6th December “I’m only 22 you know”.

**Freef** · 10th December 2007, 18:41

Managing to both depart work and arrive at the lake before the Wednesday afternoon broadcasts of Gardeners Question Time or Thinking Allowed meant that my irritation index was considerably lower when I arrived at Stoney for another night diving session. Dogger Frank and Andrew F were heading up, Andrew with his club for a quick one and then club dinner. I had been invited for the food, but as ‘Conduct Unbecoming’ is a phrase that could have been invented to describe my behaviour in polite company I had to decline.

I thought that my early arrival would see me sitting around for a while, but I had been beaten to the site by Frank who had bunked off work even earlier than I had managed and already had a dive. He had been in with YBOD user Mark who was also up for a night dive until he started to do the ‘nodding dog’ and decided to call it a night, but not after joining in with the consumption of the posh cakes from my local Co-op. Opening the box led to mild disappointment as the cakes seemed smaller. After comparing the ‘out’ and ‘in’ size we agreed that the cellophane front on the box magnified the size of the cakes.

Perch resting on the BOP at 22m

The wind and rain had also put many off judging by the empty state of the carpark. I chucked my kit together and prepared the cameras for another dunking as we watched a group getting a bollocking for getting out of the water after the daytime dive 40 min later than they should have. Good job Marge wasn’t on site or they would have been the latest recruits for the eunuch guard.

Frank equalising as he follows the rope into the pit.

Geoff from 955 rolled up, without his wife Chris, so I wasn’t worried about waking up three days later married to their older daughter. For some reason Chris, despite my protestations [and other evidence to the contrary] seems to think that I am the ideal man for Joanne. The lack of Chris meant I wasn’t called ‘Twinkle’ either, which was nice as I am trying to cultivate the macho diver image.

Kitting up we were ready for the off at 1800 and down to the bus stop. With our usual pre dive rituals out the way we dropped in and then bumped into a hungry pike that was waiting for a small diver to enter. As both Frank and I are a bit too big it had to make do with a fish instead.

We made a fast trip down the road, passing under another pair of divers on our way down to the BOP and the rope to the box. The perch resting on the BOP were rudely flashed by my camera strobe as we passed. The slight drop to 23m marks the upper end of the rope which leads on a bearing of 240 degrees to the deep hydrobox. The skeleton has now gone the way of the brass memorial plaque and most of the helicopter, and all that is left are the cable ties. I expect that some big brave diver will be having those away before long.

There was a skeleton here, once.

…and the Police are on the case.

A quick look at a Police sign that has been left on the top of the box and we head off on the long swim to the gnomes, which starts at the bottom of the road. We passed one of the Minis on the way, and another picture was taken. Two weeks before my photos hadn’t come out well, so this time I had taken the diffuser off the strobe to see how the extra light would improve things. The gnomes were still gnome-ish, so we went on to the 20m box that had temporarily migrated to the 6m level for the summer before making our way back to the cairn that is used as a navigation marker to the coach.

Looking into the top of the hydrobox.

The coach was passed on the way to the Stanegarth. I managed to find my way to the tug with my hand over my torch. Not because of any superb navigational skills on my part, but because of the number of divers with extremely bright torches that were illuminating the wreck. We paused in our swim to admire the sight of the wreck looking like something out of ‘The Abyss’ before finning over to it.

Remains of a Mini at 36m.

As Frank had been enjoying himself too much before I had arrived at Stoney he was hovering on the edge of deco so we made our way along the anchor chain and quickly up the cliff. I’ve never boon too quick at ascents in the dark, but this time we were comfortable at a 3 bar ascent rate as indicated by our Suunto’s displays. Back at 6m we find a pike that poses nicely for my camera.

3 foot pike at 8m. Rather that than an 8m pike at 3 ft.

We had accrued a minute of deco over the usual 3 minute stop so a fin around and a couple of rounds of ‘dodge the large group of divers’ killed the time until we could safely ascend. We headed over to the step, still named ‘Dave’, perhaps ‘Dave the concrete step’ is a nod to Not The Nine O’clock News’ ‘Dave the carboard box’, although it is more likely to be some muppet acting the fool. At least it’s not nicking memorial plaques or carving a bit from the helicopter.

Dive 1. I forget why I was bookmarking.

Back out Neale and Emma from 955 had arrived with children in tow, but I didn’t get a chance to terrorise them as I normally would. I kindly gave Emma a cake, but couldn’t shift the empty box onto her as well. Alan was also there, although not diving, perhaps he was back to swap the pink T shirt he bought earlier in the year when he got flak from the staff and named ‘Stephanie’.

Crayfish shot from Frank.

Round two was to see Frank let loose with the MX10 that I had used the previous night dive with Andrew F. As the fish had been hiding then, I only used up 2/3rds of the film, so I thought that Frank would like a play. We were on a small fish hunt, so I would be spotter to Franks shooter. I had to lend Frank my spare torch as his, on new Stoney Cove batteries, had already gone dim. Frank was going to ask for some night-time batteries next time, rather than ones that only work in the day.

…and how not to do it.

We headed off past the pub and got as far as the blockhouse, finding life and stuff on the way. Frank didn’t seem to be getting close enough to the fish to take in focus shots, but some of them came out perfectly well. On the return leg we found a jack pike that looked a bit scared. I mived a couple of metres in front of it and stayed still. The little fella started to edge towards me until my bottle went and I backed away. We got out at the step again and headed to the pub for a warmer before heading off.

Ooooh, they named a step after me!

Dive 2 was to 6m ish.

10th December 2007, 18:41	#1 (permalink)
Freef Custom Title Disallowed! Current Rebreather/s: Dolphin Other Rebreather/s: Dolphin Join Date: Jan 2006 Location: Land of the Freef, UK. Posts: 1,356	6th December “I’m only 22 you know”. Managing to both depart work and arrive at the lake before the Wednesday afternoon broadcasts of Gardeners Question Time or Thinking Allowed meant that my irritation index was considerably lower when I arrived at Stoney for another night diving session. Dogger Frank and Andrew F were heading up, Andrew with his club for a quick one and then club dinner. I had been invited for the food, but as ‘Conduct Unbecoming’ is a phrase that could have been invented to describe my behaviour in polite company I had to decline. I thought that my early arrival would see me sitting around for a while, but I had been beaten to the site by Frank who had bunked off work even earlier than I had managed and already had a dive. He had been in with YBOD user Mark who was also up for a night dive until he started to do the ‘nodding dog’ and decided to call it a night, but not after joining in with the consumption of the posh cakes from my local Co-op. Opening the box led to mild disappointment as the cakes seemed smaller. After comparing the ‘out’ and ‘in’ size we agreed that the cellophane front on the box magnified the size of the cakes. Perch resting on the BOP at 22m The wind and rain had also put many off judging by the empty state of the carpark. I chucked my kit together and prepared the cameras for another dunking as we watched a group getting a bollocking for getting out of the water after the daytime dive 40 min later than they should have. Good job Marge wasn’t on site or they would have been the latest recruits for the eunuch guard. Frank equalising as he follows the rope into the pit. Geoff from 955 rolled up, without his wife Chris, so I wasn’t worried about waking up three days later married to their older daughter. For some reason Chris, despite my protestations [and other evidence to the contrary] seems to think that I am the ideal man for Joanne. The lack of Chris meant I wasn’t called ‘Twinkle’ either, which was nice as I am trying to cultivate the macho diver image. Kitting up we were ready for the off at 1800 and down to the bus stop. With our usual pre dive rituals out the way we dropped in and then bumped into a hungry pike that was waiting for a small diver to enter. As both Frank and I are a bit too big it had to make do with a fish instead. We made a fast trip down the road, passing under another pair of divers on our way down to the BOP and the rope to the box. The perch resting on the BOP were rudely flashed by my camera strobe as we passed. The slight drop to 23m marks the upper end of the rope which leads on a bearing of 240 degrees to the deep hydrobox. The skeleton has now gone the way of the brass memorial plaque and most of the helicopter, and all that is left are the cable ties. I expect that some big brave diver will be having those away before long. There was a skeleton here, once. …and the Police are on the case. A quick look at a Police sign that has been left on the top of the box and we head off on the long swim to the gnomes, which starts at the bottom of the road. We passed one of the Minis on the way, and another picture was taken. Two weeks before my photos hadn’t come out well, so this time I had taken the diffuser off the strobe to see how the extra light would improve things. The gnomes were still gnome-ish, so we went on to the 20m box that had temporarily migrated to the 6m level for the summer before making our way back to the cairn that is used as a navigation marker to the coach. Looking into the top of the hydrobox. The coach was passed on the way to the Stanegarth. I managed to find my way to the tug with my hand over my torch. Not because of any superb navigational skills on my part, but because of the number of divers with extremely bright torches that were illuminating the wreck. We paused in our swim to admire the sight of the wreck looking like something out of ‘The Abyss’ before finning over to it. Remains of a Mini at 36m. As Frank had been enjoying himself too much before I had arrived at Stoney he was hovering on the edge of deco so we made our way along the anchor chain and quickly up the cliff. I’ve never boon too quick at ascents in the dark, but this time we were comfortable at a 3 bar ascent rate as indicated by our Suunto’s displays. Back at 6m we find a pike that poses nicely for my camera. 3 foot pike at 8m. Rather that than an 8m pike at 3 ft. We had accrued a minute of deco over the usual 3 minute stop so a fin around and a couple of rounds of ‘dodge the large group of divers’ killed the time until we could safely ascend. We headed over to the step, still named ‘Dave’, perhaps ‘Dave the concrete step’ is a nod to Not The Nine O’clock News’ ‘Dave the carboard box’, although it is more likely to be some muppet acting the fool. At least it’s not nicking memorial plaques or carving a bit from the helicopter. Dive 1. I forget why I was bookmarking. Back out Neale and Emma from 955 had arrived with children in tow, but I didn’t get a chance to terrorise them as I normally would. I kindly gave Emma a cake, but couldn’t shift the empty box onto her as well. Alan was also there, although not diving, perhaps he was back to swap the pink T shirt he bought earlier in the year when he got flak from the staff and named ‘Stephanie’. Crayfish shot from Frank. Round two was to see Frank let loose with the MX10 that I had used the previous night dive with Andrew F. As the fish had been hiding then, I only used up 2/3rds of the film, so I thought that Frank would like a play. We were on a small fish hunt, so I would be spotter to Franks shooter. I had to lend Frank my spare torch as his, on new Stoney Cove batteries, had already gone dim. Frank was going to ask for some night-time batteries next time, rather than ones that only work in the day. …and how not to do it. We headed off past the pub and got as far as the blockhouse, finding life and stuff on the way. Frank didn’t seem to be getting close enough to the fish to take in focus shots, but some of them came out perfectly well. On the return leg we found a jack pike that looked a bit scared. I mived a couple of metres in front of it and stayed still. The little fella started to edge towards me until my bottle went and I backed away. We got out at the step again and headed to the pub for a warmer before heading off. Ooooh, they named a step after me! Dive 2 was to 6m ish. __________________ David. Currently owner of two differently sized ankles.
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