Go deep, stay long

Independence II

The short answer is: not having your camera, but that’s a story in it self. Today’s dive was to the U-869 AKA the U-who. The Independence was filled with quality NJ divers, but most of them had never been on this wreck. I was diving with a student, Tom, who was also visiting the wreck for the first time.

We headed out early in the flat calm seas left in the wake of Hurricane Bill. We made good time to the wreck. Bill and Brandon went into tie in. It often takes a few minutes since you never do anything fast in 230 fsw. I helped the first group of divers get in, then we geared up. After buddy checks, we reviewed the plan one more time, then splashed.

The surface temp was high 70s, no current, and the water was very clear. Brandon and Bill were hanging, and Brandon took the opportunity to snap off a few of his great shots. If I were not with a student, I would have paused a few moments to give him a model, but Tom was dropping fast, and I wanted to catch up. We passed other groups of divers on the way. Many had lobsters in their bags.

The line was completely slack all the way down to the wreck. No current at any level. This is unusual out here. Often the current changes directions at different levels. There was nothing, anywhere. It was obvious that there were many layers. You could see them as you passed through. The vis would change, and you could see the water go from cloudy to clear to cloudy. Some of the layers were thermoclines, and the temp started dropping. Below 120ft we felt the drop down to 46 degrees. After a few minutes it started to get dark, and I switched on my light. Now I could easily signal my position, and could see my buddy. Tom started slowing his decent. I’m not sure if he was waiting for me, or if he just needed more time to clear his ears. Either way, I caught up.

My gauges indicated that we were within 50 ft of the wreck, but nothing was coming into view. We continued to drop. The faint glow of a strobe lit up the area. The vis had dropped to 10 ft, and the wreck suddenly appeared below us. The chain was wrapped around a cylinder on top of the wreck.

With the short vis, I immediately reached from my reel. I’ve never run a reel on this wreck before, but I did not want to miss the line with a student in tow. Given the depth and conditions, I was concerned that Tom might be nervous. This proved completely unfounded, as he soon grabbed a lobster and put it in his bag. Not that we were here for lobster, but when they are right there, what do you do?

Given the conditions, we swam slowly along the wreck trying to identify anything we could. We reached the Bow, and dropped down the side to the sand 230ft. This was perfect timing for our dive plan as it was time to turn around. We returned slowly to the line and arrived ahead of schedule. With a few minutes left we continued aft, and found that we were tied in just ahead of the break. We quickly inspected the blast area, which contains a jumble of ripped and torn steal, then doubled back to the line.

At this point, I was happy I had run the line. The strobes on the anchor were no longer visible. We were only a few feet away, but could see nothing. For a few seconds your heart skips. Replay your steps. Ok, there it is. I was not so concerned for myself, as my gas plan left me lots of reserve. I never know how conservative a student is with there gas estimates. We reached the line with a minute or two to spare, and signaled UP.

The long slow assent starts. The initial stops are still cold, and now that we are not swimming, the cold can be felt. Clearing the 100 ft stop brought the temp up to 55. That’s a huge change and it felt great. Soon we could see other divers above us. Those we passed on the way down the line, were now hanging at their shallower stops. Above 50 ft the temp jumped back into the 70s and vis was fantastic.

Tom had run his numbers with the VR3, while I was running V-planner. As we discussed, I would have longer deeper stops, and shorter shallow stops. This was more evident that I realized. Most of my early stops, I was 10-20 feet below him. At 40 ft we matched up, then at 20 ft he indicated 10 minutes as I was cleared for the surface.

At some point in this evolution, we were hanging with another four divers around the 20 ft stop. Two divers had ascended the anchor line, while the rest of use went up the Caroline line. Time passes slowly, and we were just hanging there for our stops to clear. I looked down and noticed a very large object moving in the water below us In the clear water, I could easily make out the features of a very large shark. The nose had the distinct features of a basking shark. From above we could not see the mouth, but the snout was unmistakable. I looked to my fellow divers who were transfixed on their gauges. I got their attention, and pointed out the shark. It swam slowly around the Caroline line below us, then doubled back to the anchor line. It swam around the lines in a figure eight, then swam slowly off into the distance. Since it swam between the lines, we knew it was only about 20 ft below us. Comparing its size to the divers on the bow line, I estimate it was a minimum of 20ft. I’ve seen Basking sharks before, but never this clearly. It was an awe inspiring sight!

While we were really psyched at the incredibly cool experience, I was chastising myself for not bringing my camera. Given I was with a student, on a deep dive, I did not want the extra task loading. I was planning on grabbing it after the dive, and snapping a few shots of the other divers entering and leaving the water. Well, I did not have it now, and was quite disappointed! We spent the rest of our decompression looking around for the shark to return, or perhaps one of its school (as Basking sharks are know to swim in schools). No such luck.

Once on the surface, we did talk about the shark, and some asked what type it was.  I’m sure it would have been a much more heart pounding experience for those that did not know. I did grab the camera, and swam around the boat taking a few shots. Captain Dan, and Danny jumped in for a dive and to pull the hook. The sea was flat calm, with no current. It was an enjoyable wait just floating in the water.

Before long we were underway for the long trip home. It was a great day, and many will tell the story of seeing a huge basking shark.

During WWI the armored cruiser San Diego escorted convoys through the submarine infested waters of the North Atlantic. As irony would have it, she became the only major warship lost in the war by the US when she struck a mine in 1918. Like most warships, the heavy guns and armor caused her to flip over when she sank. She now lies upside down in 110 ft of water a few miles off Fire Island, NY.

If you live in NJ and are interested in diving this wreck, there are a few options. First you can charter a NY boat, get up early, drive to NY, and fight NY traffic on your trip home. Captain Dan has worked out another option. He’s running charters from NJ. Due to the distance, this is more expensive than a standard charter, but can be cost effective over the tolls, gas, and traffic of the alternative.

Billy raising the flags.

With many of the usual suspects in tow, we headed up to Fire Island. Upon arrival, we found a private dive boat tying into the bow. We agreed to tie in toward the stern. Danny had the job done in no time, and Divers started gearing up.

Before long, it was my turn. Just like it’s been down off NJ, the surface was a little snotty, then it opened up around 30 ft. Here the vis remained 30 ft or so down to the top of the wreck. Danny had us tied into the keel near one of the large holes in the hull. My general practice for new wrecks is to do an extended visual tour to get my bearings.

Given the vis, I was confident that I could see the line from either side of the wreck, so no reel was necessary. I headed into the light current, which turned out to be forward. Passing over several large breaks in the hull, I peeked in, then continued forward. Eventually the sweep of the deck became more prominent, and I found the anchor line of the other boat. They were tied into a portion of the keel that formed a loop just prior to sweeping upward. Here also were some smaller holes in the hull that allowed large Tog to swim in and out of the wreck. A large Trigger fish also darted in an out at this point, just keeping out of my reach.

I now knew we were tied in about 200 ft from the bow. It would be a long swim to the stern. I dropped down a bit along the starboard side. The vis below dropped considerably. I could not quite make out the sand, but I could make out the large guns and mounts as I passed them. Again, I peered into each large opening as I passed, pointing my light around. One opening caught my attention. I could see the light of another diver sweeping back and forth as they swam inside the wreck.

Nearing the stern, the prop shafts soon became evident. I was looking forward to seeing what would surly be an impressive set of props. No such luck. They were gone. I found out later, that they had been salvaged years ago, and the salvage effort resulted in the sinking of a savage barge. As it turns out this barge is known to be a good lobster dive.

After swimming the length of the ship, the best bet for penetration seemed to be just forward of our line. After returning to the area, I found Bill making his way in. I didn’t want to stir up the silt on him, so I went further forward where there had been some other large openings. Here the ship is not as wide, and in some of the areas, you can swim completely through. Swim in one side and out the other. Looking through the debris, on the bottom, there were coils of wire here and there, and the ever present silt. One section contained a bulkhead with what appeared to be stacks of shelves. There were openings into deeper sections of the ship, but I was running out of time, and only took the 50cent tour. After poking through a few more openings, I was about out of time, and headed back.

With the proper training and dive buddy, this wreck could be very interesting to explore. As it’s my first visit, I enjoyed just poking around in some of the more open spaces.

On the long trip home, the seas picked up a bit making for slow going, but we were still home for dinner. Had this been a charter from NY, dinner would have been much later.

The Lockness stopped by

Saturday, Divers Den North had a charter to the Stolt. Everybody loves this wreck. The drive out was spent weaving and dodging the flotilla of recreational boats. Apparently there was a fluke tournament, and the masses had turned out.

When we reached the Stolt, Terry jumped in to set the hook.  Watching him descend, it was obvious that surface vis looked much better than the week before.  However, when we pulled up a dragger had passed very close to the wreck.  This raised concerns about the vis on the bottom. Terry had us tied in quickly, and the pool was open.  As divers were rolling in, the Lockness arrived from Long Island, and asked to join us.  Before long they were tied in, with their boat just off our stern.  Captain Dan seems to know everyone.  We were soon exchanging stories of dives, trips, and artifacts.

Divers started returning with bags of scallops, bugs and mussels. A couple of nice tog came up also. From the reports the temperatures had not changed much, but the visibility was just the opposite. of last week. It was clear on the surface, and only 10 feet or so on the wreck.

I rolled in with a student, and we headed for the bottom right along the break. The reports were accurate, the vis was bad, with some surge at the top of the wreck, and current past the hull. We did a quick tour of the break, then headed slowly up the super structure. We poked our heads in a few holes, but the vis was just as bad inside. One interesting observation was the number of scallops on top of the wreck, and on the flat surface of the superstructure.

The Coast Guard takes over the escort

While we were in the water, a boat in distress was reported in our area. We got underway quickly, and sped off to assist. Upon arrival, we could see that the boat was low in the water, but they had stopped taking on water. We escorted them toward shore until the Coast Guard arrived on scene. Nothing like a little drama on the high seas.

It’s been a few years since I’ve had the opportunity to do a Northeast twilight dive. Some of our deep dives seem like night dives, but a twilight or night dive on a shallow wreck is a different story.

As we approached the wreck the sun was getting ready to set behind us. This was a low lying wooden wreck, so Bill looked carefully for a good piece to drop the hook on. By the time I cleared 20ft my light was the only thing visible before me. On the bottom, the line was right on top of a large rib. We were soon tied in, and it was time to reconnoiter.

Given this was my first dive on this wreck, my standard practice is to look around first, then decide on a plan of action. Within a few feet of the line, the telltale signs of lobster were evident. Here, there, everywhere. They were not coming out yet, but there were quite a few in some deep holes. Sea bass were everywhere, and some were quite large. Tog and ling cod where here and there. Sea Robins were all over the sand. Even a nice Conger eel was swimming about freely. It was bit startled by my light. Swimming up the main rib, there were also signs of fluke, and large ones. All of this was very bad, since my weapons were on the boat. After coaxing a 22 inch fluke into my bag, I headed to the surface for reinforcements.

The remainder of my short dive was spent mapping out the wreck in my mind, and collecting fluke along the way. Like most wooden wrecks, there was a nice chain pile at the bow. Many fish and lobster were entrenched here. Some low lying sections stood just a few inches off the sand. Here, Sea bass darted in and out in response to my light.

Back on the surface, the sun had set, and Bill was getting ready to jump in. As the divers came up they all agreed that this was a great dive, and we should do it again. At this point Captain Dan regretted leaving his gear at home. After a short while, we could tell Bill was at his safety stop by the aura of his HID light: 20-30 foot arcs of light. It’s kind of eerie to see the water lit this way at night.

If you’ve never done a night dive here in NJ, I strongly suggest giving it a try.

The Independence II headed out on Saturday with clear skies and a forecast calm seas. Well, by the time we returned, they were calm. However, on the way out it was a little rough, but mostly a medium period swell. When asked where the passengers wanted to go, the decision was for the Stolt.

Upon arrival, I splashed to set the hook. I must admit to being a bit nervous since we had just returned from our North Sea Expeditions, and I had only unpacked my gear the night before. The configuration was a bit different from what we used in Belgium, and I did not have much time to test out the rig. Another trial by fire.

Dropping down the visibility on the surface was not great. Once past the thermocline at 40 ft, it opened up a bit, and I could now see the line before me. Within a few minutes, we were tied in, and I started looking about. Despite the swells above, there was little to no water motion on the wreck. No serge or current. Visibility here was a good 40 ft, but dark due to the murky surface. Large tog were swimming in and out of holes in the wreck, and along the hull. Here they picked at the mussels growing there. Cunners are everywhere on this wreck. One nipped at my glove while I was working with the chain. They keep hang out in front of my mask. I assume they are looking at their reflection, but I’m not taking changes that they want to nip at my lips (the only exposed skin).

At 100 ft, there was a second thermocline where the temp dropped to 46 degrees, and the visibility dropped down to 20 ft. The ocean floor was covered in winter flounder (out of season of course), and skates. A few small lobster were about, and one reasonable one way back under the rudder. Ling cod were about in large numbers, and many of them were large in size. After making a full circle around the wreck, I headed back to the line. I cut the dive short figuring, next dive, I’ll bring a either a weapon, or camera.

At this point, I could see the bubbles of divers rising off in the distance, and the lights of divers on the bottom. Great conditions. Soon, I was back in the surface snot, and the wreck faded from view. On the other hand the temp rose to 72 degrees. On the surface, I informed Brandon of the visibility and suggested he take his camera. I told Bill and Dan that I would do a second dive later with weapon in hand. They handed it to me my spear, and sent me back down the line. So much for a surface interval. (Don’t try this at home.)

Back down on the wreck the visibility seemed to have dropped a bit. Other divers were swimming about, and the tog visible on the first dive were no longer around. The decision was to drop down to the bottom and try for some of the Ling, then wait for the other divers to clear out and see if the tog would show up again. The first part of the plan worked well as Ling are not all that bright. On a previous dive, I recall dragging the line across one wreck, with a ling cod in my face the whole time I was wrapping the line around a beam. Today, even after missing a shot at one, it only retreated a few feet, and I got him on the second shot. Once a few of the larger ones were in my bag, I started to head up to look for some tog.

The other divers were still down on the wreck. In one area, large plumbs of rust colored water billowed from openings. Other areas also showed evidence of activity. I was able to get close to a few of the tog, but none of the big ones. Off in the distance a large gray one darted around the corner. However, he never let me get a clear shot. I guess they don’t get big by being dumb.

Along with my bag of fish, a few lobster came up, a bag of mussels, and a couple of bags of scallops. We headed off to another wreck for the second dive. This was a low lying wooden wreck, with very few spots to attach a chain. Brandon found a good one, and the pool was open. This wreck is often covered with lobster, but this time was also covered in scallops and skates. Many bugs and a few bags of scallops came up. Personally, after spending over two hours on the Stolt, I was done for the day. I splashed to pull the hook, but had no energy left to look around. This was probably good, as I felt a cold trickle down my leg as soon as I hit the water. Somewhere along the line, I must have poked a hole in the suit.

The trip back was on calm seas. It had been a great day of diving, and it was good to be back in NJ.