SURPRISING
seven
UK Dive Sites - April 2000
LV83 |
Mashford's Plymouth|
The Kintyre |
Wolf Rock |
The Smalls |
Wrecks of Mull |
Porth Nanven
Treat yourself this season: Diver lifts the lid off seven unsung, unexpected or unusual diving experiences around Britain - resist them if you dare!
LV 83, Yorkshire
Gavin Anderson
It was cold, deep and dark. We were miles out in the middle of the North Sea, fighting currents and dodging hundreds of stinging tentacles. We were having a whale of a time, exploring a Trinity lightship, LV 83, which sank on 16 August 1967, some 32 miles out of Bridlington Bay. We were diving with a group from Wakefield SAC, a good bunch, though with a definite penchant for portholes.
With the aid of a local guy's tractor we had launched our RIB at Easington into a calm sea, though a slight swell remained from recent winds. The currents could be extremely strong, and we had planned our dive for highwater slack to get the best visibility.
My buddy was Phil, more tekkie than wreckie. And there before us was the ship, intact and perfectly upright in 34m, her light tower the most magnificent sight I have witnessed in UK waters. With only its top section missing, it reached to within 17m of the surface, encrusted in brightly coloured anemones so that it seemed to glow as we glided towards it.
Two lion's mane jellyfish were impaled atop the tower, their malignant tentacles trailing into the open water, moving back and forth in the easing current. They caused us to take a small detour on our way down to the deck, where we headed inside a cabin beneath the bridge.
Here we were surrounded by a huge shoal of bib and pollack with, behind them, dead men's fingers and sponges seeming to sprout from everywhere. I felt ecstatic at being on this lighthouse under the sea. Visibility wasn't quite up to the 15 to 20m I am told it can reach here, but who cared - we were diving a classic!
Deciding to play it safe, we spent most of our time on deck and inside some of the upper cabins. Heading for the bow first, we enjoyed the view of the bridge, from the side and then head on. Like the tower, it seemed almost to glow in the dim light, thanks to its covering of white and orange plumose anemones.
Passing the winch and numerous bollards, again encrusted in life, we glided down the bow anchor chain to the sea bottom. There was still a bit of current running and we stayed alert for flying jellyfish. There's no soreness like that of a lion's mane wrapped round your lips!
Once on the starboard side, I looked for signs of where the Polish trawler Snardy had hit Light Vessel 83 and ripped her open. The lightship had just finished a stint warning shipping away from shallow outer banks off the Norfolk coast, and was being towed to South Shields for a refit. Weather was fine and visibility excellent, so how the Snardy managed to collide with her is a mystery.
Bob Durrant had just turned in from his watch with his mate Jimmy: "There was a most horrendous crash that would have woken the dead," he said. "Out of our bunks in a flash, feeling somewhat confused, we jumped straight into water. The steps leading up to the deck area were smashed, leaving the small escape hatch forward as the only alternative.
"I recall wondering if the men had done a good job greasing it. Luckily they had!"
We found the hole halfway up the hull and considered entering, but we could hear banging from within, and it looked a little stirred up inside. Checking my computer, I decided it would be safer to spend our last few minutes back on deck, before making our way back up the light tower. The stern would have to wait for another day. That's the problem with photographers; we spend far too long hanging around taking pictures!
LV 83 was quickly forgotten after it sank. There had been no loss of life, no heroic rescues - the crew had simply jumped into a lifeboat sent from the towing vessel. Only at the end of the '80s did a salvage diver come across it. He recovered the bell, which he sold for some beers, but as the ship had little of salvage value he left it much as he had found it.
Eventually skipper Gordon Wadsworth, owner then of the Maisie Graham, now of the Jane R, heard about it. The first club he took there was Edinburgh BSAC 21, and Bill Bane was on that trip: "It was the most fantastic dive ever. The sea was flat calm and visibility under water terrific, perhaps as much as 20m. I got a huge lobster from under the winch, and my friend Brian Barr found the clapper from the bell!"
Since then Gordon has taken other clubs to the lightship and a number of Yorkshire divers have discovered the wreck. Due to its position, the strong tides and North Sea weather, however, she is not over-dived and remains in excellent condition. The Jane R runs out to it and other wrecks in Bridlington Bay in June and July (0777 585 1150).
If you prefer to take your RIB, a tractor launch can be arranged from the beach at Easington, and it is only 14 miles to the lightship. It's three miles further from Withernsea - poor for parking and trailers - and 28 miles from Hornsea, but you need to join the local boat clubs for tractor access.
There is a council-run tractor launch at South Shore, Bridlington (37 miles to LV 83), very busy on summer weekends. RIBs can also be launched near the lifeboat station at South Landing near Flamborough, with the council offering a weekend tractor launch, recovery and parking for £10, and it's about 40 miles to the lightship. Both Bridlington and Flamborough have good parking and facilities. Air is available from Scarborough BSAC.
Back on the RIB, despite all the banging, our group brought back not portholes but several huge lobsters. I brought back a record of one of my most memorable coldwater wreck dives!
Appeared in DIVER - April 2000