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Eight hours driving, three shore dives, eight hours back…………crazy?     

Quite possibly! 

Loch Fyne had been very high up on my list of things I wanted to do this year. Like many of the sea lochs in Scotland the photographs I had seen told of a wide variety of marine life that was lurking below the surface.  During the course of the year nothing had come up that fitted in round work. The main problem was that it was best part of a day’s drive there and the same back, meaning that it had to be an extended weekend.

In spite of having many dives blown out and weekends lost to the poor weather conditions I’d had a brilliant August spending two weeks diving Shetland off Halton. So I wasn’t too disappointed with my diving year however, I still hankered after a trip to Loch Fyne.  With the end of the year looming into sight I thought the opportunity was unlikely and had more or less shelved the idea when the chance came! Someone on Yorkshire Divers had posted spaces on their club trip, shore diving Loch Fyne.  After a few emails back and forth it was all sorted.

Driving up there was lovely. Once you get Glasgow behind you Scotland is the most beautiful place in the UK and the time of the year meant it was at its best. All the trees along the sides of Loch were every shade of orange, yellow and brown imaginable. As I stopped to watch the sun glinting off the water which gently lapped against the rocky sides of the loch, I knew it was going to be a super weekend.

Unusually for me I wasn’t going to camping this time as the group had arranged self catering accommodation at a lovely place not far from the dive sites.  Following much discussion the night before it had been decided that the first dive was to be Furnace Quarry.

Carting all my kit down piece by piece and putting it together before kitting up near the water’s edge always made me rather envious of the people who could kit up near their cars, then fearlessly stride across rocky shores to enter the water. I eyed up the green slimy rocks that I still had to cross. I always viewed these sorts of entries with great trepidation not just because a fall would result in a nasty injury but I was worried about damaging my camera. However, there is rather a convenient slab of rock at this particular site and should the tide be just right you can sit on it and get your kit on before dropping into the water.  Finally kitted up and ready to go I set off following the shore to the right. Despite the brightness of the day above and the reasonable visibility the dark boulders tumbling down the sides of the loch and scattered across the bottom contributed to the rather gloomy light. As I worked my way along the gently sloping sides the considerable amount of rubbish that has been dumped was very much in evidence. Tin cans and tyres dotted the underwater landscape but amidst all this junk grew the most fabulous deeplet anemones.

Like flowers struggling to grow on a rubbish tip, every so often one of these huge anemones would appear sitting atop a boulder, its creamy whiteness almost glowing like a beacon in the murk. 

Many of the rocks were dotted with sea squirts and other anemones whilst small edible crabs peered out from over hanging rocks at the black clad visitors disturbing their world again.

Dozens of pairs of claws (belonging to squat lobsters), lay hanging out of cracks and crevices, but it was rare to catch the owners of these sitting outside their lairs as they usually do. Not far from the entry point I came across a large wrasse who for sometime kept swimming about in front of me. Having tried unsuccessfully to take some pictures of him I eventually gave up. Turning my attention back to the boulders along the sloping sides of the loch I suddenly felt the side of my head collide with something. Initially I thought I had somehow hit my head on a rock but soon dispensed with this idea as the culprit swim into view…..it was the wrasse! Not feeling I was giving him enough attention he had head butted me! Managing to give Mr Wrasse the slip I continued on for a little while before retracing my steps a little higher up and returning to the entry point.

After a quick look at the water by the tearooms and some discussion over a hot chocolate it was decided that we would try the dive off the jetty in the caravan park. Kitting up during frequent downpours of rain we gradually traipsed down the jetty and into the water. A nice easy entry with the jetty being a convenient place for ones camera whilst popping fins on etc. We had been advised that there were some boats that had been sunk to make an underwater feature; some vague waving of arms out across the water was meant to indicate the general position.  I knew with my navigating skills it would be more luck than judgement if I should find these but nevertheless thought it would be good practise, so I set off in the general direction. When, after five minutes finning, I found myself getting shallower rather than deeper, I decided to surface and found that I had actually been swimming at right angles to the direction I had wanted to go. Setting out once again I eventually came to the area where I thought the boats might be. Huge lumps of concrete held anchor chains in place for the moored boats above but of the boats that had been sunk….not a sign. However, when I started investigating these concrete lumps I found not only were they covered with some beautiful sea squirts and sponges but various fish and hermit crabs were scurrying around on the top as well.

Meanwhile a closer look at the silty seabed revealed a whole host of life bustling about. Shore and spider crabs scampering away as soon as camera lens got anywhere near them darting off amongst the hundreds of horse mussels, razor shells and scallops that littered the seabed.

So despite being a bit of a disappointment for those that were hoping to find the sunken vessels, (I was not the only who was unsuccessful), if you like macro photography it was great! The following day we decided to return to Furnace Quarry which gave me another opportunity to take a few more snaps of the deeplet anemones although my strobe started to play up. Having had an eight hour drive up to Loch Fyne and with work the following day I decided to cut the last dive and head home. This turned out to be a good move as the traffic on the M6 was at a standstill at times and it took me nearly 10hours to get back. However, later looking at the pics of the anemones it had been worth it just for those. 

More pics Loch Fyne

Several times I had hoped to do the shore dive near the pier at Lochaline but had never got round to it. Reputed to have a steep drop off to 90m it was meant to be a fruitful dive in terms of marine life. Most trips to Lochaline for a weekend diving the Sound of Mull seemed to consist of charging up there (a 10+ hour drive), throwing your stuff on a boat, doing three dives a day ( Lochaline Boat Charters ) then chucking your stuff in the car and driving back…….knackered! This time I was hoping it would be a little different as I was going early.
Mark who owns the Dive Centre in Lochaline conveniently appeared shortly after I arrived I so I was able to bag a room at the end of the row furthest away from the banging doors that had provided my early morning wakeup call the previous year Mull 2006

So leaving my cylinders for Mark to fill that evening I set off to explore the area round Lochaline on foot – again something I had never had the time to do. This was taken further along the coast looking back towards Lochaline

The next morning following Marks advice I drove down to the little beach which is about 100yrds from the pier. Coming from the Dive Centre the turning is not easily seen but is on the left about 50yrds before the Lochaline Hotel car park. The short track takes you right onto the beach where you can park, kit up and just walk in across the sand…..perfect!

Wading out into the water and after doing a remarkable impression of a stranded fish flapping and splashing around whilst praying that no one was watching I finally got my fins on. Swimming out over the sandy slope the bottom is dotted with the anemone cerianthus lloydii their delicate brown and white tentacles swaying with the surge.

Continuing over a band of weed and kelp the seabed then begins to drop in large steps, until it finally falls away and becomes a wall. Gradually working my way towards the pier I dropped to about 30m. However, with the sea life not significantly different at this depth I decided to ascend slightly and spend the dive round about the 20-25m mark where there was plenty to look at, this also meant I would get a longer dive.

Checking my air I reluctantly realised it was time to turn and start heading back. I was then aware that there had been so much to see that I hadn’t actually gone that far. With plenty to look at on the safety stop it made it seem no time at all before I was heading up back towards the beach. It took some time to gradually fin my way back up and across the sandy area as the tide was still going out, however with the sun shining and no time pressure I took my time. Having had a super 50 min dive I decided to have my lunch go for a wander and then kit up for a second dive.

Ready once again and in the water I tried to work my way along a bit further until I thought I was under the pier. This I thought I had accomplished by the quantity of snagged fishing line that I found in various places and giving this a very large berth I continued until it was time to retrace my steps. Once again returning to my entry point I found it considerably easier getting out this time as the tide had turned.
Checking the results of picture taking whilst drinking a hot chocolate and admiring the autumnal oranges and browns on the mountains across the sound on Mull lit by the late afternoon sun I thought there were the odd occasions when life was so unbelievably good.

By the following morning everyone had arrived and the John Preston was the first on the list. There were the usual two boatfuls and although Peregrine is a faster boat my preference is always Brenden as the cabin is larger and with a heater!
I have dived the John Preston many times before and the bits of scattered wreckage have been the subject of a lot of research by SOMAP dive centre website. On this particular occasion in addition to an overcast day the viz was not as good as I know it can be here so I decided to stay mainly on the shallow shelf and concentrate on macro pictures.

Next was the Thesis and I had decided to try some ambient light shots, however my camera didn’t agree with this and my strobe kept going off creating backscatter despite being turned off???????? Eventually after getting very frustrated I gave that up on that idea and settled for some shots of the deadmens fingers that coat the skeletal remains.

Also found this little chap hiding amongst them

Along with Calf Island, Greys Rocks is one of my favourite sites in the Sound and although it was a little dark I was still able to find lots of small crabs and leopard spotted gobies amongst the brilliant orange and yellow deadmens fingers that literally carpet the area in places.

The following day began with thick fog cloaking the Sound. Both boats tentatively left the safety of Lochalines harbour and started the short trip out to the Rhondo keeping in constant contact with each other but it was the Mull ferry that our ears strained to hear. Dave the skipper of Brenden is also one of the ferry’s skippers so was well aware of its exact route. However, surrounded by thick fog with limited visibility none of the vessels were taking any chances and the sound of the ferry’s fog horn marking its position could often be heard until we were safely past and on our way further up the sound.

Fortunately as we approached the dive site the fog began lifting. The Rhondo having dropped down a steep slope is lodged upright at a fairly vertical angle and although her stern quickly appears at 5m her bows lie at 55m. She is one of the most popular wreck sites in the sound but I never find her a particularly interesting dive mainly due to the scantiness of life. This was in direct contrast to the second dive of the day Aulison a fabulous wall dive.

Again staying around 20-25m gave me an hours dive and what a fabulous hour this was. The wall was covered with life. Many different anemones including one of my favourites the white cluster anemone. From a distance they look like drifts of snow blown to coat every inch of the rocky wall and closer examination reveals dozens of tiny little spiky anemones.

Huge clumps of red fingers with their delicate white polyps catch nourishment from the passing currents as do the quickly retreating peacock worms. Surprisingly I saw no crabs of any sort but came across one of the biggest spiny sea stars I had ever seen. Clinging to a fairly flat vertical patch of rock his arms must have measured nearly two feet across, a formidable predator for anything that lay in its path!

The final dive of the day was the Shauna. Arriving just after another boat left we descended to find the viz was shite. Hovering over the deck I noticed a movement around the top of a wide pipe like opening protruding from the deck and drawing closer I realised that it was a huge conger sticking his head out for a look around at the latest black clad visitors. Unfortunately as I got nearer he disappeared. The viz was so bad I knew there was no chance of any sort of decent photo so hoping that it would settle I went for a quick troll round the deck but saw little through the haze of silt. Returning once again to the congers lair I saw his nose again emerging which then quickly disappeared again as he spotted me approaching. Settling down beside the opening I prepared to wait for him to emerge again and despite the poor conditions try a picture or two. Unfortunately another curious diver spotted me. Coming over he grabbed the side of pipe not only disturbing silt and sediment once again but then shining his light sabre down the hole! As the diver disappeared off into the murkiness I knew that my chance of getting a picture had gone ………..as had the conger when I looked down the hole. Finally scared off by the activity and strong light invading his territory he had disappeared into the bowels of the wreck.

The final day of this weekend dawns and the first dive was the Hispania. Probably the most popular wreck in the sound and certainly to my mind the most attractive. Much of the wreck is covered in the bright oranges and stark whites of plumose anemones giving it the appearance of being encrusted with jewels. The presence of so many of these filter feeders is down to the very swift currents that bring nutrient rich water flowing over and around the wreck, but this does mean that she can only be dived at slack. My plan had been to take ambient light pictures from the bottom of the shot and I did.

These done I waited for the remaining divers to come down in order to get some diver shots. Waiting a few minutes I realised I may have missed them and conscious of my ever diminishing air supply I set off for a browse around the deck.

Feeling the current picking up again and checking my air I decided to call it a day and head back up the shot.

The final dive was to be Penniegowan Quarry, a scenic dive. There is more to the Sound of Mull than its wrecks and all of the scenic dives I have ever done up there have always been good. This was a new site to me and so I was looking forward to it. The brief had been simple, down the shot and then head north. This was what I thought I had done…..obviously not! After swimming north for about twelve minutes and even dropping down to 30m to see if there was anything there I discovered nothing. I had obviously missed the wall somehow and ended up surfacing some distance from where I should have been……apparently it had been a very good dive!

So ten dives later and despite the iffy viz at times I felt I had had a fantastic weekend and was only annoyed that I had missed the last dive ….how?… I really don’t know.

Note:- Anyone thinking of doing the same shore dive please go to the link below and read a very scarey account posted on a thread in the Conger Alley dive forum. Although I didn’t read this until after my visit it certainly will make me even more cautious next time.

Account of shore dive Lochaline Pier

The Sound of Mull More pics

Every now and then I’ve mulled over the idea of living on a narrow boat …….but would  I actually be able to drive one! My spatial skills (like most females) are not my strong point  and the idea of steering something that was at least three times the length of my car filled me with dread, but I was determined to have a go.

 The day was actually organised for my sister’s family by my mother………….but having an invite as well meant I didn’t have to gate crash. When we arrived I was somewhat relieved to see the boat was not quite as long as many of the other boats on the canal. It was a small boat that had been refurbished for days out such as ours.

Having had the basics explained and the intricacies of lock opening and shutting demonstrated at the first lock we came to, before the owner returned along the tow path, we were then left to our own devices. It was a glorious late summer day and with my gorgeous niece languidly draping herself over the top of the boat we set off.

Whilst my nephew hopped on and off the boat opening locks with whoever was available.

It was interesting to see familiar places like Newbury from the canal. Although I had done a kayaking course a few years earlier and so knew the short stretch that runs through the town, I hadn’t gone any further so it was all new territory for me. 

It was a fabulous day and the weather couldn’t have been better. Soon after setting off I was able to summon up enough courage to take over the driving. 

My brother in law was very kind making light of the times when I started to head straight for the bank! It was difficult to get used to swinging the steering handle (or whatever it’s called) the opposite way to the way you wished to go, and while I managed to negotiate our way out of some locks, I was not very successful going in, particularly when there was another boat already in the lock. Despite this I don’t feel totally disgraced myself and it’s certainly something I’d like to do again.
It really was a great day out. 

Watching the lights of Kirkwall twinkling in the distance I felt that familiar buzz of excitement that comes when I’m waiting to board aeroplanes and ferries. It’s the anticipation of all the new sights and sounds to come and sitting beneath the harsh glare of the ferry ports lights I was impatient to be on the move. I had had only a brief visit to Orkney this year, as my goal had been Shetland. Finally boarding and driving my car into what seemed like the very bowels of the ferry I grabbed my pack from the car and went to find somewhere to sleep.

Being the only ferry servicing Shetland from the mainland it is huge, operating from Aberdeen to the main port of Lerwick in the Shetlands, calling in at Orkney on its way. Leaving Kirkwall eleven o’clock at night means that the ferry arrives at its final destination at seven in the morning. So having taken someone’s advice I had my sleeping bag and thermarest in my pack and quickly found a spare bit of floor to sleep on that was reasonably quiet. Cabins can be booked at a price but you might find yourself paying to sleep with some noisy git and end up retreating to one of the lounges anyway so this seemed the best option.

Arriving on a rather grey morning did not show Lerwick at its best and not having had the best nights sleep on the ferry I was keen to find Bob Andersons boat MV Halton. Bob had kindly offered to let me stay on Halton when I arrived as she was tied up for a few days and I was to be diving with him the following week.

The only town on Shetland makes Lerwick the most northerly town in the UK. It is a charming place full of character and is not overrun with tourist attractions and shops. The turret roofs on some of the larger buildings near the harbour certainly give it an unusual and rather unique look.

My vague plan had been to spend a day or so exploring Lerwick and the immediate area and then drive up to the most northerly point on Unst and work my way back. There are a few campsites on the islands but wild camping is permitted which is very convenient and much nicer. However my car starting playing up…..as in… refusing to start (even the auto electrician couldn’t work out why). So with a car I couldn’t rely on not to let me down when I was miles away from anywhere, I decided to stick around Lerwick and just make local forays to various places.

Heading out to East and West Burra I stopped in Scalloway the former capital of Shetland. Home to a small fishing industry it also has its castle.

After reading the information inside I realised why certain features had looked a little familiar. It had been built in 1600 by the very cruel and nasty Patrick Stewart who not only was Lord of Shetland but Earl of Orkney and had used forced labour to build himself another palace in Kirkwall the main town of Orkney, which I had visited only last year.

During WW2 the Norwegian resistance movement operated the Shetland Bus
from Scalloway transporting arms and refugees in fishing boats back and forth across the sea, often at night. They must have felt so vunerable in their small vessels at the mercy of not only the Germans but also the sea itself. Many of these brave souls were lost in their endeavour to help others and there are many reminders around the village, this memorial with the fishing boat sculpture on top being one.

Shetland is a bird watchers paradise and people come from all over the world to visit places like the little Isle of Noss which sits on the east side of Bressay. The whole of the island is a bird sanctuary, the only house being for a warden who lives there part of the year. You get over there via a zodiac, which arrives whenever the warden spots someone waiting on the steps. Unfortunately it was too late in the season for puffins which I adore to watch going in and out of their tunnels stooping over like little old men, wings firmly pinned to their sides, but there was still plenty of other bird life around.

However, it was a few days later that I was to really realise the extent of the bird life on Noss when we stood on the boat looking up at the cliffs beneath the diving and wheeling gannets who seemed to perch and nest on every ledge available.

All of this area is riddled with caves and there is some fabulous diving to be had in this area alone.

What started out as one weeks diving turned into two and I ended up travelling up the east side of Shetland twice. All the way to Out Stack the most northerly bit of land that is the UK.

Many wrecks are within a stones throw of Lerwick but none so much dived as the Glenisla and the Gwaldmena. The Gwladmena is a 928-ton iron steamship sunk in 1917, while the Glenisla at 1263tons is a much larger affair.

Although both lie in over 40m they both sit upright and there is plenty to see on the decks for those who don’t want to go to the seabed.

The massive Latvian registered klondiker Lunokhods – 1 is also a popular dive and very impressive. She dragged her anchors and was blown ashore during a severe storm in 1973. Propelled and thrust by the turbulent sea into a gully under the cliffs her bow then broke away sliding down to rest at just over 40m. Her size makes her a very impressive wreck when viewed from the seabed. After swimming up and into her holds you can follow a trail of debris and wreckage in order to find the stern which still lies stranded in the gully in around 18m of water, just below the Kirkabister lighthouse which marks the entrance to Lerwick harbour.

Some of the dives we did were exploratory. Bob is always seeking out new sites and uses the charts and images of the seabed built up by his computer to identify which sites may reveal a good dive. This combined with his knowledge of the seas around Shetland and an uncanny instinct for what will be good he then gets a group of divers to jump in, investigate know and report back. It’s really exciting just to jump in and to think that in all probability no one has ever dived in that particular place ever before. One of these exploratory site that turned out to be particularly good was Stack of Muckle Head where I was delighted to find a little pogge or hooknose quivering against a wall trying desperately not to be seen, unfortunatley he had chosen red weed to lie on!

Heading towards the most northerly islands in the Shetland group you pass Fetlar and just before reaching Unst come to the wreck of The Jane. This was an iron steamship that ran ashore in July 1923. Not only is she an interesting and attractive wreck she also has a tremendous amount of life growing on and around her.

Many dogfish are obviously residents in the area and you can see them hunting in and around the wreckage or laying in wait cleverly concealing themselves amongst the bits of kelp growing on the seabed. The engine itself is smothered in deadmens fingers and other tiny little creatures like sea spiders and minute sea stars clinging determinedly to the bright yellow and orange fingers.

Further north lies the Toni Chandris a Greek steamship with a cargo of iron ore that ran aground in 1940. Although fairly broken up, with the shot onto the end of the prop shaft it was easy to follow and find many bits of identifiable wreckage.
Still heading north the aim was to spend the night at anchor in the beautiful Burrafirth right at the top of Unst but before that we were to do one of the most scenic dives that I have ever experienced in the UK. Right at the top of Unst is the little rocky outcrop of Muckle Flugga; there is nothing there except a lighthouse. Just to the north of Muckle Flugga, like a full stop marking the end of the UK, is the most northerly piece of British land called Out Stack. This particular site was another of Bobs discoveries and what a gem. Dropping you in on the north side of Out Stack you swim over the kelp and down into the most fantastic gully imaginable. It bottoms out at around 32 m and I couldn’t believe the profusion and range of colours that come from the filter feeding plants jostling for space smothering almost every inch of the gullys walls, indicating that the currents must come whistling through here like a steam train.

The beauty of being on Bobs boat is that he has been around these islands for many years and knows them very well. During the course of the week we stopped over night on several of the islands and each is very different and unique. Stopping overnight at Out Skerries and visiting the ‘retail store’ is quite a different shopping experience.

Also on the island is a post office that’s open occasionally, a ferry that visits once a day and a small plane that takes off and lands in someones garden! There was a menu in the window of the post office but no name of the establishment that might serve such culinary delights and there wasn’t a single pub or hotel in sight or anything that looked like it might serve food. Obviously in this technological age of computers, phones etc the people who live here don’t really feel cut off. But it must have been quite a different story some years ago when the only form of transport on and off the island were the different types of small boats that are unique to Shetland.Sixareen

Another rather bizarre place that Bob knew about was just up the road from the harbour in Balta Sound. Instructed to walk up the road and turn right at the T junction until you got to the bus stop we all gradually strolled up there. Meeting the others coming back with bemused looks on their faces made sense when you saw for yourself this rather wacky set up. Apparently the theme changes, obviously it was yellow on this particular occasion.

So all in all a fabulous couple of weeks……..I dont know how it could have been better really.

More pics
The Shetlands on Halton

In the few days before my week diving off Valkyrie I retraced my steps and returned to many of the places that I had visited last year such as Wee Fea which was an operations centre on Hoy during the war. The place fascinates me and I love wandering through the deserted rooms imagining how it must have buzzed with energy and activity during the war. Finding the skull of a sheep laying forlornly in the middle of the main room was a little sad especially as its white bones had been scattered like confetti around the carpet of sheep excrement that lay covering the floor.

Leaving Wee Fea I set out to explore more of Hoy which is much more hilly and rugged than any of the other Orkney Islands. This time I had bought the car over to the island and having previously visited the museum at Lyness during several surface intervals last year I travelled north towards the RSPB reserve at Rathwick. Not having time to do the walk out to the Old Man of Hoy I contented myself with a stroll down to the beach here. This is strewn with the most amazing boulders and stones smoothed and rounded by the constant tumbling and grinding they receive in the surf until they are are finally given up by the sea and lie beached on the shore.

It certainly was a lovely place with its towering cliffs and abundant grassland areas providing homes and hiding places for a vast variety of birds.I also spent a wild and windy afternoon out at Hoxa visiting the gun batteries. This was another important site during the war. Due to its position it provided a fantastic view point for guarding and watching the main entry to the flow from Pentland Firth.

The remains of the gun batteries from both the first and second world wars were placed here and judging by the size of the them they were a fair size.

Many rows of concrete plinths,  (on which the accommodation blocks were placed), have been left indicating that this was a posting for quite a number of troops.
All too soon my few days were over and it was time to turn my thoughts to diving and meeting up with the group on Valkyrie. This was yet another YD gig, with its destination the Northern Isles of Orkney. Valkyrie is the only boat in the UK owned and crewed by females which makes them pretty unique. Gradually everyone arrived with the final member of the group not joining us until very late in the evening which prevented us leaving that day. However, we set off the next day to jouney round to Kirkwall doing a couple of dives on the way. We did make it up to Stronsay which is a delightful little island and I had a lovely walk along the shore near the harbour and was fascinated to see the amount of car parts that had been tossed up on the beach. These included engine blocks and whole car chassis!

You really began to get an idea of what it might be like to live on such a tiny island when you visit the shop and note the opening times for the bank.

Most people have several jobs as there is just not enough work or the size population to make full time jobs viable for people like paramedics, postmen etc.

Returning to Kirkwall we did a final dive on the Cotavia which was a pretty impressive wreck. During the night Hazel had tried to take the boat back round to Stromness however, conditions made her turn back and it was very weird to wake up back in Kirkwall when you are expecting Stromness. She suggested that we all decamp and have the day to ourselves making our way back to Stromness via the road as she expected a very rocky journey by sea. Most of us opted for this and we met up again later in the day back on board Valkyrie for an indulgent evening of feasting and supping upon some goodies that Hazel provided to try and make up for what had unfortunatley been in some ways a rather disappointing trip.
More Pics
Northern Isles on Valkyrie

I really began to wonder if I was ever to reach my destination this summer as I stared horrified at the broken tent pole poking through the fabric of my tent. Screaming with fury was not an option on this occasion as few other campers seemed to be up yet. I also knew this would mean yet another delay as I would have to pick up a new tent in Inverness. Sometimes I really think that someone ‘up there’ has it in for me. Managing to find a large retailer on the outskirts of Inverness I prayed they would have one of the tents that I prefer, so when I walked in and saw a picture of a Terra Nova Laser on the their display I was elated!

I had had one of these super lightweight tents before, in fact not only had it stood up to some pretty rough weather on the Outer Hebrides but I had slept in it for six months whilst travelling in Australia. So although an expensive purchase it is one that is worth every single penny. Whilst I was busy deciding which credit card was going to suffer this purchase I grabbed a passing shop assistant, pointing to the display whilst gabbling away about the merits of this particular tent. He soon returned and much to my dismay informed me they had run out! I then had the tough job of trying to select another from a collection of makes that I had never heard of……..no vango, no north face no anything that was familiar. Now whilst I am normally quite happy to discuss the merits of various makes and models of tents this was not one of those occasions. Unfortunately the shop assistant was a young man who also did a lot of camping and as business was slow that morning he was soon rolling out and erecting a variety of tents for me to look at and pondering over the virtues of each. For a variety of reasons I finally decided on this particular retailers own brand of tent and hastily paid for it practically running out of the shop glad to be on the move again.

I then rapidly became convinced that every delivery vehicle in the north of Scotland was also on the same route, it seemed as fast as I overtook them……which wasn’t that fast at all…..I would immediately be behind another or else behind one of those maddeningly conscientious drivers who adheres to every speed limit and slows down ages in advance of the limit changing. Time was steadily ticking away a lot faster than I was clocking up the miles to Gills Bay but eventually I could actually see the ferry, and while I expected it to sail at any moment I sped on for the last hundred yards practically screeching to a halt by the booking office next to another driver who was also hoping to get on.

Anxiously we waited until we were finally told there was room. I then realized with alarm that we had to reverse onto the ferry whilst being observed by an audience of male crew. Normally reversing into spaces is not something I usually choose to do unless really neccessary. Being female I have to confess I don’t find it easy and it certainly not an accomplishment I could boast. Therefore having to reverse down a ramp onto the ferry and then maneuver and park whilst being watched, filled me with horror. However, as is so often the case it actually was not quite as bad as I had envisaged and while I only stalled the car once, at least I had managed to park it straight!

Finally we arrived in St Maragarets as I had decided to take the Pentland Ferry rather than Northlink. This outfit is the Easijet answer to crossing the Pentland Firth – a no frills boat that is much cheaper but get you from A to B, which is all I was interested in. Arriving at last on Orkney soil I made the short journey to Stromness where upon it started to rain and continued to do so whilst I worked out how to put up the new tent which seems huge as it actually sleeps two. I usually have and prefer small little tents but this one seemed the best option out of the stock that they had. And so begins my summer sojourn and escape from the ‘unsunny’ south.

Portsmouth is a great venue for diving as there is so much to do if you get blown out and given the awful weather that the south has been experiencing this year it was more a question of when rather than if!

Arriving late on Thursday to find the diving for Friday had been canned I decided to finish my tour of the Historic Dockyard. I had visited the Mary Rose back in January but had run out of time.

A Primary school visit was when I last seen HMS Victory, so I was viewing it through very different eyes.

Being so clean and shiny with everything beautifully painted it is hard to imagine just how awful conditions would have really been below deck particularly during a battle. I really cant imagine the ‘well ard’ youths of today lasting five minutes!

I find it fascinating when you find out the origins of a word or a name and in this case it was ‘knots’……. as in nautical speed. The line on a reel was knotted every 47ft 3in. One seaman held the reel, another heaved the log over the ships stern and a third watched a 28second time glass. As the log line ran out the knots were counted against the time glass the number of knots counted related to the ships speed in knots. One knot = one nautical mile per hour.

More HMS Victory pics

The second ship I had look round was HMS Warrior built about 60years later in 1860 and what a difference in technology in such a short space of time.

Rescued from being used as a floating workshop to an oil jetty at Milford Haven with the restoration being the most costly and complex project ever attempted, she is certainly very impressive and a credit to all those concerned. However, although she has been beautifully restored and painted the conditions at that time would have been pretty grim. The engine room was very impressive…even to my girlie eyes…  its hard to imagine what it really would have been like to spend several hours a day shovelling coal and ash in temperatures that would often reach 43 degress centigrade. Don’t somehow think the HSE would be too impressed!

More HMS Warrior pics

Having got the thumbs up for Saturdays diving we all turned up at the Marina bright and early. We were diving out of Haslar Marina, Gosport. The Highland Brigade was quite a nice dive and I even managed to find the depth charges in the rack at the stern. The skipper had thought we were only doing one dive so the rest of the afternoon I spent at the Submarine Museum I have yet to dive a sub but found the tour round the inside of this one interesting. Although it is fairly old and out of date compared with the high tech subs we have now it still gave you a fascinating insight into what it was like to serve on one….I came to the conclusion that I would not have made a good submariner….especially when he explained how you would have to escape should the occasion arise. 

Sunday dawned sunny and fine and we managed two dives one of which was on the Prince Leopold. Visability was pretty shite on all the dives and the photos were rubbish. I had been hoping to just use the WA lense with ambient light and get some black and white wreck shots. However with visability around 4-5m at best it was not to be. Also quite an expensive weekend with my LP hose going and my lovely DSMB getting chopped up by the boats prop! We came to the conclusion that I had probably let my blob go  whilst the boat was more or less overhead picking up another diver. I started reeling up and felt a tug and immediately loosened my hold on the reel in case I was going to get dragged. Lots of loose line then started appearing and getting tangled around my kit and finally the cut end floated down past my nose and I realised what had probably happened. Unfortunatly it was one of those with the twist and blow bottles so an expensive loss.

Monday we all duly trooped down to the marina hoping that we might get another dive in. Several other divers had driven down for the day to fill empty spaces on the boat, but after motoring out to sea for about hour conditions were such that trying to get back on the boat would have been very dangerous so we decided to call it a day and all head for home.

So a total of three dives out of a possible eight, verdict - very disappointing dive wise but I had managed to do a few other things instead.

Walking into the hot humid atmosphere, with floor to ceiling plants I knew instantly that I was going to enjoy this. The myriad of shapes and textures combined with just about every shade of green known to man meant that I was in photography heaven. 

 Plants both on land and underwater have provided me with some of my favourite photographs and the rainforest environment produces some of the weirdest and fascinating plant specimens I have yet encountered on my travels like this amazing pitcher plant. 

I was looking after my nephew and niece for the weekend who live near Newbury. Whilst my niece at 17 needs no looking after…..in fact she tends to look after me on these occasions….. I needed something to entertain my eight year old nephew on one of the days. I had been trying to find something that would appeal to us both and had never visited this place but for some years had seen the signs for it every time I drove along the A4. Fortunately the idea appealed…probably caught him at a good moment! Although only a small set up it was well organised.  In addition to a huge variety of flora from various rainforests around the world they had a few animals as well, some juvenile crocodiles, terrapins and turtles, a few snakes, pygmy marmosets and some delightful tiny black monkeys from Madagascar. While I generally hate to see any animal caged purely for the entertainment of humans some of these animals appeared to be connected to various projects about endangered animals, which begins to go someway to justify their confinement. There were also several types of free ranging birds and butterflies who  had the monopoly on some fantastic blooms.

However, I couldn’t understand why a toucan was caged (unless it was to spare any loss of fingers to the unwary child). I tend to find that the more creatures I get to see in the wild the less happy I am about caged birds and animals unless there is a very good reason for it. I just don’t think that any cage or pen despite every good intention can replicate the size and type of freedom that animals have living in the wild.    

Arriving just before one of the frequent showers that were to plague us most of the weekend, I hastily put up my tent before the heavens opened again……… this was the annual YD visit to Porthkerris. 

Friday saw all the early arrivals for this years gig managing to get in a couple of dives off the RIB which ran back and forth off the beach and out to the manacles four times during the course of the day.

Although I have done a fair few dives in the area over the last couple of years Vase Rock was a first. Never have I seen so many or such a varied collection of jewel anemones in such a small area. The rocks were smothered with clumps of colours that seemed almost fluorescent in places they were so incredibly bright.  

Saturday dawned rather wet and dismal and despite a night of very heavy rain it was actually a neighbouring camper who kept waking me up with the thundering snores that emanated from his tent.
We were diving from Celtic Cat for the rest of the weekend and due to the popularity of this gig she was taking out a boat full to do two dives in the morning and then another boat full in the afternoon. Although Cornwall, like the rest of the country, had been plagued with bad weather for several weeks the visibility was not as poor as I had feared it might be and we had another good couple of dives first of all on the Caroni Rivers and another on Vase Rock.  This sea cucumber appeared to be grazing on these jewel anenomes but I have yet to find out whether they do or not.

Another barbeque was on the cards for that evening, which included the haul of scallops from the previous days dive that had been hung over the side of the boat to keep them fresh. Having done the ‘hunter’ bit some of the guys wanted to build a fire on the beach and went off to now do the ‘gathering’ bit returning with an amazing array of burnable stuff including what seemed like half a tree! 

   
And finally resorting to the usual way so many men have of expressing themselves after a beer or two or three

Sunday arrived with a steady drizzle of rain putting the more faint hearted off who decided to call it a day and hit the road for home. This did of course mean there was a bit more space on the boat and we had a couple of excellent dives on the City of Ghent and the Citrene. Whilst we only glimpsed the sun briefly on our return back to porthkerris it had still been a great weekend in terms of diving and catching up with people.   

More pics
Porthkerris
         

I had been looking forward to this weekend for some time as it was to be my first boat diving weekend of the year, unfortunately due to the fog half of the dives had to be canned!
Despite the poor forecast for the weekend we started the weekend on Friday with high hopes and a lovely dive on Blue Caps where the carpets of brittle starts lay like a mantle completely covering the seabed.

The fog then descended and despite the skipper motoring about in the hope that it would either lift or be less dense elsewhere we eventually decided to call it a day and headed back to shore. Saturday we gathered again at the harbour bright and early only to confirm what we had guessed when we had looked at the day. Thick fog lay everywhere again. Meeting up again later in the morning in the hopes that it might have dispersed we decided to ditch the days diving as it showed no signs of abating. A group of us then went off to Alnwick castle to visit the gardens. Quite strange as it was brilliant sunshine there even though it was only a short distance away. Superb gardens with very impressive fountains and a remarkable poison garden containing loads of poisonous plants. Quite informative and rather shocking to think that I, like many others, have naively grown plants that are quite poisonous in the past.

Our last day on the Sunday proved to be very good with a pleasant first dive on North Knifestone where there appeared to be the remains of several wrecks. This was then followed by the second dive on Knox Reef. For me this dive alone was probably worth the six-hour drive up to the Farnes. Whilst a few people saw no seals on their dive at all I was extremely lucky and had a playful seal not only trying to nibble my fins but also really wanting to play. He kept disappearing and then would return grabbing mouthfuls of kelp, shaking his head from side to side like a dog playing with a toy. Plummeting deep down into the forest of kelp he would then pop back up looking at me with those huge puppy dog eyes. Its experiences such as these that convince you all the sacrifices you make in order to dive are worthwhile.

more pics The Farnes