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Dateline
21st June 2003 -The time had come for a dive into yesteryear,
or more accurately take a giant stride in lead boots. To dive
back in time in both Hard Hat (1933) and Standard Diving Dress
(1940), even down to the red woolly hat, the badge of honour.
Myself and 5 friends, from Enfield RSAC, arrived at the harbour
in Megavissey on a breezy but very sunny morning to find our
instructors from Ocean Sports, based in Pentewan, well advanced
in setting up the complete ensemble. Soon we were being given
our introduction to the equipment and our dive briefing.
Everything
was as though we had been transported back to the early 20th
century. All the kit was authentic apart from the modern communications
unit, one part in the helmet, which enabled topside to hear
every breath the diver took and every syllable uttered.
|
Mike
Russell in hard hat and standard diving dress |
Briefly
the kit which weighs in at 195 lbs, comprises boots at 251bs
each, breast and back weights also 251bs each, brass helmet
at 75 lbs and an assortment of clamps bolts and f inally the
divers knife all adding up the lost 20 lbs. {I'm keeping everything
imperial because that was how it was} Our air would be fed down
a 100-foot umbilical being from a 3-cylinder hand cranked pump
built in 1906. The cylinders, it was explained, are set 1200
out of phase so that at least one is always providing air. We
were pleased to hear the pump was rated for 2 divers to a depth
of 200 ft, all that was needed was for 2 from the team to keep
cranking.
Kitting
up starts by having the Siebe Gorman suit fed on to ones feet
and legs. Then you stand and squirm into the main torso. Sitting
once more whilst leather gloves are donned and secured to
the wrists followed by the boots, huge brass?toed, lead?so
led 'affairs with leather straps and rope laces 7 ft long,
just to ensure they didn't come off whilst diving. After that
came the copper panel "corselet" which passes over
the heed and sits very heavily on one's shoulders, like an
armoured horse shoe collar. The corselet's outer edge engages
the suit's rubber neckband
to form, hopefully, a watertight seal, while the circular
hole provides a seating ring for the helmet. The suit is then
both pulled, pushed and eventually clamped using large nuts
and bolts tightened with a special spanner. Still standing
further broad leather straps are added and the divers knife
fixed on.
Almost
there, so seated now waiting to grimace as the front and rear
weights are added and tied down, just the helmet to go. Firstly
a good spit on the faceplate that is not presently fitted,
and with a bit of a squeeze to get it past your nose the team
lock in the helmet. Suddenly you have tunnel vision. Pumping
starts and you hear a rhythmic phut, phut as air enters the
back of the helmet. It's still quite OK at this stage, and
you feel ready for the dive. Finally the faceplate is screwed
in place and you are invited to stand up and descend the steps
into the water. I was pleased to find the guide rail and hear
a voice telling me where my feet were and to see my safety
diver, about to descend and
await my arrival.
A
couple or more steps, then a right turn and shuffle to the
edge waiting for the tap on the helmet, which was the signal
for one giant step into the harbour.
I
recalled the briefing of keeping my mouth open and toungue
well back, then in.
Touchdown
and I was still standing, but it felt strange and awkard,
almost as though I was going to fall over. Slightly leaning
forward to walk, which menat shuffling forward one fott at
a time, we were tol to keep everything steadily, as you can
easily get out of breath. Although extremely limited by the
small window I could see clearly. I moved cautiously, not
talking too much as it also seemed to take one's breath away,
in reality there was more than enough air although as you
are breathing in a closed vessel, the helmet, if feels warm
around your face. That was to be about the only part that
was to stay warm, as the suit had yielded to the passage of
time and water was absorbed into the suit by osmosis. After
a short walk I thought 'I'm happy with my dive'. just a bit
wet I headed for the exit ladder. It seemed to take a fair
while getting across to it, but once I had hands on the white
stays of the ladder I felt secure. We'd been given instructions
not to step up the fodder one foot at a time but use a 'bunny
hop' to get both feet up together on each rung. Amazingly,
with all the weight of the boots, it was much easier then
I'd expected. Bunny hops up the ladder to near the top where
it was painted yellow, which meant you'd arrived at the submerged
platform and could step off the ladder and walk on the level
back to the harbour steps.
Our
collective thoughts were unanimous, a splendid day, tremendous
experience and complete and utter admiration for those divers
of the post who had to work in that kit. We couldn't work
out how they could possibly do anything apart from just move
around and breathe.
Reproduced
from in
focus 77 (Winter 2003) |
