|
|
A Trip to the Kingdom 
Have you ever wondered which is the longest ferry journey in the
British Isles? The Totnes BSAC explorers club can tell you! Swansea -
Cork! The ten hour crossing gives you plenty of time to reflect on
just how long ten hours can be. Our departure date was Friday 19th
July 1996.
Friday
The events leading up to departure left some of us despairing that
the trip would run anything like smoothly! Firstly space in the
minibus was at a premium, particularly when Pete at the transport
depot dropped his bombshell, the roof rack he was sure we could have,
had been given to the Scouts! This being imparted to us on the day
before departure caused minor consternation and a need for plan 'B'.
This eventually involved piling everyone, and their luggage, into the
minibus like so many sardines, and assuring them that the numbness, in
various parts of their anatomy, would soon pass!
Apart from chatting to other traffic through the open side door on
he M4 (walking would have been quicker in that particular traffic
jam), the journey was uneventful, we even managed to avoid the new
Severn bridge, though this was not deliberate...... The outward ferry
journey involved formation dossing on floors, seats and even the
larger window sills! Various methods of sleep inducement were tried,
from testing Stavros'(Greek ferry!) Guinness in large quantities, to,
rather more creatively, repeatedly visiting the Malt Whisky tasting in
the duty free shop. We almost acquired another passenger at this
point, she had struck upon the same ruse and when she recognised Ray,
our party gained a member for the rest of the voyage.
Saturday
I'm not sure if Killarney was ready for us! Having travelled
through the early morning mists, we decided to break the journey
there, and set off in search of coffee, and in some cases cake, just
as the shops were opening. The coffee shop sign said 'closed' but they
served us anyway, a welcome break, but was it fair to tell Mark that
the only loo was the 'Ladies'.......?
We now had to travel part of the 'Ring of Kerry' to reach our
destination, Caherdaniel. The Ring is a scenic road through the
spectacular mountains of the region, and as with all mountain roads,
there was much twiddling of the steering wheel and abuse of the gear
box....next time we need a bus with at least power steering! The road
surfaces left much to be desired, but the views and general scenery
were well worth the effort. What a good job our driver did! (creep,
creep!)
Caherdaniel, a thriving metropolis of three pubs, a fish and chip
shop and a general store (actually Freddie's bar as well) also
contains the Dive centre, Skellig Aquatics, an imposing building,
opposite the Blind Piper pub, contained everything a dive group could
desire, a compressor and a drying area. The shop part, selling a
selection of dive goodies, including the amazing 'Force' fins, but
more of them later.
The weather was beautiful, warm sun, no wind, boded well for the
week, so after a tasting session of the local ales and stouts, we all
went to bed early, to be ready for the off next morning.
Sunday
The new day dawned damp and miserable! But we were on holiday, so
after the briefing we embarked on our weeks diving, full of
anticipation for the magical scenery and super viz..
With the poor weather mediocre viz and only fair choice of sites,
the first day was not up to expectation. The choppy conditions lead to
one or two of our number feeling a little queasy, so the skipper took
us back into harbour for them to go ashore, imagine his surprise when
they politely declined the offer, and stayed on board, to give us all
an exhibition of colour changing, and stoical application of their own
'mal de mer' remedies. Everyone dived twice, so the remedies must
work!
Back at base the housekeeping duties rota was in full swing, funny
how certain characters had pressing engagements elsewhere, when their
name came to the top of the list of duties! But an impromptu,
unorthodox press gang soon solved the problem, threatening the food
supply of certain individuals had rather more effect than might
normally be expected! Let it be said that no food was ever left over
at the end of any meal! The one man disposal unit could be relied upon
to consume leftovers. (who was this mystery figure? Would Beachcomber
be interested?)
Monday
Improving weather and travelling out to the offshore island of
Scarriff made the diving much more like what we had expected, Drifting
through the gullies of Scarriff wedges (Hedges?) was worth the wait,
sheer walls covered in life just a few metres apart was exciting
without being too scary, though the swell added a certain piquancy.
The large discussion group of divers, waiting on the surface at the
other side of the headland, is a story best related by those involved,
but why were they trying to get away from Simon? Was it his
alternative drysuit inflation system?
This evening's entertainment consisted of listening to a local DJ
/ musician doing a one man show in the pub garden. Interested parties
were wagering exactly how long it would be before his equipment blew
up, in the frequent heavy showers. A further distraction being the
gyrations of the local coleens, in short skirts and tight tops, who
were attracting the attention of the more red blooded members of the
party (was anyone not 'moved'?). Richard now cursing his damaged knee,
following his fall earlier in the day, consoled himself with a local
brew or two, and stimulating conversation!
Tuesday
Day three, the Skelligs, target of the holiday, one hour twenty
five minutes steaming time away, something of a bumpy ride. The
journey put the 'remedies' to a severe test, and on the whole
successfully, everyone dived. Spectacular wall diving, though the
outcrops and pinnacles caused some confusion to those not expecting
them! Did we really go the wrong way for half the dive?! Some lucky
people met the seals and all were agreed, the first dive on Little
Skellig was great. One tip, on surfacing it is not a good idea to look
up, this rock is the largest Gannet breeding colony in Europe 20,000
pairs of Gannets create an atmosphere all their own, and have no sense
of responsibility! Straddling boat, suits and sandwiches with
monotonous regularity, I think they have a well developed sense of
humour, and must certainly practice to become as accurate with their
strafing runs!
If the morning was good, the afternoon, under the helipad on
Skellig Michael was excellent. Hanging gardens, was one description,
the steep walls were covered in life, patrolled by pollack, wrasse,
dogfish, ling, and puffins overhead, nudibranchs feasting on whatever
nudibranchs feast on, there were at least six different species in
abundance, and the sight of a lobster and three large crawfish on one
dive was a novelty for most of us from the South West these days! Good
job there is a total ban on divers taking them. What of the islands
themselves? Little Skellig (Sceilg Bheag) is strictly for the birds!
Skellig Michael (Sceilg Mhichil) has an ancient monastic site, the
famous 'Beehive' shaped oratory and monk's quarters are an important
local tourist attraction, and are well visited. Some of our party went
ashore and climbed up and back in an hour! This was done after lunch,
and the view was apparently well worth the effort, there were Puffins
galore in a breeding colony on the grassy cliffs, they seemed totally
unmoved by the human presence, and were quite happy to sit on a rock
with you!
Back ashore, Pam again did us proud, loads of food for our own
gannets! Folk music night in the 'Blind Piper' next door, traditional
Irish music, a lot of from '100 Irish party tunes', but 'The house of
the rising sun' an Irish folk tune? Still we had a good time, getting
into the spirit of the thing! When the band said 'Good night' as we
eventually left, were they sorry to see their backing group leave, or
relieved?
Wednesday
Diving the next morning was on Bullig Lar Ba, a pinnacle/reef near
Deenish island, a pretty dive, the main feature being a narrow gully
leading down the pinnacle to the main reef, we missed it! but landed
at the bottom end of it, where we met the promised conger. Yet again a
nudibranch spotters paradise, funny how some divers find your
nudibranchs more interesting than their own, and have to be shooed off
back to their buddy. With such good viz, why did we keep meeting?
Our's is a friendly club!?
After a leisurely lunch lounging in the sunshine outside the pub
back at Darrynane, our numbers were depleted for the afternoon's dive,
the Smithwick's ale proving too attractive for some.
What a dive they missed! Moylaun gully. Best described as a wide
fissure, it passes well into the island, in places no more than 6 feet
wide, the bottom rising from 40 metres offshore, though it was only
about 25 metres where we went in, this rose to about 16 metres in the
heart of the island, where a pile of large boulders blocked further
progress. The walls rise almost sheer through the surface, and are
covered in sedentary life, many varied species of anemones, sponges
and so on, a conger lurking in a hole, and yet again nudibranchs by
the bucket full. The whole dive could have been spent on one square
metre, but this dive was about scenery as well!
A night dive was planned for the late evening, and a group of
intrepids decided to forgo the pleasures of the local brews for the
sake of what promised to be a good dive. Lots to look at, and the
Sepiola (little cuttlefish) were very entertaining, the expected
Trigger fish were not in evidence, they were late this year, better
luck next time. While the divers were down, the shore party was on the
headland watching the torch beams, and having excitement of their own!
The walk to the vantage point was through a graveyard, and if you went
the wrong way, through the ruins of the abbey which gives the island
its name, a moving experience, in the nicest possible way,
tranquillity that was tangible in the nave of the tiny ruined abbey.
All this, and the Northern lights overhead, what a special evening!
Thursday
The following morning saw us diving a different part of Scarriff
island, what a dive! A super drop-off, we swam down into a large shoal
of pollack and followed the steep wall admiring the profusion of life,
very reminiscent of the Runnelstone, but more of a wall. We knew the
dive would end in a small cove, but were not prepared for what awaited
us there. Rounding the corner at about 18 metres we were on a vertical
wall decorated with a profusion of jewel anemones on the vertical
surfaces, saucer sized dahlia anemones on the horizontal ones, with
visibility in the 12 - 15 metre range, the effect was enhanced as we
swam on, the wall became an overhang, the rock face cutting back at
least a couple of metres, as it dropped away to the extent of the
visibility, sheer magic, our dive was almost an hour the last 10
minutes or so being spent at about 6 metres, just watching the
plankton. This is a major feature of diving this area, string jellies,
comb jellies, sea gooseberries and many larval forms, all floating
around, the largest string jelly seen was about 3 metres long, so
these life forms added interest to safety stops, and great interest in
their own right, in these clear waters.
The afternoon dive was close by and created similar impressions,
some said even better, though Mark's obvious enthusiasm for close
examination of some lifeforms inhibited his buddy from sharing the
experience! The return to harbour was made a little more interesting
by the fog that enveloped us, the radar on the Wey Chieftain came into
its own, and found our way back to Darrynane, trouble was the
substitute skipper wasn't as confident, and we spent a while looking
for the entrance in the murk dodging the rocks, which surround the
harbour entrance.
The evening was spent at the 'Old School House' near Cahersiveen,
a restaurant of some note, seafood a speciality. The location of a
very pleasant evening. The journey home was less pleasant, the low
cloud making driving over the Beenarourke pass very difficult, Allen
doing a sterling job for us, getting us home safe and sound, full of
good food.
Friday
The final day and back to the Skelligs, initially to dive Skellig
Michael in search of seals, but the swell around the intended dive
site was too severe, so we returned to Little Skellig, the attention
of the Gannets, and the very scenic diving provided by the location.
There was a seal watching a short way off, but none of us encountered
it underwater, though the intrepid snorkellers did meet it and even
photographed it, so we are told. Mark had acquired a new title,
Nudibranch, & Underwater Mollusc Parachute Training Instructor
(NUMPTI may sound familiar to some of you!) This title being earned
for his unerring ability to relocate lifeforms, from the level on the
wall he was diving, to another, lower one, often showering those
diving below with small creatures, which would probably have preferred
to remain where they were!
The final dive was at Bolus head on the way back to Darrynane, if
not saving the best till last this was at least one of the most
enjoyable, drop off under the headland, with large tumbled boulders,
big gullies and swim throughs under the boulders, a collection of real
squeeze throughs, again the life was in abundance, including a monster
lobster of about 6 inches in length, who just couldn't be persuaded to
come out to play. Meanwhile others 'played' in the surge gullies, but
were they meant to be mask clearing? It seems we missed the
confrontation with the local fishermen, who were telling the skipper,
what robbing b*******s divers are, and how they are ruining their
livelihood, sounds familiar doesn't it!
The bad news was that we had to catch the 08:00 ferry the next
morning, so the minibus had to be readied before the last night
celebrations began. However, these were muted by the 02:30 start time
for the journey back to Cork. The shorter route cut nearly an hour off
the trip, not as pretty as the outward trip, but in the dark did it
matter?!
Saturday
Cork - Swansea again taught us how long 10 hours can be. At least
on the way back to the M5 the new Severn bridge and its link to Avonmouth
were open, shortening the journey a bit.
On returning home tired but happy, some loose ends remained, next
time can we please find a harbour where the boat can actually come
alongside the jetty! That way we won't get so fit carrying the gear up
and down the b***** beach, how did we all fit in the minibus? Why did
Simon try to lose his drysuit? Does anyone have a recipe for
nudibranchs, perhaps with white wine, garlic and butter........
As promised more of the Force fins, several of us tried them, the
initial feeling was unrepeatable! However someone who had been
practising with them thought they were superb! So try them yourselves,
one day we'll all be using them(!!!?). Finally, advice to all those
considering organising an expedition, great idea, where are you taking
us? The Kingdom of Kerry again? Yes please!
Statistics:
12 divers. Qualifications ranging
from BSAC Sports diver to Advanced Instructor, including HSE and ex RN
divers. No one was disappointed with the diving.
No one did all thirteen dives.
The deepest dive of the week was to
33 metres. The average dive was in the 23 - 28 metre range.
Dive times ranged up to 71 minutes -
(not including the night dive!)
A new range of dive gear was introduced.
'Skunk diver' undersuits, though some were more afflicted than others,
but at least their 'friends' told them (repeatedly)!
The new generation of dive computers
was represented, the micro bubble model, and caused a stir, giving at
least twice the time to desaturation than the last generation.
Something to consider on expeditions.
The Skellig Michael explorers carried
their computers with them, and noted a slight reduction in 'time to
fly'. Though this was done within BSAC 88 table recommendations.
Guinness, Murphy's, Beamish or Smithwick's?
A difficult question that needs further research! The average pint
took in excess of 5 minutes to pour!
Cast in order of appearance : Allen,
Jim, Malcolm, Mark, Nick, Pam, Ray, Richard, Ruth, Sarah, Simon, Steve
and Terry.
Special thanks to Pam for keeping us
all fed throughout the week, and Allen for all his hard work,
'phoning, faxing and so on, that made the whole adventure actually
happen.
Nick Parsons, July 1996
|
|