Thistlegorm 30 January 2008

Another early morning start for Mark, a taxi at 5.30am to go to Sinai Divers in Sharm, where he would join a trip to dive the Thistlegorm - a 2 1/2 hour voyage from Sharm in the Gulf of Suez. We made our way to the (again surrendering passports) before boarding the boat run by Wreck Adventures http://www.wreckadventures.com/ .


We had breakfast as we left port then set up our gear. There were only 9 of us diving (plus the guides) and, when we reached the dive site, we were the only boat. In the height of summer you could expect to be jostling with up to 25 boats carrying maybe 400 divers, but we had it all to ourselves.

Our first dive was around the outside, going from bow to stern. The 3m swell in the force 5- winds made it a bit like being in a washing machine as we held onto the line to do our 5m safety stop. While we were doing this, one of the lines within the rope snapped, and after we were all back on board a second line was put down.



Our second dive, Mark's 100th, was to penetrate the holds of the wreck, seeing the motorbikes, trucks and aircraft parts it had been carrying when it was sunk.

In one chamber there is an air-pocket which you can pop up into and talk with your buddy.

Mark's shortie was the subject of much comment on the boat. Everyone else was in either a long wetsuit or a drysuit. They didn't know whether I was mad, foolish or just plain macho (or some combination of all three). In fact, it was much warmer in the water, out of the wind. So it was a relief that the interval between the dives was barely an hour, which time I spent sheltering with hot sweet tea to maintain my body temperature till I could get out of my suit.

An added bonus from being the only divers was that the video shot during the dives by one of the crew was wonderfully clear and I got a copy to preserve for posterity.

Petra 27 January 2008

An early start: 5am. Except the taxi driver didn't show up till 5.30am so we had a hair-raising drive through the mountains, in the dark, at speeds of up to 100mph.

Egyptian driving pays no regard to sides of the road. They cut the corners at all bends. Indeed, driving on the wrong side of a dual carriageway is quite acceptable, turning it into two parallel roads.

And when approaching oncoming traffic at night, the procedure is to flash headlights then indicate left as if about to turn across in front of the approaching vehicle. Then, when about 20m apart and the effect is greatest, turn headlights to full beam and blind the oncoming driver at the crucial moment.

I wouldn't have minded even this had my seatbelt worked, but it didn't. Jenny sensibly opted for the seat behind the driver and buckled herself in.

Nevertheless, we reached the marina where a boat was waiting to take us across the Gulf of Aqaba to Jordan. We went through emigration, making a double loop through the building that served as both entry and exit from the country, and boarded the boat. We were one of the first and so bagged prime seats at the table inside the cabin. We ate our packed breakfast while others boarded, some having come all the way up from Sharm, a journey of more than 3 hours, necessitating a very early start.

The passage was uneventful and we landed in Aqaba where, disconcertingly, our passports were taken and we were herded onto coaches to take us the hour and a half journey north to Petra.

We had hardly left Aqaba when the tour guide announced that the road ahead was closed for snow at a mountain pass so we might not get to Petra. It seemed like a case of so near yet so far, this being our third attempt to get Mark to Petra (Jenny had already been there, done that and could have got the T-shirt had she been so inclined). It seemed we were about to add a last minute diversion to Wadi Rum to the two cancelled holidays which had frustrated previous attempts to see it.

However, although fog so dense you couldn't see the other carriageway slowed our progress to a crawl, we made it through. Only to find it was raining when we got there. It seems Mark is destined to see all the great sites of the world wearing a cagoule. It was also about 20 degrees colder than when Jenny visited last. This did, though, bring the bonus that you could get photos of the site without other people intruding in the way.


In contrast to Jenny's last visit, the walk ended with a steaming cup of coffee, huddled round a camp fire.

Our day concluded with a (very) late lunch in the restaurant of a hotel perched high above the valley with panoramic views over Petra. At least they would have been had we not ascended into the clouds which obscured the view more than 20m beyond the balcony.

We returned to Aqaba, where we were relieved to be reunited with our passports, and once more bagged prime seats in the warmth of the cabin for the return voyage to Egypt.

The Blue Hole 26 January 2008

On Saturday, Mark dived two deeper sites, north of Dahab. The Canyon is an eerie experience as you descend into the gloom, going down to 30m. You can turn and look up to see the shafts of light above you. Ahead the Canyon slopes away down to 50m. You swim back up a chimney to exit through the Fishbowl.





The second dive entry is via the Bells - a chimney, open to the sea, down to 30m. You emerge out onto a wall that descends to over 300m.

You swim along the wall to reach the entry to the Blue Hole over a lip at 7m. You can swim directly across, in which case you can find yourself apparently suspended in the blue. Looking down you can't see the bottom, at about 120m, and it feels like an abyss. Alternatively you can swim round the side and view the coral.


After lunch, we were roused from our lazy sunbathing by cries for help. At first we thought it was just a training exercise but then we realised it was a real emergency. A diver had surfaced unconscious and was being towed ashore by a snorkeller. I grabbed our oxygen cylinder and we ran down to where he was being man-handled onto the floating jetty.

Hendrik, our Divemaster, organised a pickup to take him to Dahab for recompression. I held his drysuit neck-seal open so that he had a clear airway for us to administer oxygen. We got a knife and cut the neck-seal to relieve the pressure on his airway.

Later we heard that he had survived. He'd been at 102m and had come to the surface without dong any of the three decompression stops required.

I was relieved that when a real emergence arose I was able to apply the training and help save his life.

Dahab 24-31 January 2008

We organised this trip ourselves and, remarkably, each separate element worked. Mark stopped in Bath after his last exam only long enough for a quick drink with classmates to celeb rate the end of the exams. He dove to meet Jenny, who'd been working in London all day, off the Gatwick Express. We stopped overnight at the Copthorne Hotel, Gatwick http://www.millenniumhotels.co.uk/copthornegatwick/index.html?&cid=nb5534 before our early morning flight to Sharm el Sheikh. The taxi was waiting for us at Sharm to take us the hour's drive north to Dahab. The room at the Hilton http://www.hiltonworldresorts.com/Resorts/Dahab/index.html was spacious and had a balcony and hammock. And Sinai Divers http://www.sinaidivers.com/english.htm were expecting us so we were able to dive straight away on Friday morning.

Our first dive was at The Islands - a lovely site with a tricky entry via a swim-through in a break in the coral reef. Jenny was nervous but was well in control of her bouyancy, which was essential as we wove in and out of the labyrinth of coral outcrops.

Norway 14-17 December 2007

We flew from London to Oslo then connected to a flight to Harsted, about 200 miles north of the Arctic Circle. Owing to a delay in getting the aircrew for the second flight we arrived too late for the last ferry via Lodingen and so had to go the longer route round via Narvik for a later ferry. On the way to Narvik, the rep from Explore informed us that although the brochure suggested that we would see plenty of killer whales, in fact, this season the success rate was only about 40% of trips saw whales. This was because the herring, which the whale follow into the fjords, were changing their migratory pattern and no onger coming to the area in anything like the numbers in previous years. At a talk by the scientist leading the study at Tysfjord, the following morning we learned that this was to be expected as the migration patterns change every 20 years or so and the herring had been coming to Tysfjord since 1987.

On Saturday we set off about 10am. It was still dark. We spent the day on a converted trawler. The weather was overcast and windy. No other boats were out so there wasn't even the chance of picking up on other people's sightings. We saw nothing. We returned ashore about 2pm, by which time it was dark already. There was nothing to do, so we were cooped up till dinner time. No wonder Norwegians turn to alcohol, in spite of the price (about £8 a pint of beer and wine is even more expensive) and heavy metal.


On Sunday we were kitted out in dry suits and went out on RIBs. It was raining. We saw no whales, again, though we did see a sea eagle in the distance. We had a swm in the fjord to prove our dry suits were working then returned ashore before darkness fell at about 2.30pm.

On Monday, we set off by coach and caught the ferry to Lodingen and back to the airport for our flight home via Oslo. We felt the whole experience had been pretty miserable and that Explore had misled us in their brochure about the prospects of seeing whales.

The whale tours were run from the Tysfjord Tourist Centre:
http://www.tysfjord-turistsenter.no/safari/english/