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Although
many wrecks have fascinating histories, there are few that
have been beached only to be sunk by the forces of nature
many years later. The Liberty ship which now lies in a maximum
of 30m, off Tulamben Beach on the north coast of Bali, is
somewhat unusual, because this is precisely what happened
to it.
Originally
torpedoed and badly damaged in 1942, she was taken in tow
by two destroyers. It must have become evident that she would
not survive long enough to reach port, so she was run aground
in a last effort to save her. And there she remained, high
and dry, until 1963! Everything of any value or use was removed,
leaving a bare hulk, and, but for the upheavals caused by
the erupting Gunung Agung nearby, even this would have been
cut up for scrap. Instead, the sea claimed this belated war
casualty as she was finally engulfed and sunk below the waves.
The
Tulamben wreck almost certainly has the distinction of being
Indonesia's most dived wreck. Bali's operators offer trips
to Tulamben, driving their clients across Bali (an experience
itself) and providing guides to show them around. This is
how my dive buddy, Pam Kemp, and I dived the wreck. We telephoned
a nearby dive operator from out hotel, and were picked up
at 7.00 a.m. the next morning. Initially we were driven to
the dive centre, where our equipment was checked (as a result
of which, we were not asked to show qualification records).
After
a two and a half hour journey across Bali, a minibus ride
not to be missed (except by those of a nervous disposition),
we were on Tulamben's dark pebble beach, kiting up under the
palms. Although the sea was calm, there was a swell, which
resulted in waves crashing onto the shore with sufficient
force to indicate that both entry and exit were likely to
be "interesting".
I
made the mistake of venturing onto the black lava pebbles
without sandals. Have you ever seen a fully-kited diver dance?
The pebbles were very, very hot! When we finally made it into
the sea, we found ourselves in shallow, warm and reasonably
clear water (vis around 15m). A few electric blue fish darted
around, breaking up the dullness of the odd, dark sandy seabed.
Our guide (leading a couple of novices by their stabs) moved
on. The seabed suddenly dropped away revealing wreckage in
20m of water.
This
was an archetypal wreck! A wreck envisaged in the imagination!
Although somewhat broken up, large areas remained sufficiently
intact to enable us to swim in and out of them. The odd ladder
remained, twisted pipe work, and the miscellaneous debris
which accompanies wrecks everywhere. Coral covered the metal,
and together with crinoids, added further strange shapes to
those of the distorted vessel.
Multitudes
of fish were attracted by the bananas offered them by some
of the apparently vast numbers of divers. The bright colours
of both fish and diving equipment seemed to compete with each
other, before finally merging into a vivid cacophony. Our
Japanese guide, Hiromi Matsui, was easily spotted though,
with her two students still in tow!
All
too soon it was time to head for the beach and brave the swell.
We followed the rest of our group, and I realised that the
shallow sand we had finned over earlier, actually covered
part of the wreck's hull, which yawned open beneath us. Clambering
out was, as anticipated, a bumpy affair!
Lunch
was idyllic, sandwiches and fresh bananas eaten under swaying
palms, with the added bonus of the anticipation of the afternoon
dive. Another guide took us down this time. He led us further
to the west, down onto another part of the wreckage. Here
more twisted metal rose from the seabed stretching upwards
to the light. Overhanging, buckled sheets and dark cavernous
holes beckoned. We pottered around exploring and just enjoying
the spectacle of this encrusted vessel. Our guide patiently
waited for us - he had seen this too many times before to
find new inspiration, and he was at work after all.
Time
was up. As we headed once again for the dark pebble beach,
our guide indicated for us to stop at 6m. I showed him my
computer reading 99 minutes no-stop, but he was insistent,
so we hung around enjoying the extra time without complaint.
As
we sat, weary but elated, in our minibus heading through the
hot chaotic Balinese night towards our hotel, I reflected
that this was a day's diving which I would remember for a
long time to come.
Reproduced
from in focus 51. Mar. 94 with kind permission of Paul Kay
(http://www.marinewildlife.co.uk/)
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