wreckedinri
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Finally had a chance to sit down and- as they say - put pen to paper.
Saturday, June 28th The U-853 & the Heroine
Not a lot to say about these dives other than IT WAS A FANTASTIC DAY to be out diving! After clearing the walls at the East Gap, Harry, Chris (RIO), Mike, and I made a bee-line to the wreck of the 853. With the calm conditions, I wanted to get to the wreck as soon as possible but the long swells kept our speed under 30 mph after we launched off of one of them and almost lost Mike. Racing a tanker to the site, we arrived in time to watch the huge vessel almost run over the U-Boat’s mooring buoys, which got us to wondering about what it would be like tied to the wreck with a vessel like that passing so closely. Once the wake passed, Harry picked one of the floats out of the emerald green water, and after securing it we swore that we could see nearly fifty feet down the line.
In no time Mike and Chris were on their way down to the last casualty of World War II resting 130fsw below us. I followed minutes later while Harry stayed aboard to do boat duty. Unfortunately, ear problems kept him out of the water this weekend. At 80fsw the shape of the sunken vessel materialized before my eyes. I let go of the Gerri line, not even making it all the way to the mooring line, before breaking free and lazily drifting down to spot just forward of the conning tower; its sawed off stainless steel periscope neck shining in the clear green-hued water. As I checked my gear and was deciding which way to go, I was greeted by several large codfish as they retreated from their hiding places amongst the framework between the pressure and outer hull. With 30 plus feet of visibility I was torn between cruising along the outside of the former war machine or venturing inside; I chose the latter – at least for the first part of my dive.
Entering the forward blast hole, I ducked under the torn steel plating and worked my way through the next compartment. There, I took in the somber sight of the bones belonging to the unfortunate young men who lost there lives on that fateful day on May 6th, 1945. Having been to the torpedo room on previous dives, I opted to turn and exit this steel sarcophagus and enjoy the exceptional visibility outside. Once freed of the U-Boat’s confines I sank over the edge of the hull and made my way aft. Sticking my head into the blast hole on the starboard quarter, I peered into the diesel engine room, imagining what life aboard may have been like with the hot oil-spewing engines running; the crew fighting off choking on the fume soaked air; and their commander desperately trying to evade the Allied navy on their last day alive. Coming back to the present moment, I found myself now looking up at the aft deck-gun mount. I went up and over to the port side and picked my way along the sloughed off plates of the outer hull, working my way back towards the bow. Periodically looking up at the coning tower looming like a sentinel in the green sun-streaked water, I thought of how terrifying that sight must have been to our sailors and merchant mariners. With my time on the bottom drawing near, I came up to the mooring were I tied a useless strobe - useless because the waters were so bright – stowed it and casually worked my way back to the sunshine. The only negative aspect to an otherwise perfect dive was the sight of Chris pouring sea water out of his camera housing as I climbed onto the swim step.
Back aboard it was decision time. Do we stay and do another dive here, or move to another site?. After a short discussion, we all were in agreement that we would set out for the Heroine. Finding no mooring in place, we arrived and marked the wreck on the sounder. After establishing our direction of drift, we approached from the appropriate angle and hooked our quarry on the first try. Atta boy Harry, it's all in how you toss the hook! Like men on a mission, one by one we assembled our gear and headed for the bottom. This was to be the first time Mike dived this site and he was looking forward to exploring a "new" wreck. For Chris and me, we find this former sailing / fishing vessel, now lying in 80 fsw to be one of the prettiest dives in RI. This day was not a disappointment. With a bright 30 feet of visibility and a mild current running from stern to bow the conditions made for an easy and enjoyable dive. Starting at the broken rubble at the stern I made my way along the starboard side of the wreck and paused to free a Tautog from a dirty hunk of balled up netting tangled in the shadow of the ships imposing boiler. Working my way along broken down steel frames and rubble I came upon the partially intact bow canting steeply to starboard. Actually, it's lying on its starboard side with an upside-down anchor adorning the weather deck, its shank stuck into the sandy bottom. Around the stem I swam to head back towards the hook affixed to the wreck at amidships. I took my time checking out the voids between and under the missing hull plates, looking for a large resident Conger Eel that once inhabited this section of the Heroine. It was simply a pretty and relaxing dive, and before I knew it my time with this old friend was over. I rigged the hook to break away and made my way back to the surface.
While stowing my gear and readying the boat to head in I think it was Chris that asked if we had to go in. My response was; "yes, we're all out of gas", referencing the fact that we cannot dive any more anyway. To which he replied that I have to get a compressor for the boat! That's the kind of day it was. One that we wished didn't have to end.
Saturday, June 28th The U-853 & the Heroine
Not a lot to say about these dives other than IT WAS A FANTASTIC DAY to be out diving! After clearing the walls at the East Gap, Harry, Chris (RIO), Mike, and I made a bee-line to the wreck of the 853. With the calm conditions, I wanted to get to the wreck as soon as possible but the long swells kept our speed under 30 mph after we launched off of one of them and almost lost Mike. Racing a tanker to the site, we arrived in time to watch the huge vessel almost run over the U-Boat’s mooring buoys, which got us to wondering about what it would be like tied to the wreck with a vessel like that passing so closely. Once the wake passed, Harry picked one of the floats out of the emerald green water, and after securing it we swore that we could see nearly fifty feet down the line.
In no time Mike and Chris were on their way down to the last casualty of World War II resting 130fsw below us. I followed minutes later while Harry stayed aboard to do boat duty. Unfortunately, ear problems kept him out of the water this weekend. At 80fsw the shape of the sunken vessel materialized before my eyes. I let go of the Gerri line, not even making it all the way to the mooring line, before breaking free and lazily drifting down to spot just forward of the conning tower; its sawed off stainless steel periscope neck shining in the clear green-hued water. As I checked my gear and was deciding which way to go, I was greeted by several large codfish as they retreated from their hiding places amongst the framework between the pressure and outer hull. With 30 plus feet of visibility I was torn between cruising along the outside of the former war machine or venturing inside; I chose the latter – at least for the first part of my dive.
Entering the forward blast hole, I ducked under the torn steel plating and worked my way through the next compartment. There, I took in the somber sight of the bones belonging to the unfortunate young men who lost there lives on that fateful day on May 6th, 1945. Having been to the torpedo room on previous dives, I opted to turn and exit this steel sarcophagus and enjoy the exceptional visibility outside. Once freed of the U-Boat’s confines I sank over the edge of the hull and made my way aft. Sticking my head into the blast hole on the starboard quarter, I peered into the diesel engine room, imagining what life aboard may have been like with the hot oil-spewing engines running; the crew fighting off choking on the fume soaked air; and their commander desperately trying to evade the Allied navy on their last day alive. Coming back to the present moment, I found myself now looking up at the aft deck-gun mount. I went up and over to the port side and picked my way along the sloughed off plates of the outer hull, working my way back towards the bow. Periodically looking up at the coning tower looming like a sentinel in the green sun-streaked water, I thought of how terrifying that sight must have been to our sailors and merchant mariners. With my time on the bottom drawing near, I came up to the mooring were I tied a useless strobe - useless because the waters were so bright – stowed it and casually worked my way back to the sunshine. The only negative aspect to an otherwise perfect dive was the sight of Chris pouring sea water out of his camera housing as I climbed onto the swim step.
Back aboard it was decision time. Do we stay and do another dive here, or move to another site?. After a short discussion, we all were in agreement that we would set out for the Heroine. Finding no mooring in place, we arrived and marked the wreck on the sounder. After establishing our direction of drift, we approached from the appropriate angle and hooked our quarry on the first try. Atta boy Harry, it's all in how you toss the hook! Like men on a mission, one by one we assembled our gear and headed for the bottom. This was to be the first time Mike dived this site and he was looking forward to exploring a "new" wreck. For Chris and me, we find this former sailing / fishing vessel, now lying in 80 fsw to be one of the prettiest dives in RI. This day was not a disappointment. With a bright 30 feet of visibility and a mild current running from stern to bow the conditions made for an easy and enjoyable dive. Starting at the broken rubble at the stern I made my way along the starboard side of the wreck and paused to free a Tautog from a dirty hunk of balled up netting tangled in the shadow of the ships imposing boiler. Working my way along broken down steel frames and rubble I came upon the partially intact bow canting steeply to starboard. Actually, it's lying on its starboard side with an upside-down anchor adorning the weather deck, its shank stuck into the sandy bottom. Around the stem I swam to head back towards the hook affixed to the wreck at amidships. I took my time checking out the voids between and under the missing hull plates, looking for a large resident Conger Eel that once inhabited this section of the Heroine. It was simply a pretty and relaxing dive, and before I knew it my time with this old friend was over. I rigged the hook to break away and made my way back to the surface.
While stowing my gear and readying the boat to head in I think it was Chris that asked if we had to go in. My response was; "yes, we're all out of gas", referencing the fact that we cannot dive any more anyway. To which he replied that I have to get a compressor for the boat! That's the kind of day it was. One that we wished didn't have to end.
