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DYKKING IN NORWAY : SEPTEMBER 2001
by Cliff Coggin
Yes, dykking really is the Norwegian term for diving, and after the initial
sniggers we referred to ourselves as “dykkers” without a second thought.
Preparations
It had started at Christmas last year watching a
video made for Gordon Wadsworth of some the diving to be had around Norway from
his boat Jane R. The four of us, John Alex Helen & I, decided we had to try
it so we made a booking soon afterwards. In the months that followed we made
fruitless attempts to recruit other divers for the trip from various clubs and
UKRS, but all to no avail. Luckily Gordon was an old friend of John so he agreed
to take the four of us on a boat fitted out for 14.
A rough 27 hour ferry crossing from Newcastle to Bergen finished in sunshine and
enormous relief to escape from the eternal bingo sessions in the main lounge.
Jane R was moored 250 yards from the ferry but it felt far more as we carried
our baggage to it. The late arrival of the ferry meant there was no point in
leaving Bergen that day so we missed out on a dive before we had even boarded.
The dives
Our entry into the water the next day set the scene for almost all the following
dives. Gordon tied the boat to the buoy marking the wreck and we dragged
ourselves through the surface current and down the line, usually carrying a
fresh mooring line which John attached to the wreck by a waster so that Gordon
could transfer Jane R from the buoy line to the waster line. The top 5 metres of
water were green, low visibility, moving at one or two knots, and relatively
warm at 13º. Below that depth the water was clear, still, and cold at 10º.
The first dive was on the Barenfels, or what was left of it. This unfortunate
ship was sunk twice during the war, the first time by British bombers, after
which it was refloated two years later; the second time by mines attached by the
British submarine X-24, which broke its back. After the war the two halves of
the vessel were raised and towed away for salvage, however the stern section
then sank for a third time and all further salvage work was abandoned. The
forward end of the wreck i.e. amidships, is badly mangled and unrecognisable;
further aft it is largely intact and lying on its port side. The superstructure
has slid off to the seabed but other fittings like the handrails are in place
and smothered in white sea squirts. The rudder is in place, as is the propeller
boss, though the blades have been removed. Depth 20 – 35 metres.
The second dive was supposed to be also on the Barenfels again, however on
descending the buoy line we found nothing at its end except part of the handrail
bobbing around in midwater. The waster line must have snagged on this line when
we pulled away that morning, despite tying it to a bollard about 3 feet away
from the handrail. We did not feel up to a third descent so the diving was
called off for the rest of the day.
The first dive on
Tuesday must rate as one of the best wreck dives I have ever done, comprising
the double wreck of the Ferndale and the Parat. The Ferndale was part of a
German convoy that hit a reef at night, Parat was a ship that came to its
rescue. Both were bombed the next day while the rescue was under way, and both
sank.
Ferndale lies at a very steep angle on the reef, much like the Ronda in the
Sound of Mull, with its bow at 10 metres and its stern at about 40 metres. Parat
lies level on the seabed at 65 metres. We knew we would be returning to this
site later in the week so John and I decided to dive the deeper wreck while we
had minimal nitrogen loading. We lost no time in zooming down to the stern rail
of the Ferndale from where we could see the entire length of the Parat some 20
metres away and the same distance below.
This
is what made it such an exciting dive: to be on one wreck and see another
entirely separate and complete wreck below us. Moving more cautiously now we
dropped to the deck of the Parat for a quick tour round this little vessel,
resisting the temptation to enter the wheelhouse, contenting myself instead with
poking the camera through the windows for a few shots. (Unfortunately the
interior shots did not come out – my strobe is inadequate at such low light
levels.) We could see a couple of toilet pans but little else so we completed
our circuit of the deck at 55 metres and moved back to the Ferndale for a gentle
ascent and a mere 3 minutes stop. A more detailed exploration of the shallower
wreck would come later in the week.
Moving off towards the second dive site the sun came out and we were treated to
the rare sight of four sea eagles swooping over the fjord ahead of us.
The afternoon dive was on the Solvang III, a freighter that was
lost some twenty years ago. The hold contained the remains of wooden crates that
had rotted to loose frames of nailed joints that looked like parts of some
archaic spinning loom from the start of the Industrial Revolution. Curiously
there was also a stereo with power cable stretching back under the crates.
Obviously not contemporary with the wreck but why would anyone bother? Helen and
I entered the wheelhouse from a hatch further back and up a companionway. The
helm had been removed but most of the instruments were still present.
Miraculously the radar scanner on top could still be moved without a trace of
friction. The fore locker contained spare green and red brass navigation lamps
as well as junk of no interest. I doubt that the lamps would still be present on
a British wreck. Depth 27 – 35 metres.
That night we moored beside an abandoned saw mill and climbed up a narrow ravine
to work off dinner. As dusk settled we returned to the boat and sat outside on a
perfectly still, clear night watching the sky. The Milky Way was a dense band of
white, the International Space Station could be seen passing overhead, and the
pale green beams of the Northern Lights were reflected in the calm water of the
bay. Over a last whiskey we relished our memories of a perfect day, not knowing
that in New York hundreds died.
Wednesday saw us return to the Ferndale. While concentrating too
much on a camera fault I found myself tumbling backwards towards the stern and
unable to stop until I hit some deck fittings. Helen helped me regain some
composure before we started our journey along and up the vessel. At the mast
amidships we met a pair of lumpsuckers which just could not resist the camera.
Half a reel of film was used on these two, much of it out of focus because they
swam towards me and I could not move away from them fast enough! Fish were a
rarity on our dives, there being little life except for a few large ling and
cod. We ended the dive by going under the wreck where it straddled the reef at
about 20 metres depth and then surfacing near the swim line that Gordon had paid
out for us to pull ourselves back to Jane R.
Later that day we moved on to the Welheim, an armed freighter and by far the
largest wreck we dived. It lies on a slope with its stern, which we did not
visit, being the deepest point. Dropping down the buoy line we arrived at a
machine gun position attached to the bridge wing. The actual gun was missing but
the mounting post, circular walkway and handrail were intact, as was its twin
that we could vaguely discern on the other side. Swimming up to the bow the
decks were absent, presumably rotted away. There were several large circular
fittings on the frames, which I assume were barbettes. It was here that we saw
the only shoal of fish that we encountered the whole week. Helen reckons they
were herring. I am not so sure, but then my lenses need changing for something a
bit stronger so I’ll take her word for it. In the space of 41 minutes we only
covered the front half of the wreck, and even then we never went to the bottom.
Depth uncertain but in excess of 40 metres. We went to 29.
Thursday
found us investigating an unknown wreck in the harbour at Floro. Gordon knew
nothing about it except that diving helmets and boots had been recovered from
it. The visibility was a mere 8 metres which made it feel colder than we had
grown accustomed to, though in fact the temperature was 9º. We came upon an
unpowered barge with masses of thick rope or hose strewn untidily over its silty
deck, and a couple of heavy winches. The hose idea really took hold when we
spotted a conical diving bell about 10 feet long and 5 feet wide. It had a
lifting eye at the top and some 6” circular holes around the middle part, so
we anticipated some interesting discoveries. The disappointment was overwhelming
when we found that the bottom of the bell was not open, but instead had a
smaller cone with a similar lifting eye in the middle. In fact, what we had
found was a large steel mooring buoy! Ah well, it was fun while it lasted. Depth
38 metres.
The afternoon dive was on a freighter called, I think, Nbertre. This German
freighter was badly corroded so that the remains of the hull and superstructure
were like tissue, but somehow most of it stood upright on its keel. The damage
seemed to be confined to amidships and that was due to salvage work. The
exceptional visibility (30 metres) and the easy access into the wreck made it
one of the most memorable of the week. The roofless heads had a tiled floor and
broken toilet pans. The steel mast lay in three pieces across the hull, and
there were bits of broken brass instruments scattered around, - too many I think
to be part of the ships equipment so maybe they were its cargo. Also present
were three boots, though no other signs of human use. Strangely, boots were
found on many of the wrecks we dived.
Our dives on Thursday were on the Frankenwald a vessel that was
large enough and interesting enough to warrant two dives. For the first dive we
dropped onto the accommodation amidships, which we entered to find much of the
furniture and fittings such as mess table legs bolted to the deck (mainly
without their tops which had rotted), toilet pans, baths etc. There was little
silt inside here, though clouds of rust would fall off everything if movement
was too clumsy. Moving forward over a hold was the bridge, which had been
stripped clean inside so entry was quite safe and made a good place from which
to pose for photographs. Above the bridge was the roofless radio room. Forward
of the bridge was another empty hold, and then the foremast, which we ascended,
trying to avoid the thick coating of plumose anemones.
Decompression was done on a tatty piece of rope tied to the tip of the mast.
The second dive was to the aft part of the wreck. From the accommodation block
we passed over an empty hold to meet the aft mast. Astern of this was a
deckhouse that was little more than an outline of its original structure, the
giant 4 metre cast iron rudder quadrant being easily accessible below it. Other
scraps of pottery and brass were lying around as well as the ubiquitous boots. A
companionway on one side led down to the engine room but I did not venture far
as there was no natural light, and I could not cope with both a torch and a
camera. (For some reason the two lanyards always inextricably tangle the moment
I turn off the torch.)
That night we decided to have dinner ashore, and as we were moored at a village
with a whale processing plant, whale was on the menu at the local restaurant. My
beef steak was nothing special; while those who had whale said it was delicious.
Our last diving day started with a disappointment. We were on our way back to
Bergen and were due to dive an unmarked herring drifter that was broken in two,
half being on the reef and half at the bottom. Alex and Helen decided not to
dive so John and I went in to search for it. After 15 minutes swimming to and
fro along the featureless reef we gave up and arrived back at the boat ladder
just as one of the WC’s was being pumped out. John spotted it and moved away,
but I didn’t so it was a crap dive for on two scores. (This must be the only
time I have washed my kit in the middle of a week on a live-aboard.)
The ss Spring was the site of the last dive of the week. It was a coal freighter
whose captain drove it ashore when it started to sink following a collision. It
lies at the end of a narrow channel in the rocks with the entry point being
immediately below a flag pole at the end of a garden. (What an ideal location to
live. Just jump off the end of ones garden straight onto an easy wreck!) We
headed off towards the stern, which is broken off and lying on its starboard
side in about 40 metres, however Helens ears were getting rather squeaky and
sore so we did not get all the way. Moving back up the wreck, which is on its
keel, gave us plenty of time to poke around the two cylinder steam engine and
the exposed valve linkage. (“Why does he want more photos of rusty steel?”
thinks Helen.) Further forward are two holds containing coal and silt. The
columns supporting the deck above appear to be cast iron not steel, which
probably explains why they have lasted so long. Although the water temperature
was unchanged, both Helen and I were feeling cold after a week of intensive
diving so we ascended before we needed to. Depth more than 40 metres. We only
went to 37.
The next day we spent on the tourist trail in Bergen. We went on the
funicular to the National Park above the city because I like trains, we toured
the tedious bloody tourist shops to buy bits of rubbish that nobody in their
right mind would be seen dead with, (I’ll strangle the next person who tries
to sell me a toy troll,) and we wandered round the Bryggen, a fascinating
collection of wooden warehouses built by the Hanseatic merchants a few hundred
years ago, and finished in the Maritime Museum, which covers the history of
boats from the Viking longships to the early 20th century.
The Jane R
Our dive
boat was an old wooden fishing boat built in the 1950’s, skippered by Gordon
Wadsworth who has done all the conversion for divers himself, and frankly it
shows. All the basic necessities are there but if its luxury you want, then this
is not the boat for you. The cabins have four bunks and a wash basin in each.
There are two heads, one with a shower and the other with a bath. The saloon is
comfortable though it would be crowded with a full complement of 14 divers
aboard. Food was cooked on our trip by Gordon’s wife, Anne, though he
sometimes engages a deck hand when she is not aboard. The food was hot,
plentiful and filling.
Dive gear is stored along a central bench running up the fore deck, (cylinders
tied to the back rest, other gear in plastic crates behind the back rests.)
Around the bench is plenty of room and no tripping hazards to shuffle round
fully kitted to the exit point, or to shuffle round again after boarding by the
ladder on the port side. The air compressor is quiet, being fitted in the engine
room, and oxygen is available for nitrox fills. Gordon still dives himself so he
knows what the essentials of a good dive trip are: a supply of good air, an easy
ladder to climb, superb wrecks in clear water, room to stow all the dive gear,
plenty of food, and a seaworthy boat. In addition he is a warm hearted, steady
character and always ready to help. I recommend this trip to all those who love
real diving.
Further information
Gordon Wadsworth (Jane R) tel. 0777 585 1150 or 01723 362085
Diving in Norway http://www.dykkernett.no/,
http://www.skovheim.org/