Today saw the culmination of a lot of planning, considerable consultation & a bit of luck.
I'd been keen on diving the wreck of the SS Kintyre since I first read the excellent dive site guide over 6 months ago on congeralley by John Nicolson (of finstrokes fame... or is that infamy!). As John rightly stated, this dive is not one to be taken lightly for a number of reasons:
- depth: the wreck lies with its bow in about 30m depth pointing towards the shore while its stern is about 50m deep.
- distance: as a boat dive this wouldn't be such an undertaking but it is a long swim from the shore: adding to fatigue, alongside gas consumption and nitrogen saturation.
- currents: strong tidal flow can lead to potentially dangerous down-currents.
I'd been planning this dive for a considerable time: in fact it was one of the prime motivations for establishing my twin 12L tank set up. From consultation with Stewart & Gord, I'd managed to estimate our dive profile & fed these data into Decochek software to predict the decompression requirements. Today was an ideal choice for diving the wreck as there were neap tides meaning minimal potential currents. The weather was also kind: minimal wind & no waves: hence the luck.
Our family made our way to Wemyss Bay, arriving as planned at 13:00. Gus & Rachel were already in attendance & had checked out the access. We parked beside the pumping station. The wreck lies over a hundred metres from the shore. The dive plan is to swim out along the sewage pipe until about 26m where a rope is tied which leads to the bow of the wreck. We'd been led to believe that the sewage pipe was now disused despite conspicuous whirring noises from the pumping station & a definite whiff of effluent in the air!
Access to the rocky shore was a bit tricky, especially with the tide being so low. After a bit of scrambling, we made our way over the last few slippery boulders into the open sea. We swam in front of the pumping station where Gus spotted the pipe submerged a few metres below. We swam out along it for 20m before signalling to the shore & making our descent. After a quick bubble check we finned along the right (north) side of the pipe. Almost immediately my buddy found a fantastic dogfish which he nabbed & tried to shove down my BCD for no apparent reason. I eased the hapless elasmobranch free & had a look at this splendid creature. I turned it on its back & it duly curled in a ring with it head nuzzled into its tail. I was too preoccupied with our mission at this point to bother with liberating my camera from its pouch although I did turn the fish the right way up before venturing on!
The pipe is quite glorious in its own right: covered in multicoloured anemones with many crabs & squat lobsters in evidence (for some reason I didn't feel like collecting them for supper... sewage... yum!). The slope of the seabed is quite gentle until about 15m depth meaning that a great distance had to be covered. Fortunately, Gus & I are keen octopush players so it wasn't too demanding (although I must add that he is much fitter then me!).
Our family made our way to Wemyss Bay, arriving as planned at 13:00. Gus & Rachel were already in attendance & had checked out the access. We parked beside the pumping station. The wreck lies over a hundred metres from the shore. The dive plan is to swim out along the sewage pipe until about 26m where a rope is tied which leads to the bow of the wreck. We'd been led to believe that the sewage pipe was now disused despite conspicuous whirring noises from the pumping station & a definite whiff of effluent in the air!
Access to the rocky shore was a bit tricky, especially with the tide being so low. After a bit of scrambling, we made our way over the last few slippery boulders into the open sea. We swam in front of the pumping station where Gus spotted the pipe submerged a few metres below. We swam out along it for 20m before signalling to the shore & making our descent. After a quick bubble check we finned along the right (north) side of the pipe. Almost immediately my buddy found a fantastic dogfish which he nabbed & tried to shove down my BCD for no apparent reason. I eased the hapless elasmobranch free & had a look at this splendid creature. I turned it on its back & it duly curled in a ring with it head nuzzled into its tail. I was too preoccupied with our mission at this point to bother with liberating my camera from its pouch although I did turn the fish the right way up before venturing on!
The pipe is quite glorious in its own right: covered in multicoloured anemones with many crabs & squat lobsters in evidence (for some reason I didn't feel like collecting them for supper... sewage... yum!). The slope of the seabed is quite gentle until about 15m depth meaning that a great distance had to be covered. Fortunately, Gus & I are keen octopush players so it wasn't too demanding (although I must add that he is much fitter then me!).
Eventually the slope steepened a bit & before we knew it we spotted the rope secured to the pipe at about 26m depth. Of course, this was at low tide; at high tide it would be in 30m depth or so. By this point the green well lit water of the shallows had transformed into pitch darkness. While the visibility in the shallows was in the order of 5m, along the rope it was more like 3m. This was still quite respectable & made keeping contact with the guide line & my buddy relatively easy.
The rope sags down between its tethering points, brushing the sea bed at one point, but is mostly mid-water. About half way along its length I was starting to get excited in anticipation of finally glimpsing this famous ship wreck. However, I noticed that Gus was waving his torch beam about in front of me signalling that something was amiss. I glanced to find him, only to see him hovering about 2m above me with his bright light dazzling me. I headed up & he gestured that he had pain in his frontal sinuses & wanted to ascend.
Oh well, I thought, we almost made it but never mind.
We retraced our fin strokes along the rope back to the pipe & followed it up for a few metres. At his point Gus signalled that all was fine & he wanted to descend again. The show was back on! We hadn't lost much time with regard to my dive plan, so we made our way again down the pipe & along the rope. The anticipation was really quite palpable for me this time. I was peering at the limit of my torch beam just waiting for a treasured glimpse of a recognisable structure. The rope started to follow an apparently increasingly steep path suggesting that our goal was approaching.
And then at last there it was: the bow!
The SS Kintyre was constructed in 1868. She came to grief in 1907 when the Maori on speed trials collided with her. The captain & engineer tried to guide her ashore but when the boilers exploded she went down rapidly. The captain survived but the engineer was sadly lost.
There was certainly no mistaking the feature of the wreck that the rope was fixed to: her clipper style bow was highly distinctive. After touching the structure (why did I feel compelled to do that?) I felt mesmerised for a moment. Success! Well not quite yet, but at least things were going to plan. We finned along the port side of the vessel peering down into the holds & admiring the life adorning its rusting remains. At 35m depth, we were roughly a quarter of the way along its length but that was quite enough for this occasion. Surprisingly, I didn't perceive any effects of nitrogen narcosis during the dive. We crossed the deck to starboard and made our way back towards the bow. Gus ducked down into one of the holds while I illuminated his exit. That lad is becoming more of a wreck aficionado with each successive dive!
There was no problem finding the bow again & the rope attached to it. Following the rope back was no hassle either & before we knew it we were pipe-diving again. On the way back up, with slack water abating, noticeable currents were buffeting us about. As previously reported, these varied in direction at different depths, with some mild down-currents in evidence. We kept to the north side of the pipe & were sheltered from the incoming tidal wash. Our computers indicated that we had minimal decompression requirements: 1 min at 3m according to mine but we still carried out our plan of stopping for 3 min at 6m & 9 min at 3m to purge as much dissolved nitrogen as we could from our tissues before surfacing. Before we knew it we were swimming to shore, thoroughly satisfied with a great day of diving. Hard work but most definitely worthwhile!
Sarah, the kids & I decided to head a few miles down the coast to Largs for a seaside stroll & the obligatory fix of ice cream. We visited Nardini's emporium at the pier. It brought back memories of childhood holidays for me. Our desserts were splendid: the kids ate all of theirs while I absolutely adored my Coppa Amaretto: honestly one of the best ice cream sundaes that I've ever had (Sarah was very restrained in just having a skinny café latte)! We then wandered along to the play park & the kids had some great fun there too.
All in all it was a great day out & I hope to repeat it again before too long. Thanks to everyone who helped in the planning & execution.
The rope sags down between its tethering points, brushing the sea bed at one point, but is mostly mid-water. About half way along its length I was starting to get excited in anticipation of finally glimpsing this famous ship wreck. However, I noticed that Gus was waving his torch beam about in front of me signalling that something was amiss. I glanced to find him, only to see him hovering about 2m above me with his bright light dazzling me. I headed up & he gestured that he had pain in his frontal sinuses & wanted to ascend.
Oh well, I thought, we almost made it but never mind.
We retraced our fin strokes along the rope back to the pipe & followed it up for a few metres. At his point Gus signalled that all was fine & he wanted to descend again. The show was back on! We hadn't lost much time with regard to my dive plan, so we made our way again down the pipe & along the rope. The anticipation was really quite palpable for me this time. I was peering at the limit of my torch beam just waiting for a treasured glimpse of a recognisable structure. The rope started to follow an apparently increasingly steep path suggesting that our goal was approaching.
And then at last there it was: the bow!
The SS Kintyre was constructed in 1868. She came to grief in 1907 when the Maori on speed trials collided with her. The captain & engineer tried to guide her ashore but when the boilers exploded she went down rapidly. The captain survived but the engineer was sadly lost.
There was certainly no mistaking the feature of the wreck that the rope was fixed to: her clipper style bow was highly distinctive. After touching the structure (why did I feel compelled to do that?) I felt mesmerised for a moment. Success! Well not quite yet, but at least things were going to plan. We finned along the port side of the vessel peering down into the holds & admiring the life adorning its rusting remains. At 35m depth, we were roughly a quarter of the way along its length but that was quite enough for this occasion. Surprisingly, I didn't perceive any effects of nitrogen narcosis during the dive. We crossed the deck to starboard and made our way back towards the bow. Gus ducked down into one of the holds while I illuminated his exit. That lad is becoming more of a wreck aficionado with each successive dive!
There was no problem finding the bow again & the rope attached to it. Following the rope back was no hassle either & before we knew it we were pipe-diving again. On the way back up, with slack water abating, noticeable currents were buffeting us about. As previously reported, these varied in direction at different depths, with some mild down-currents in evidence. We kept to the north side of the pipe & were sheltered from the incoming tidal wash. Our computers indicated that we had minimal decompression requirements: 1 min at 3m according to mine but we still carried out our plan of stopping for 3 min at 6m & 9 min at 3m to purge as much dissolved nitrogen as we could from our tissues before surfacing. Before we knew it we were swimming to shore, thoroughly satisfied with a great day of diving. Hard work but most definitely worthwhile!
Sarah, the kids & I decided to head a few miles down the coast to Largs for a seaside stroll & the obligatory fix of ice cream. We visited Nardini's emporium at the pier. It brought back memories of childhood holidays for me. Our desserts were splendid: the kids ate all of theirs while I absolutely adored my Coppa Amaretto: honestly one of the best ice cream sundaes that I've ever had (Sarah was very restrained in just having a skinny café latte)! We then wandered along to the play park & the kids had some great fun there too.
All in all it was a great day out & I hope to repeat it again before too long. Thanks to everyone who helped in the planning & execution.
1 comment:
The guide to the dive is now http://www.finstrokes.com/shore-dive/38-kintyre.html from the imfamous John Nicolson
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