I'm not sure where to post this, so it's going here where I do most of my postings, unless it gets moved to the appropriate spot.
It's rather lengthy, hopefully not too boring, but it is my first report, and I can get kinda wordy at times...................
The stage was set several months ago. I was going once again to the wreck that I hadnt even known existed 3 short years ago.
My trip this year was to be with Tyler Bradford aboard Dany St-Cyrs Zodiac. Two firsts for me. I found diving on the Zodiacs to be as easy as Tyler had said it would be.
I had met Tyler the year before, on my first Empress trip. It was there that I had learned just how well he knew this wreck, its history, and the people who dove it.
My fellow team members consisted of Tyler, Lisa, a friend who was certified with myself, and Paul, a fellow who I would soon learn I could rely on when things got a little nastier than I had expected them to get.
Dive day one consisted of the usual Get to know it tour of the externals of the bow. It was comforting to know that I had remembered most of this small part of the ships layout. It was a chance for the other two members to relieve the First Dive tension. My dive buddy, Lisa, called the dive and I was leading back to the up-line. We had done a lazy tour over the now non-existent port-side stairs of the Shelter Deck, down across the 2nd and 3rd cargo hatches, over the 3rd class entrance, which still held the bottom remains of the forward mast. We had then slipped over the breakwater wall, and made our turn towards the port side. I think it was at this point that Lisa had gotten her first taste of just how massive this ship really is. I had made a point of mentioning earlier, an easy marker point of locating where you were on the top-side of the bow, which for me was always the unmistakable dip of the hull between the bow and the first class bulkhead. We had just gotten to the rear section of it, when I received the Where the heck are we universal hand-sign that weve all given at one time or another. Fortunately, this time, I knew. I motioned This way, and within moments we were in sight of the safety of the up-line.
We managed to get in a second dive on this first day, a feat that would happen only once more for the rest of the trip. The second dive would be a duplicate of the first, with the addition of continuing forward to the very tip of the bow and then drifting down to view the port side anchor. The currents had been nice to us on these first two dives, and the water a balmy 37 degrees with 15ft of vis.
Day two was lead by Tyler. Our plan was to penetrate the explosion hole, a 15ft irregular hole made shortly after the sinking, to allow for access to the pursers safe, and dropped down the 70 degree grade of the Shelter Deck to the steam ovens of the first class galley. We drifted down past what would become an early marker, a lone chair still in place. The remnants of the table bases, brass retainers, were the only evidence left of the once elegant 1st class Dining room chattels.
Our second dive of the day would be our last multiple dive day due to the whims of nature. We had decided to video the Main Staircase via the 1st class Gangway door, before penetrating again, the explosion hole to the galley for some footage. The water temperature was 39 degrees, and would not be getting any warmer.
Day three was blown out by South-west winds at 15 to 20 knots. I had learned that the best winds were South winds. South-West was probably next best, but would not necessarily guarantee a dive due to wave formation being whipped up by the long trek straight down the St. Lawrence. The dreaded North Easterly winds were a one-way ticket to a very bad day. We spent the day cleaning gear and repairing what would become a problematic thorn in my side, a video light head that insisted on eating glass lenses and trashing the electrical connectors and bulbs, with the entry of the sea-water. We also took advantage of the down-time to visit the CPR mass grave site of 68 souls lost in 14 minutes, May 29, 1914. From there we had back to Pointe-au-Pere, the location of the Musee de la Mer.
We opted to dine out this evening, a decision that would remain the same for the balance of the trip. This evening Le Cactus a local hot-spot watering hole got in the way, and it was 11:00PM before I managed to tear the others from the Two-for-one Molson specials. My stomach found contentment next door at Le Maison du Spaghetti. We had managed to make some new friends at Le Cactus. We sat down with several more people than we had arrived with. I had made some more acquaintances, and ones that I would see again and again for the balance of the week. My new friends consistent of two brothers from Victoriaville, Serge and Jacques Tardis. Together they had logged almost 300 dives on the Empress. Also with them was a younger fellow named Robin. The language barrier had made its first real impass. Dany St-Cyr, the King of the Empress, also originally from Victoriaville, managed to pull himself away from filling tanks to dine with us. His good friend Simon Pelletier , Instructor, safety diver, videographer and full-time paramedic also joined us. Simon would be our full-time interpreter (For those of us requiring it) and reservation maker. He also seemed to fancy my dive buddy, Lisa. A suspicion that was confirmed later in the week, when we hadnt even left the province and she had gotten two e-mails from him on our ride home at the conclusion of our trip.
to be continued...............
It's rather lengthy, hopefully not too boring, but it is my first report, and I can get kinda wordy at times...................
The stage was set several months ago. I was going once again to the wreck that I hadnt even known existed 3 short years ago.
My trip this year was to be with Tyler Bradford aboard Dany St-Cyrs Zodiac. Two firsts for me. I found diving on the Zodiacs to be as easy as Tyler had said it would be.
I had met Tyler the year before, on my first Empress trip. It was there that I had learned just how well he knew this wreck, its history, and the people who dove it.
My fellow team members consisted of Tyler, Lisa, a friend who was certified with myself, and Paul, a fellow who I would soon learn I could rely on when things got a little nastier than I had expected them to get.
Dive day one consisted of the usual Get to know it tour of the externals of the bow. It was comforting to know that I had remembered most of this small part of the ships layout. It was a chance for the other two members to relieve the First Dive tension. My dive buddy, Lisa, called the dive and I was leading back to the up-line. We had done a lazy tour over the now non-existent port-side stairs of the Shelter Deck, down across the 2nd and 3rd cargo hatches, over the 3rd class entrance, which still held the bottom remains of the forward mast. We had then slipped over the breakwater wall, and made our turn towards the port side. I think it was at this point that Lisa had gotten her first taste of just how massive this ship really is. I had made a point of mentioning earlier, an easy marker point of locating where you were on the top-side of the bow, which for me was always the unmistakable dip of the hull between the bow and the first class bulkhead. We had just gotten to the rear section of it, when I received the Where the heck are we universal hand-sign that weve all given at one time or another. Fortunately, this time, I knew. I motioned This way, and within moments we were in sight of the safety of the up-line.
We managed to get in a second dive on this first day, a feat that would happen only once more for the rest of the trip. The second dive would be a duplicate of the first, with the addition of continuing forward to the very tip of the bow and then drifting down to view the port side anchor. The currents had been nice to us on these first two dives, and the water a balmy 37 degrees with 15ft of vis.
Day two was lead by Tyler. Our plan was to penetrate the explosion hole, a 15ft irregular hole made shortly after the sinking, to allow for access to the pursers safe, and dropped down the 70 degree grade of the Shelter Deck to the steam ovens of the first class galley. We drifted down past what would become an early marker, a lone chair still in place. The remnants of the table bases, brass retainers, were the only evidence left of the once elegant 1st class Dining room chattels.
Our second dive of the day would be our last multiple dive day due to the whims of nature. We had decided to video the Main Staircase via the 1st class Gangway door, before penetrating again, the explosion hole to the galley for some footage. The water temperature was 39 degrees, and would not be getting any warmer.
Day three was blown out by South-west winds at 15 to 20 knots. I had learned that the best winds were South winds. South-West was probably next best, but would not necessarily guarantee a dive due to wave formation being whipped up by the long trek straight down the St. Lawrence. The dreaded North Easterly winds were a one-way ticket to a very bad day. We spent the day cleaning gear and repairing what would become a problematic thorn in my side, a video light head that insisted on eating glass lenses and trashing the electrical connectors and bulbs, with the entry of the sea-water. We also took advantage of the down-time to visit the CPR mass grave site of 68 souls lost in 14 minutes, May 29, 1914. From there we had back to Pointe-au-Pere, the location of the Musee de la Mer.
We opted to dine out this evening, a decision that would remain the same for the balance of the trip. This evening Le Cactus a local hot-spot watering hole got in the way, and it was 11:00PM before I managed to tear the others from the Two-for-one Molson specials. My stomach found contentment next door at Le Maison du Spaghetti. We had managed to make some new friends at Le Cactus. We sat down with several more people than we had arrived with. I had made some more acquaintances, and ones that I would see again and again for the balance of the week. My new friends consistent of two brothers from Victoriaville, Serge and Jacques Tardis. Together they had logged almost 300 dives on the Empress. Also with them was a younger fellow named Robin. The language barrier had made its first real impass. Dany St-Cyr, the King of the Empress, also originally from Victoriaville, managed to pull himself away from filling tanks to dine with us. His good friend Simon Pelletier , Instructor, safety diver, videographer and full-time paramedic also joined us. Simon would be our full-time interpreter (For those of us requiring it) and reservation maker. He also seemed to fancy my dive buddy, Lisa. A suspicion that was confirmed later in the week, when we hadnt even left the province and she had gotten two e-mails from him on our ride home at the conclusion of our trip.
to be continued...............