The fun they had at TEKCamp

An awesome week of meeting the best UK technical divers and learning from them

Diving in The Red Sea

Warm water, clear visibility makes for a great holiday!

Malinbeg Harbour

Often, the simplest local dives are the best.

Scapa Flow 2013 - PART THREE: Attack of the Stoor Worm!

When stoor worms attack!

By day three on The Valkyrie i was über happy. Yes, über. Everything was running according to plan. I wasn't having to do anything except sleep, eat, and dive. At best, the most difficult decision was choosing a DVD to watch in the evening, and whether to go for a beer or have another sleep. It was working well. Little did i know how a pending night's activities would change my life forever.

The diving continued to get better, with the wrecks becoming bigger and a little deeper as the week progressed. Our collection of divers were also gelling very well. I knew a lot of the folks from TekCamp, but the guys i hadn't met previously were great fun and it was seriously good craic on board.


"BRIEFING IN THE LOUNGE!"


SMS KRONPRINZ WILLHELM

Kronprinz Wilhelm was initially Kronprinz, becoming Kronprinz Wilhelm in 1918 in honour of Crown Prince Wilhelm. The ship was a König class battlecruiser, one of four ships of this class. The others were König, Grosser Kurfürst and Markgraf. Kronprinz was laid down in Kiel in 1911, launched in February 1914 and commissioned in August of that year. On 15 June 1918 she was renamed Kronprinz Wilhelm but, just over five months later, on 19 November, she left Germany for the last time bound for Britain and her final resting place, Scapa Flow. [source: Scapa Flow Wrecks]




At 38m our team decided trimix was a necessity and opted for 21/35 with 50% as a deco gas. Joe ditched us, so it was back to Team Ireland; Kerri was deco captain, i was bagging off, and Dave ... well, Dave was on holiday. As skipper Hazel got us into position, Rob instructed us to make our way to the hole in the hull and depart. I was becoming increasingly comfortable with the entry, and took my camera on most of the dives.

We descended down the shot line together and i noted the light fading and the vision below becoming blacker and blacker. The idea was to reach the sea bed, fin under the upturned hull and find the casement guns. By the time we reached 35m it was black as night and very silty; by which stage i decided i would be going under fuck all. Another group of divers had just exited the site, and it was apparent they'd kicked the crap out of what visibility there was.

Kerri deep under the Kronprinz


I signalled Dave and Kerri i wasn't happy to go gun searching, so we finned along the outside of the hull instead. I was a bit annoyed not getting to see more guns, but i couldn't bring myself to venture into the black knowing there was 50 bazillion tonnes of warship above me to get lost under. Nevertheless, we enjoyed clearer water further up the wreck and located the mast, spotting tower, torpedo tube salvage area, and some nice 'little' dark crevices to peek around in. The planned 40 min bottom time arrived, and we began our ascent. I bagged off, Kerri ran the deco and Dave ... well ...


Dave on holiday

Back on The Valkyrie it was time for lunch; a fry up. God bless Helen the feeder. The galley was littered with pans of bacon, sausage, square sausage, vegetable roll, fried bread, eggs and other stuff sizzled in fat; it was tremendous. I know it's a disgrace to say, what with all the lovely food Helen bakes, but it was my favourite meal of the trip. I do love bacon. The topic of conversation over lunch involved cock and ball torture. I can't really comment on the content, but i believe Martin Robson started it.


"BRIEFING IN THE LOUNGE!"

SMS BRUMMER





The next dive was The Bummer. I was really looking forward to it, and at 34m we were guaranteed a decent bottom time. Alas the O2 still hadn't arrived so once more we agreed to keep it shallow and keep the deco to a minimum. The team took it's usual roles, but by this stage we'd stopped asking Dave if he wanted to do anything.

The Brummer was a fantastic dive. The visibility was much better than The Prince William, so that left us a little more flexibility to have a play about inside(ish). We ventured around the bridge, capstans, a strange criss-cross section that was most likely part of the salvage operation, and went for a venture inside; well sort of...



We reached a hole in the hull, and as usual Kerri squirrelled off into it. Dave followed her; because that's what Dave does - follows Kerri into black holes. As Dave manipulated his twin 16's through a gap i decided i would provide a light source and visual reference, thinking that they'd come and signal the all clear once they'd found a path. I hovered above the tear in the wreck and waited. I waited a little more. I became lonely. It appeared they weren't coming back for me. I was upset.




I didn't really fancy going after them, alone, so my single majority vote was to fin along the edge of the wreck hoping Kerri and Dave had popped out somewhere. Cruising along i soon spotted a dive light; excellent. Closer inspection revealed John Bellchamber, and I figured he would do as my new buddy.

John Bellchamber, NOT me.

As i approached John i noted Kerri and Dave were following him. I signalled my so called team, and they looked decidedly surprised. Once on land i found out they had mistaken John for me (as we both had blue gloves apparently), and latched onto him as they exited the wreck.


Nice to know I'm so easily replaced.


"Hello John ... sorry, i mean Andy ..."



Post dive, Helen the feeder had a steaming chicken curry waiting and within 15 minutes our group had it cleaned. The three course dinner needed walked off again, so Kerri and I took Helen's advice and investigated the mountain walk. It was a lovely evening for it, but it was a tad steep and a little like hard work for my blood!



We negated a beer, mostly in fear of the pub charging me for toilet destruction the night before, and headed back to our ship. Once aboard we found Dave hunched over the DVD collection, finally selecting Django.

We settled down to watch it and half way through the feeder appeared with a giant bowl of popcorn - fantastic!



Django is a great film, but rather long, especially when Dave sang along with the soundtrack once he'd got the hang of the chorus - "Django!" At about 10.30 i left Djave and Django to it.




The morning came to soon, and with cereal sorted we prepared for the biggest dive of the week - the legendary Markgraf. At 44m it would be the deepest dive of the week, and was one of the largest of the German Fleet.


I was crazy with anticipation, but wary as i knew some divers had rather unpleasant experiences 'inside' the wreck. We were still operating as a trio, Joe had abandoned us completely in favour of a scooter and Martin Robson; obviously not a fussy lad.




"BRIEFING IN THE LOUNGE!"



Kerri analysed her gas and noted the mix was a little hypoxic. I had a quick word with Rob, and both he and Hazel were on deck within minutes to get it sorted.


"It just needs mixed."


Rob explained as he untied Kerri's twinset. I was curious as to what he was doing, then i was slightly terrified as Rob picked up Kerri's entire twinset (with v-weights) and shook it like a baby's rattle.


"That should do it."


Re-analysing proved it still to be unsuitable. Undeterred, Hazel gave instruction about draining this, and adding that. Rob nodded and got to work. Ten minutes later we had an appropriate mix and were descending onto the Markgraf.


SMS MARKGRAF




An interesting feature of The Markgraf wreck is the location of the anchor chain. When the wreck sank, it turtled, and as it did the anchor chain wrapped around the hull. The sheer mass of the wreck made the concept inconceivable to me, and seeing the humongous chain in real life wrapped so tightly around the hull was crazy. For some reason it really emphasised how much weight was in the battleship, and i could visualise the huge ship rolling over like a monster as it hauled the anchor chain over on itself. I found myself on the hull of the ship just glaring at the chain when Dave and Kerri signalled me to move along. Mesmerising.




We had a definite plan to descend the the full depth of the bow, and headed straight for it. It took a few minutes, but we soon reached the end of the wreck, lined up in front of the ship and shone our three powerful lights onto the pointy bit; and descended. The bow was like a knife edge, and seemed to go on forever as we descended to the seafloor. It was quite a sight and i remember it vividly; followed by Dave digging a hole on the seabed to get his 45m.






Burger and chips done, we got ourselves ready for a little bimble on the Seydlitz. The Seydlitz dive was a bit of a treasure hunt / navigation exercise. A few of the guys on board didn't feel it was worth diving, but i had great fun. My navigation has always been, well, challenged.



"BRIEFING IN THE LOUNGE!"


SEYDLITZ




Amazingly we found everything on Hazel's treasure map board. We descended on top of the lens, which was particularly cool; the solid brass fan shaped light reflector would never have lasted in Ireland, and would definitely be buried under a lawn mower in someones shed. I triumphed by leading Team Ireland to the crane, spotting tower, gun turret and a gun ... i think.

Kerri over the lens

Dave on holiday

me preparing to bag off

Kerri was in charge of the zero deco obligation, and we attempted a two-man version of shooting the smb. The benefits were negligible; i still struggled to completely fill the 'big' smb from shallow water. A lazy ascent followed, and Rob's impressive beard soon welcomed us back aboard.


Kit doffed and gas ordered, we sat down to another of Helen's spectacular feasts; lasagna, garlic bread and apple crumble - accompanied by no less than two litres of custard. Mmmmmm ... custard. Dinner done, we proceeded to get dressed up for a night of story telling; i did mention that before, right?



Perhaps not...



The Orkney Story Telling Incident


The night that followed deserves a thorough explanation, and before i begin i would like to state, for the record, that i hold my twitter chum Louise and her husband Darren entirely responsible. ENTIRELY RESPONSIBLE.


Darren
"Let's all go to a story telling night!"

Let me go back in time a little, to the ferry crossing from Thurso, where we met our Scapa diving chum Darren's wife; Louise. In her polite Scottish accent Louise asked Kerri, Dave and I if we would like to accompany her (along with Darren and her parents) to a story telling evening on Orkney. Being polite, Kerri and I agreed, under the guise there would be a log fire, a pub, and beer involved. Louise assured us there would be beer, and we looked forward to the night out with our new buddies, and their family.



Flash forward to the night in question.



The story telling evening was being held several miles away, and Kerri kindly agreed to drive to the 'pub' where the event was taking place. Darren led the way in his land rover, and the Ford Boring trundled behind containing Kerri, Dave, Joe and myself.


After 30 mins we began to get concerned, especially Joe, being so young and all; but thankfully we arrived in due course. As we stepped out of the car he whole thing became a little bit mental.



"This doesn't look like a pub Darren...?"

"No ... er ... i think it's some guys house?"


Our band of story lovers approached the entrance to the not-pub, where an eccentric middle aged gentleman in a body warmer tapped each of us for £10, and promptly guided us into his house.

"Do you like my floor?"

I stood, mildly concerned, in a weird living room with old books scattered across various tables. Then the nervous laughter began. The strange man in the body warmer informed us we should embrace the culture of Orkney by looking through the books, sit by the log fire and contemplate death, before the stories commenced. Well, it was something like that.

Joe and his book of DEATH!

Dave afraid his holiday was over!

Joe found a hidden message

Kerri gives up and joins in



At this point i had decided the whole thing was a very bad idea, and contemplated how to escape, but figured it was obviously a scam and probably wouldn't take very long. Oh the irony. Louise had no friends from then on. Another ten people or so joined us in the living room, including some very over enthusiastic Americans, who attempted to converse with me:



"Isn't the place amazing?" 
"Er, aye. Aye it is." 
"Oh, are you Irish? I love your accent. I'm one tenth Irish, and we've been to Liverpool." 
"..."


The evening proceeded to become mental-ler and mental-ler. The man in the body warmer came in and we fell silent, concerned he was actually going to murder someone then and there. He didn't. In fact, i wish he had murdered me, as he proceeded to explain the history of his floor. Yes, his FLOOR. The body warmer man then produced a stone from his pocket, that he 'believed' was older than Christ, or at the very least, older than the floor.


Recovering from that bombshell, he led us into the main room where we sat down for stories.




A log fire crackled, but there was no beer; it was clear Louise had misled us, obviously hated us, and wanted to punish us gravely for some misdemeanour from another life. God how she must have hated us.

A strange, homeless lady, in a shawl, told various stories about what, I'm not entirely sure. They included a killer 'stoor worm,' a man called 'Ass-y Paddle,' little creatures living in hills that liked the fiddle, some truly dire over-dramatisation, and it took the crazy bitch over four hours to tell. Four hours. Four hours. Four. Fucking. Hours. Louise must hate us so.

Torture room


But, the mental wasn't over.



We sighed relief as the mentalist put the puppet down and concluded her stories, but then she began to explain the meaning behind each tale. I genuinely thought I'd died on the Markgraf and entered some obscene Orkney-purgatory.


When she finally, finally, stopped rabbiting on, the Americans added to the insanity by producing a couple of fiddles (which i presume they brought from America) and their children joined the resident lunatic in playing a few Orkney tunes. By that point i knew i had left purgatory, and reached hell.



"...and that concludes our Orkney story telling evening."


It was nearly midnight. We continued to sit for another few minutes to ensure the mental was over. It was. Without a sound, our band of story lovers filtered passed body warmer man, ignored the photocopied fifty pence leaflets, and slipped silently into our respective vehicles. The drive home was subdued.




No one has spoken of that night since.




No one has spoken to Louise since.




Part 1
 - Part 2 - Part 3








Review: Diving In Darkness DVD - A film by Christine Grosart

Diving In Darkness - A Film By Christine Grosart



Cave diving is something that both intrigues me, and frightens me to death; the latter being the more acute reaction. I have watched many a GUE video of the main men cruising through the crystal clear waters of Mexico, France or Florida; this film bears little resemblance to that, and what I understood as 'cave diving.'

Diving In Darkness offers a gritty, cold, and severe account of UK cave diving. It is filmed and produced by Christine Grosart, an avid UK cave diver, who also provides the narration for the film as well as starring.





The film is broken into very definite chapters that look at individual cave systems within the UK. The film features Pridhamsleigh Cave, Swildons Hole, Cheddar Gough, a welsh cave system and Boreham caves. Each section has an historical introduction to the area, an overview of the system itself, and any previous cave exploration. Interviews with cave explorers Steve Thomas and Clive Westlake are very interesting. I particularly enjoyed the segment with Steve Thomas; his passion for caving is very infectious and he provided a wonderful account of developing the 'always look up rule' when exploring a cave.


The film is well shot and creates an excellent timeline of divers arriving at a site, transferring dive equipment to the cave, kitting up, crawling through dry sections, and finally diving through sumps to reach the more hidden secrets held underground. Christine provides excellent narration throughout the film ensuring the watcher doesn't get lost between sites.

(c) Christine Grosart

(c) Christine Grosart
(c) Christine Grosart

Despite watching the film with my eyes half closed, and making statements such as "seriously - that's mental!" or "why would you do that to yourself?"; it is very enjoyable. Some of the shots are fantastic; a particular emphasis must be placed on the lighting - which is brilliant. I particularly enjoyed the Cheddar Cave shots of the divers in the more open sections; the backlighting is excellent. The film reaches a peak when the watcher is treated to the infamous "China Shop" section; a photo of which graces the DVD cover.


"The China Shop"
(c) Christine Grosart



Concluding the film is a 'making of' section that allows the viewer to appreciate the extreme difficulty in undertaking such a venture, never-mind with such a small team. 

It was also intriguing to learn how the aerial shots were filmed, and laugh at the out takes; look out for GUE instructor Rich Walker being censored in a particularly tight section of a sump.






The film is obviously a labour of love (taking 2 years to make), and although not professionally produced, is far from amateur. The film looked well on my posh TV, the sound was good, and the menu system was perfect. Overall the film is excellent, and well worth £10 (plus p&p) - go buy it.




LINK: Wetwellies




Scapa Flow 2013 - PART TWO: Ctrl + F8 = HMS Carlsberg


The second day of our Scapa Flow adventure started early, very early. I don't really do early and have been known, if left unattended, to sleep for up to 16 hours; so it was quite a shock to the system to be up before 8am. I was both excited and nervous about the pending dives, so that was enough to get me out of the very comfortable bunk bed and wander around the ship.

The Valkyrie was immaculate from top to bottom. UK weather and UK diving is hard on everything, so i was continually surprised to find how fresh everything looked aboard; not to mention the fact that everything actually worked. TV worked, tumble drier worked, all the breakfast stuff worked, lights worked, toilet worked; it was all very cool. Attention to details says a lot about an operation, so i was fairly confident the president had been set.

Dinner table
Galley
Mid-ships
Drysuit space and benches
Living room


Breakfast was the first task of the day. I'm prone to a little bacon for brekky, but when I'm diving i don't like to 'bag myself up' so usually go for the more boring cereal option; i know - the horror. Helen, the cooking person, had organised a cereal section, toasting facilities, tea/coffee and an egg machine. 


The egg machine fascinated me, and despite not eating eggs i was tempted to have a go out of pure curiosity. That said, Martin Robson appeared to struggle with it and he's a technical diving instructor, so it was probably best for the safety of others i kept away from it.









The diving kicked off almost immediately after breakfast. I had retired to the living room bit when Hazel entered, plonked herself in front of the TV, propped up a whiteboard showing a map of a shipwreck and bellowed:

"BRIEFING IN THE LOUNGE!"

Her deep Scottish accent demanded obedience, and divers scuttled from around the ship fighting for space on the sofas. I was just glad i wasn't last.



SMS CARLSBERG KARLSRUHE

I'm completely crap when it comes to dive briefings, they only make sense to me AFTER I've finished the dive, but Hazel's briefing was up there with the best of them. 

The Skipper had obviously a vast knowledge of the wrecks, and was able to provide an excellent history of events and highlight areas of note on the wreck itself worth investigating. 



Wreck info: 

SMS Karlsruhe was a light cruiser of the Königsberg class, built for the Kaiserliche Marine (Imperial Navy) during World War I. She was named after the earlier Karlsruhe, which had sunk in November 1914, from an accidental explosion. The new cruiser was laid down in 1914 at the Kaiserliche Werft shipyard in Kiel, launched in January 1916, and commissioned into the High Seas Fleet in November 1916. Armed with eight 15 cm SK L/45 guns, the ship had a top speed of 27.5 kn (50.9 km/h; 31.6 mph). Karlsruhe was interned in Scapa Flow after the end of the war, and scuttled there on 21 June 1919. [SOURCE: Wikipedia]



Kerri, Dave and I decided on a dive plan. Gases were simple - 32% and 100%, minimum gas was established, and we calculated we had loads of time. Then a slight problem arose; Orkney was suffering from a lack of oxygen. Initially i was concerned the good people of Orkney were dropping in the street unable to breathe due to some global-warming-apocalyptic-catastrophe; but thankfully that was not the case. 

zero oxygen in Orkney!


It transpired J cylinders of O2 had not arrived as scheduled. Coupled with the fact we had to travel with empty cylinders, team Ireland had to change the dive plan somewhat.


Rob, the third crew member of The Valkyrie, was left the unfortunate task of informing us of said deficit, and subsequently coming up with a solution. Thankfully Rob was able to squeeze enough O2 from his limited supply and grant us 32% backgas, but no deco cylinders. I had a sad. A quick chat with Kerri, and we agreed to simply keep an eye on average depth and manipulate the dive accordingly; accruing no more than 5 mins deco on backgas. Crisis averted. 

We then assigned the team; Kerri was deco captain, Joe was bagging off, i was visual reference and Dave was ... well, Dave was on holiday.



MILKY JOE

As we got our kit sorted and donned the fabulous Santi's, Joe asked if it was ok if he joined us. I knew Joe was a GUE Tech 1 diver so i said that was no problem; we had the same training and would all be on the same page. Then i noted Joe's set up.

"Eh, yeah ... diving with us is cool; but you're going to have to talk me through ... eh ... that."

Joe smirked:

"It's pretty straight forward. It's just an Inspiration Classic, with a few mods." 

"Aye. A few mods. Right."

Milky Joe's tumble dryer

Personally i thought it looked like a tumble dryer. I have no experience with rebreathers at all, and had never buddied up with a rebreather diver before. Joe gave me a quick rundown:

"If i look dead - close this, then bring me to the surface please. Dump air with this button and this button. If you need gas i'll give you this reg, but i'd like you to move to another OC diver in our team after we get you sorted." 

"Eh, cool."


I had never dived from a ship like The Valkyrie before, and i have to admit i was a little nervous, and so conducted a brief chat with Rob to make sure i knew what the craic was. Rob was very helpful and kept it nice and simple for me; and also slightly amused due to his Yorkshire (?) accent:



"You giant stride out the hole in the hull here, and make it a goodn'" 
"Ok, and getting back in?" 
 "I'll lower the lift. Step onto it. Hold the handles and nod at me. I'll lift ye up, then step off and sit down. I'll then bring ye a tea or hot choccy. Ok?" 

I nodded; half concerned he would lift me up there and then.

"I mean, eh, Ok."




Skipper Hazel soon demonstrated she'd done this a few time before when dropping us in. I could see Rob muttering into a headset of some description, and we were promptly asked to stand and make our way to 'hole in té hull.' Dutifully Team Ireland followed Joe, and on command from Rob, we plummeted into the dark cold water beneath. I signalled OK and the current gently moved me to the shot line; oh yeah, Hazel had done that plenty times before.

Our team gathered and descended the shot line. Bubble check with Joe revealed i had a slight leak at my tank valve. Joe approached and between us we closed valves, reseated first stages, and got things back on track. The process was smooth and simple, a tech 1 scenario played out a million times - GUE training in action, awesome.

At the bottom of the shot line our team gathered again and Joe led the way. When i say 'led' i mean took off like a mad man. At one point i had to double check he didn't have a scooter. We finally caught Joe, curbed his enthusiasm somewhat, and explored the wreck.

Dave trying to keep up with Joe
Kerri in the middle of wreck, as usual
Hugeness!


It was a massive chunk of metal. I couldn't really get to grips with the orientation of it. The visibility was ok, but a cloudy 6m made getting a good idea of the scale tricky enough. We did manage to find the control tower and the huge anchor, as well as some pretty cool swim throughs. We found a particularly dark section towards the end of the dive, and i have to admit my curiosity was spiked, but it was VERY dark...



The dive concluded, our team got sorted, and Joe bagged off as promised. Kerri led the ascent, I provided a visual reference, and Dave ... well, Dave was on holiday.


As we bobbed on the surface, it was very impressive to watch as Hazel steered the enormous vessel that came to rest just before us. It was then time to tackle the lift which was just as Rob explained; a totally straight forward process.





He wasn't joking about the tea either!

Tea and choccy!


LUNCH


The Valkyrie is renowned for it's food and i was looking forward to testing it out. Lunch was hot soup and rolls; perfect after a cold water adventure, yet light enough not to make the next dive uncomfortable. It was gorgeous, accompanied by the lunchtime discussion on the topic of anal bleaching. Don't ask; but the consensus was some assholes do need to lighten up.



A healthy surface interval later ...


"BRIEFING IN THE LOUNGE!"


F8 F2 (3 WRECKS)


I scarpered for a seat on the sofa, making sure Hazel knew i wasn't the last to attend, and did my best to memorise the information she provided; badly. It was an interesting site as it enabled three dives, on one dive, so to speak. There was the F8, or F2 i mean, a crane that was salvaging the wreck and was pulled underwater when they moored too tightly, and finally a dive boat that also moored and forgot about tidal shifts. Thankfully lines were attached to the wrecks, so no one could miss them!



Our team gathered and the plan was to hit the barge, then head over to the F8, i mean F2. Once on the F2 we would see how things were and maybe head out to the dive boat. It was a shallow dive at 18m, so we had loads of options. We elected to dive in buddy pairs, as the visibility didn't lend itself well to a large team, but would probably end up ascending together. Kerri was deco captain once more, i would shoot the bag if Joe wasn't about, and Dave, well ... Dave was on holiday.

I actually enjoyed the crane on the barge section the most. Kerri and I had a great wee nosey through some doorways, and i had to admit i was sorely tempted to line off for a wee look-see; but i didn't - cause I'm pretty much afraid of inside things underwater. A resident conger also poked his head out. A short while later we tagged on with Joe & Dave and headed over to the F2. The F2 was very badly broken up, but still very cool, and it was definitely weird to look at it's guns located somewhere else!

Joe and his tumble dryer

Kerri leaving the crane


Collectively we ended up at another line, which obviously led to the dive boat. I signalled to Joe if he fancied it, to which he OK'd, and the four of us finned for several minutes to the dive boat. I felt shame, bearing in mind there was a 'proper' war wreck not 50m away, but we did have lots of fun on the little dive boat. It was just cool to dive something that i was able to associate with - we had a blast.

Eventually we managed to drain sufficient gas from our twinsets and headed for the surface; Rob's ever pleasant bearded face beckoning with the promise of tea and hot choccy. I enjoy when such little gestures become an expected routine. Another growing routine was Helen the feeder. Once we had sorted the gear, and donned a more civilised attire, Helen provided us with cake; a monstrous cake, a fabulous, tasty, cake. I ate some. 

sight seeing from The Valkyrie


After cake we had a couple of hours to get back to shore; so i tidied up some bits and pieces whilst watching the rebreatherer people deconstruct and construct their mental machines. I'm not sure I've the mindset for those things, but i did enjoy being talked through the ins and outs of Bruce's Inspiration; even if he does carry an underwater man-bag.


As i dozed in the lounge a bell clanged to signify dinner was ready - hurrah! Two giant trays of venison shepherd's pie were presented on the galley table as part of our 3 course meal. As i expected, dinner was fabulous; and i don't even like shepherds pie. I ate too much, as i expected. Post dinner, Helen kindly provided our group with keen directions for a seal walk along the shore.

chimps tea party



Kerri and I enjoyed a relaxing dander along the sea front, but alas no seals.

old bunker
Hamnaove ferry
Sunset of Age



Having conducted some exercise and healthy activities i decided i deserved a beer; so we found ourselves a pub and did just that. Only one beer mind you. The single beer could have been attributed to the weird old man that sat beside me but refused to acknowledge my existence when i politely spoke; or perhaps when i finally noted the 'toilet broken' sign on the toilet door, right after i .. i'd best leave that there.



Back on The Valkyrie, Wifebuddy disappeared to bed, whilst I stayed up and watched a DVD, accompanied by a few others; not omitting Dave and his guffin' feet.









Part 1
 - Part 2 - Part 3