered human being!

This wreck was where we had wanted to be just a few weeks previously, but never made it. I could feel the ghosts of Dan, Cara, Tobias, Thibault and I – the struggle then to get down a deep, dark shot line in ghastly high currents felt so far away compared to the clear, calm waters we enjoyed now, 43 metres under the ocean. We surfaced, the spirits of failed dives past finally exorcised.

And so, the Ghost-type battle of the Elite Four was won.

The next challengers were Thibault and Richard.

I boarded the boat and excitedly proclaimed it my best dive so far in the UK. Now try and imagine the exact opposite of that sentiment – that is how Thibault looked. He had spent time on the boat getting steadily sicker, losing hit points, then had helped me up over strengthening waves, which was the last straw.

Richard and Thibault were determined to give it a go anyway, and steadily geared up and made their way to the shot. The current was getting stronger, so it wasn’t easy. One look at the state of the shot was enough for Richard to flee the battle and call the dive.

The P555 had exacted its revenge. Thibault’s comeback would have to wait for another day.

We used our last remaining Strength to get the 56 metres of line back up with the shot attached – no mean feat, as the lift bag was now full of water, boulder-like, and the shot was probably dragging against the side of the wreck.

Making it back to the restaurant on the harbour, Martin declared himself dry for the rest of the day. Thibault had some important church matters to attend to. The rest of us healed up with some food and went over to the next dive: the Caves.

The Caves had been dived on a previous trip, but only once, so I wasn’t totally sure what to expect. I’d been told it was a system of caverns, with some swim-throughs, but was mostly rather shallow. I must confess I didn’t realise quite how shallow: Tobias wasn’t joking when he said “if in doubt, stand up”!

The waves were crashing and the rock smashing around us, pushing us into and away from the wall. I was grateful for the defence bonus provided by my drysuit. At times it felt more like canyoning up a waterfall than diving, as we explored many of the caverns at depths as high as 50 centimetres. It was interesting, and it felt like we were exploring something new. At the end of the dive as we swam out, things became more traditionally beautiful: kelp forests, schools of fish and literally dozens of sea hares.

And so, the Rock-type battle of the Elite Four was won.

There was only one acceptable way to finish the day: pizza, beer, more pizza, and more pizza. Me and Thibault had successfully planned and executed matching fish socks, using sock planning sockwear. Next time we will include sock switches for accelerated decoration, once I’m qualified (right now I can only use 40% knit socks, while Thibault has his closed socket rebreather). Then we ate more pizza and went to bed.

Day 2 – Black Hawk Clowns

We sorted the caravan, went to the Mart for some Subway, got some fills, found our boat without any shenanigans related to the keys, checked nearby trucks for signs of Mew, and got to work.

Richard was due to dive to 50 metres, but had a concern with his twinset: one valve was broken. Not being a twinset diver, I understood this to be a bad thing. Tobias said it was less than ideal but ultimately okay, as he could simply use the other and still have access to all his gas. In either case, the consensus was: let’s do it.

The wind and the seas had calmed considerably to a force 3, and you could feel it in the water. We made it to the coordinates of the stern of the Black Hawk, and there was one job to do, for which I volunteered. The way that I write the next paragraph may determine whether I am permitted to handle a shot line ever again, so I will be a little careful with my words:

Me and Richard sorted out the tangled mess that was the shot line from yesterday, with me sorting out the tangle and passing good line to Richard, who flaked it into a neat pile. We were both distracted by the dive to come, set to be the deepest of either of our lives. Twice, we had to disconnect clips on the shot line, so I could disentangle it and pass the end back to Richard while he held the other end from his flaked pile. My dive plan was still a broken record in my mind; Richard was facing the prospect of his first time at 50m, which would be on air, plus some uncertainty about the state of his twinset.

Anyway, we “finished” the shot line while Martin swept around for the stern of the Black Hawk. After a while, the boat stopped. We had finished the search pattern – without success. We could continue the search, but according to the plan, the first wave should have already been in the water for 15 minutes.

Perhaps I knew in my gut that I needed to earn some brownie points, so I suggested that there were two people on this boat who were most keen to dive: the pair that didn’t dive deep yesterday, even if that means changing the pairs for today. This was Richard (who wanted to go to 50 metres) and Thibault (who hadn’t even dived yet). The other three of us wouldn’t dive.

This plan had two benefits: it bought us enough time to do another sweep, this time with Tobias as the cox’n, and I once again narrowly avoided diving with Thibault. Unfortunately the search wasn’t to be – we needed a better Itemfinder, or these coordinates were a dud.

There was one final opportunity to salvage something from the operation: Richard and Thibault could do a 50m dive to the sea floor, just for the depth experience.

When I released the shot, it sank to the bottom of the ocean, followed by the chain, and… no rope. No buoys. Nothing.

At this moment, exactly two things dropped faster than the shot: my jaw, and the feeling in my stomach.

“What just went overboard?!” Demanded Tobias.
“Uhh, the shot. Everything.” Was all I could muster.

Tobias’s head, following the “downwards” vibe set by the shot, my jaw and my stomach, fell sharply into his hands on the steering wheel.

Since I have an opportunity here to rewrite history in my favour, let’s look at the positives!

• Nathan had been after a new, heavier shot anyway.
• The old lift bag was difficult to tie up, so we often had to deal with raising a lift bag full of water, as well as the shot.
• The cost of a person learning a lesson is sometimes the cost of a mistaker, and this mistake didn’t cost anyone any dives.
• Tobias could feel less guilty for failing to find the Black Hawk (where would would have lost the shot, all missing a great dive).
• We had a month until the next RIB trip, plenty of time to sort things out.
• The rubber propellor award needed a good story.
• Thibault was delighted that someone had made a hilariously stupid mistake – and it wasn’t him!

So I think there’s a strong argument that me throwing the mission-critical 20kg shot overboard, without anything attached and with no hope of ever recovering it, has actually done London’s Number One Amateur Dive Club a favour in the long run.

Anyway, mindless optimism aside, we still had a chance to get Richard to 50 metres, thanks to a little thing called a DSMB.

Everyone learned something from the dive to 50 metres. Richard learned the benefits of turning his neck seal down (dryness). Thibault learned that it was always possible to avoid diving with me. And us folks on the boat learned what happens when divers still haven’t come up 20 minutes after they were scheduled.

We could practically see them – there were lots of bubbles coming from next to the SMB, which doesn’t help identify Thibault with his CCR, but at least told us Richard was down there.

Tobias’s first idea was to send a note down on the SMB line to ask if they are OK. This turned out to be a lot harder than expected – catching an SMB from a boat is one thing, but clipping the note to it is another. And wouldn’t it cause confusion when we’re pulling on the SMB to find the line? That’s the emergency diver recall procedure.

As luck would have it, we only pulled on the SMB as Richard had completed his deco. It turned out that everyone was okay – it was just a minor plan variation. But a minor variation at 50 metres had doubled his deco obligation. This sort of depth is no joke.

And so, the Water-type battle of the Elite Four was… won? Maybe we’ll call it a draw, but I was out of the running.

The final dive of the trip was “harbour wreck (tbc)”, a plan which didn’t require a shot line at all. We chose the Encuri (Spaniard) which leads to the Cragside, a second wreck doable on the same dive that is arguably more impressive.

We ate some lunch on the boat, dipping into Thibault’s bag of rare candies. I offered to dive with him, but his evasiveness rose and he decided to do some advanced wreck training with Tobias instead. Fair enough.

Me and Martin buddied up instead. We kicked up some silt near the entrance to the Encuri to annoy Thibault, messed with some crabs to make them Krabby, and found the metal Cragside as it emerged impressively from a blob in the blue.

The end of this dive was the end of my diving season. It was nice to end with a fairly straightforward one. And so, I’d say the Normal-type battle of the Elite Four was won.

We surfaced, boarded the boat, and waited for Tobias and Thibault.

It took them a while, but we knew that it was simply Tobias putting Thibault through his paces. Thibault wasn’t allowed to surface until he could untie a knot with no mask in zero visibility while finding a lost line during an out-of-air drill, entangled upside down and bailed out – or at least that’s my understanding of the Advanced Wreck course.

We went back to port and organised the boat. It hadn’t been the neatest trip overall (you’re welcome), but we all got some good dives in. All of us made it deeper than 40 metres, and all of us achieved our goals, whether that was Richard’s 50m depth progression, my deepest dive with my longest deco plus a Pokémon themed trip report, Thibault clocking deep hours on his CCR, Tobias teaching Thibault some Advanced Wreck, and whatever Martin’s goal was (he seemed happy).

But what about the Elite Four?

None of us had cleared Tobias’s gauntlet, so his status as Diving Officer and Champion is safe – at least for now!

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That’s my last dive trip and trip report for the season – see you next time!

(Editor’s note: thank you to Chris for doing a whole series of trip reports this dive season! Your enthusiasm, timeliness, and delightful delivery have been a pleasure to work with.)