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.

Dahab 27/28 January 2007

Saturday afternoon. Jenny's now qualified as an Open Water Diver so we can dive together off the hotel beach. Potter around at 14m then a safety stop at 5m in accordance with pre-agreed plan. Jenny's bouyancy control is very good - better apparently than her trainee divemaster who managed to ascend by mistake while leading Jenny. He then panicked, grabbed her weight belt to haul her down when she had followed him up as she had been instructed to stick with him and release it, leaving him and the instructor hanging on to Jenny's legs to prevent an uncontrollable ascent as a result of him having removed her weightbelt. Surprisingly Jenny remained calm throughout this cock-up and didn't bolt for the surface but waited for him to re-attach the weightbelt and resume the dive.

Sunday morning. Taxi into Dahab then Jeep to the Blue Hole for Jenny to snorkel there. Excitement at the restaurant as the kitchen catches fire. Neighbouring restauranteurs rush to the scene with fire extinguishers, perhaps mindful of the proximity of the fire to their own tinder dry wood and thatch roofed premises. Jenny, in the water, misses the fun.

Sunday afternoon. Minor alarm at the airport check in over the flight home. Is it cancelled, re-scheduled or double-booked? In the end it's just an hour late. No problems.

Dahab 22-27 January 2007

We try out the hotel tennis courts. It's windy the first night and we think that's normal (Dahab is big on wind-surfing) but it's calm the rest of the week. One night we join a doubles social. Another evening the pro has the day off when he's supposed to be organising another doubles session. Shrug - this is Egypt.

We try all the restaurants in the hotel then on Friday we organise a taxi and finally venture into Dahab. It's small but growing with evidence of building everywhere. The waterfront promenade has wall to wall restaurants. Each has its own tout. They greet you and press their particular venue's unique attractions but are easily put off. They accept defeat with good grace and a smile. "Maybe you try us tomorrow."
We pick a place to eat - low tables and carpets, open fires . We are invited to choose our dish. The fish is on ice to keep it fresh. So is the lobster. Still moving. We choose something else that stays still.

We're surrounded by cats as we eat, obviously on the scrounge and aoccasionally bad-tempered with each other but no problem.


Saturday - early start in air-conditioned minibus into the Sinai Mountains to St Katheine's monastery. Record the altitude on my new toy. Watch the desaturation time on the dive computer rise and fall as we go up to the monastery then return.

The monastery is isolated and austere. It's a co-operative coming together of Christian and Muslim cultures for mutual support. Camel ride down, just because.

Dahab, Diving 22-26 January 2007

Go to the dive centre http://www.sinaidivers.com/english.htm and do the paperwork, assemble the kit and find our lockers.

Diving is all close to the shore. Some days we drive - five of us crammed in the back of a jeep with our kit in the trailer: me; Sara and Damian; Gareth and Tina - instructors with their own dive shop.

We kit up on matting and dive from the beach. Dives morning and afternoon, returning to the hotel to meet Jenny for lunch.

Two days we dive sites further south from a boat though still close in to shore. Lunch on board. Spend the hours sunbathing and writing up the journal of the African trips.

On Wednesday we drive north, past another police checkpoint. Dive the Canyon (narrow entry down to 30m - sit and watch our bubbles rising through the crevices, gaze eastwards at the canyon floor falling away to 50m). The drive further north, past the camels for the unwary in search of an even more uncomfortable ride to the Blue Hole. Enter via the Bells, a chimney down to 24m then swim up the wall to enter the Blue Hole at 7m. Swm across, looking down into the blue, 200m deep.


Lunch at a beachside cafe, sitting on carpets (shoes off). Haggle a group rate for the loo after the attendant has no change (yes, right!) for me, or Sara who came after me, in spite of me having handed over small denomination notes. He gives in without demur when we confront him with his ploy.

Dahab 21/22 January 2007

Jenny's unconvinced by the explanation that naming a place "Shark Bay" is simply a marketing ploy to encourage the divers into pelagics who might otherwise avoid the more truthful "No Sharks Here Bay".

The mountains - bare reddish/brown rock - are stark and dramatic as we come in to land at Sharm-el-Sheik and even more impressive close up as we drive north to Dahab.

We pass through a police checkpoint just outside Dahab. Is this security to protect the tourist trade or to police the population?

Up early next morning for breakfast. Too early. A whole hour too early because we're only 2 hours ahead of GMT not 3 hours ahead as I'd thought when re-setting the watch (a new toy from Duty Free - more of which later).

The hotel is in a beautiful setting - with low white buildings around a central lagoon, on the edge of the sea with the mountains for a backdrop.