ET 2008 Dive Trip Report

With everyone having safely arrived back from Devon after ET, it's time to put together the traditional epic Trip Report. First off, a huge thanks to Steve A, Paul, Huw and Blair for Instructing through what was the single worst week of ET weather we can remember. It was hard at times, with truly atrocious conditions, but everyone rose to the challenge to push through with the training and emerge on the other side victorious! It wouldn't have been possible without the sheer determination and consistent effort put in by all the Instructing Team.

Pre-ET saw the start of the OUUEG diving season, with six intrepid adventurers deciding to chance the unfavourable weather and heading down to Plymouth for the weekend. Entertained by Eddie's stories about his 'condition' and by the promise of getting wet after Winter, we didn't allow ourselves to be hampered by apparently finding ourselves 65 miles from our intended Dive Site (we still found it!) and dived the wreck of the Scylla. Although the dive was nice, with decent visibility, at least two torches gave up part way through and it was a tad chilly down there… Back on shore, we decided to recover the boat (didn't want to exert ourselves too much) and to retire to the caravan to eat curry (to see if we could make Eddie's condition re-occur) and have a beer or two. Following much planning, we eventually crashed and woke the next morning to try another dive. This time we were aiming at the Persier, in about 30m. Once getting there and dropping in, we found the vis to be approximately 6 inches and after swimming into bits of metal several times, we decided to thumb the dive. In the thick silt surrounding us, I sadly lost by beloved lobster hook, with it becoming the first kit casualty of the week. Faced with strong winds and the prospect of more silt, we again decided to recover the boat and headed slowly over to Torquay, ready for the arrival of the 2008 novices and, with them, the gale force winds.

The first day of ET proper found us at Babbacombe beach, doing a spot of shore diving and putting the novs through their paces. Again, poor vis abounded, with the sea bed having been stirred up by a week of heavy wave action, so not a tremendous amount was seen. Lots of training was done, though, with surprising success (especially given that it would have been very easy to lose one's buddy down there). A few of us set off on a mission to find another dive site at Lannacombe to see if the vis was better there and, after 2 hours driving down four foot wide 'A-roads' and taking a ferry, discovered it wasn't. Back at the campsite, some (well, maybe one or two) people showered and the serious business started. Food appeared, along with a can or two of beer, a glass of wine and a sip of whisky. The first romantic sparks between Andy H and his Welsh sofa buddy began to fly (they claim it was the warmth generated by holding each other. They didn't say what they were holding. Many hours later, we all retired, ready for another hard day of diving. David's new undersuit had arrived, although the legs appeared to be facing the wrong way, with a 'butt' zip, which Conor was taken by.

The boat was launched from Torquay and went out to do a couple of waves to Thatcher's rock, with no major incidents. Further diving was hampered by Andy H taking forever to get ready, From what I remember, the vis was again pretty dreadful and the slightly lumpy sea state led to a couple of divers feeding the fishes, but again, we achieved a fair amount of training. Back at the campsite, Conor managed to destroy the cast iron barbeque as he was assembling it and we had to cunningly repair it with a beer can in order to produce the mountain of burgers and sausages which rapidly disappeared.

The next morning, an executive decision was taken to drive over to Plymouth in search of better vis and weather, which was a good call. We managed to achieve four waves (two to the Scylla and two to the Fort at Bovisand), though were massively slowed by Andy H's claim that he could navigate from Mountbatten to Bovisand (a ten minute drive which took them over an hour). Quick turnarounds and cold water (short dives) meant that we were done in good time. Andy then couldn't start the Landrover as he had forgotten to turn off the immobiliser and then couldn’t reverse the trailer, and finally, we returned to the campsite hungry and tired. Food again appeared and more 'refreshments' were consumed. Another late evening and a few sore heads the next morning…

The next day, we were shore diving for Rescue Scenarios at Oddacombe. Brian managed to put his back out pulling his girlfriend (out of the sea) and we had the Andy on Andy kiss (apparently, they weren't told CPR doesn't involve tongues), cumulating in the exchange of breakfast (Andy dropped a piece of bacon from earlier into Andy's mouth!) making Conor jealous. Worsening conditions and a very shallow beach meant that subsequent dives were canned and we again returned to find food, with a rather amazing spag bol produced by yours truly (with some assistance from the rest of the van), hampered slightly by pasta that was both burnt and raw (who would have thought it possible?). We were introduced to 'Psychiatrist' and discovered some dark secrets about Huw and followed that with a round of 'I have never', discovering far too much about Brian (and Conor, Paul, Andy G… the list goes on!). By this point, Andy H and Conor were competing for the most unpleasant smell and their caravan was best avoided.

With worsening weather, and with worsening hangovers, we were forced to can diving on Friday (the Harbourmaster wouldn’t let us launch in the 35mph winds, bizzarely). Instead, we opted to take the much safer option of going paintballing! While a lot of fun, many, many bruises were apparent later (mainly on Cherry who, for such a small person, got shot a lot!). I tried to knock myself out my running into a door frame (it jumped at me out of nowhere) and a small child made a lot of mortal enemies. The red team won quite emphatically (though we did have an extra person) with our tactics of sitting back until the enemy got bored and ran into range. Again, a mammoth meal and a lot of wine was consumed to rehydrate us for the next day's diving.

Saturday saw us at Meadfoot beach for the Rescue Dives for Tom, Brian and Amelia. Amelia had the most ingenious rescue technique I've ever seen (and my back is still sore) and the two Andies decided to surface swim most of the way across the channel after a two hour briefing (including how to catch sharks and exchanging blood groups). The weather then picked up and rescuers almost needed rescuing, getting out of the surf. Viz dropped even further and again, the decision was taken to bin the diving for the day and spend the rest of the afternoon preparing fancy dress costumes. Top scores must certainly go to Conor's sheepshank (that's shank, Andy), Brian's Reef knot and Huw's mooring post (not really a knot, but a very entertaining costume). I'm sure that photos will appear soon… Conor made his first appearance in the bar, having previously been turned away for being under dressed and under age (who would have thought that a bar in a Torquay campsite wouldn't allow you in wearing a towel and a dressing gown. He was sent home and subsequently fell asleep while he was getting changed…). Another couple of rounds of Psychiatrist was followed by half the group heading down to play on the adventure playground with people finally crashing after a game of Bruce/Sheila. Andy G got a bit 'confused' and tried to go to bed in the wrong caravan.

As a result of the previous evenings activities, attrition was running high for the next day, with us losing Huw, Andy G (who had an appointment with a Police Officer…) Brian, Jo and Alice. Steve decided against a day of diving in what were less than ideal conditions. We drove down to Plymouth to launch the boat and I can honestly say I've never been less motivated to do a dive. It was raining hard, blowing hard, cold, grey and everyone was tired. Forcing ourselves through the barrier, we were greeted with sunshine and people started to cheer up a little. We aimed to get out to the Scylla but in very strong winds (the strongest I can remember diving in, and I wasn't the only one) we were forced to turn back half way. By this point, the GPS had also given up and as we were 'flying blind', we chose to dive around a gaggle (not sure if that is the correct collective term) of other dive boats, where we found a lovely underwater landscape (can you have an underwater landscape, given that it's not really land?). Once again, the weather picked up and Andy's boat driving on the way back left more water inside than out. We decided to can the second dive (no way we'd get back out in accelerating winds) and went for fish and chips before heading back via the pub to the campsite. By this point, people were getting pretty tired out and after Rachel and Blair produced food for all, we retired to rest for the final day's diving.

With the GPS still not working and local knowledge warning us of pea soup vis on the Bretagne, we selected a 'scenic' (foraging) dive for the final one of the trip and finally, we came up trumps, with a bag of scallops and a couple of crabs. Conor developed a strange affinity for his crab and after a quick Subway lunch, we set off on the long, long, LONG journey back (with the Landrovers reaching Oxford before Paul and I got back to London, such was the traffic). I think that fun was had by all, though, and it was all-in-all, a very enjoyable trip!

General 'fond' (or amusing) memories:

Andy H falling asleep at every possible moment.

Leaving Andy H asleep in the chippie and getting the staff to wake him after we'd left.

Watching Andy G destroy Andy H in the playground time trial challenge.

Andy H getting lost every single time he drove the Landrover.

Conor's 'monster' spider crab, about the size of an eggcup.

Huw's story about nearly getting arrested for stealing a hedgehog.

Alice crashing my car into her own car.

The Andy on Andy 'kiss'.

The glorious sunshine and tropical water.

Nearly breaking my wrist throwing my body in the line of fire to defend the boat from rocks after Andy H took too long to drag himself back in

Luke