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Dive sites: SS Maori

I have done one prior dive on the SS Maori, about a year ago. It was one of the most unpleasant experiences of my life, one I am not keen to repeat. The boat ride was harrowing – we took the narrow channel between Duiker Island and the mainland, and I had my eyes closed for most of it. I am not a good sailor, but Tony is, and even he was seeing his life flash before his eyes. Huge waves were coming from all directions and we later learned that the skipper had been so terrified negotiating the channel that he’d called the owner of the dive shop as soon as he’d dropped the divers into the water, and practically sobbed.

We were actually intending to visit the BOS 400, but when we got there the surge through the wreck was incredibly strong and the entire superstructure was creaking ominously. A call was made to go to the SS Maori instead – it’s a couple of hundred metres from the crane and the wreck is scattered on the seabed rather than being still mostly intact. The dive itself was extremely stressful – maybe 3 metres visibility, temperatures so cold that I sucked my tank dry in about 20 minutes (ended up on Tony’s octo), strong surge on the bottom that made it impossible to control where one was going, and I honestly didn’t see anything that I could describe as a wreck.

The experience we had diving the Maori on Reconcilation Day could not have been more different. Tami and I were finishing our Wreck Specialty course, Cecil was finishing his Open Water course, and Tony had a group of casual divers with him. The boat ride was a pleasure, apart from the smell (or rather, taste!) of the seals on Duiker Island as we sped past. The water was so blue that Grant could see the wreck below us while he dropped the shot line.

The SS Maori ran aground in Maori Bay (named after it) in 1909 in thick fog. The ship lies perpendicular to the mainland, depth ranging from about 6 metres down to about 22 metres towards the centre of the bay. The ship was carrying a cargo of railway lines, cast iron pipes (visible in great stacks that are very tempting to try and swim through – common sense won out), explosives, and crockery. A fair amount of beautiful porcelain is still visible on the site, but apparently it’s been well worked and looted over the years.

The visiblity on this dive was sufficient (20 metres or so) for us to be able to see far down the ship as we explored. Parts of the wreckage are very broken up, but there are large parts of the wreck that are relatively intact. We descended on the engine block, at the shallow end of the wreck, and into beautiful kelp forests that glistened green in the clear water. It was cold, very cold, but having something amazing to look at tends to distract one from the inconvenience of chilly fingers.

As far as sea life goes, there’s a fair amount of kelp and other sea plants. Oscar found me a huge cuttlefish to photograph, just posing nicely on a rock, and there were some molluscs, the odd nudibranch, lots and lots of rock lobsters and crabs. We also saw a nice school of hottentot. Like the BOS 400, though, you visit this site first to look at the wreckage. Anything else you see is a bonus.

I can see why the Maori is such a popular dive site – we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and Tami and I were heartbroken when we had to ascend, as our air reached 70 bar. It’s a very large site and several dives are required to appreciate its full scope. I plan to do those several dives, and then some!

Dive date: 16 December 2010

Air temperature: 23 degrees

Water temperature: 4 degrees (that’s what my computer said!)

Maximum depth: 19.9 metres

Visibility: 20 metres

Dive duration: 32 minutes

Dive sites: Shark Alley

If you’re a Cape Town diver, I certainly hope you’ve taken advantage of the incredible – I repeat, incredible – shark diving opportunity that is right on your doorstep. I’m not talking about shysharks… I’ve got the sevengill cowsharks at Shark Alley, just inshore of Pyramid Rock, in mind.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A-vP7W5TEBk&w=540]

Shark Alley is a shore entry site just past Miller’s Point, though it’s a tricky climb down the hill and over the rocks so many dive centres do boat dives there as well. The maximum depth is about 12 metres, and the site is characterised by beautiful pink-encrusted rocks, sea urchins, and waving kelp fronds. That’s not why divers go there, however. They go there to visit the cowsharks.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fiZs3YOG1-c&w=540]

Just a few metres offshore, in a bare patch in a V-shaped space in the kelp, we settle on the sandy bottom and wait for the sharks. They don’t disappoint – Shark Alley is their meeting place, where they hang out during the day, and you’re almost guaranteed a sighting or five.

Tony and a cowshark - I love this picture, looks like he's hiding in the kelp... But the shark is behind him!

These beautiful creatures grow to up to 3 metres in length – a lot of fish – and are curious, swimming close to divers to take a look. You can see their eyes following you as they pass by, close enough to touch… But don’t!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoiQSWdaSnU&w=540]

Not much is known about these sharks. They are ambush predators, hunting in packs, in poor visibility (so a night dive or a dive at Shark Alley when the sea is very murky is something to think about very carefully). They eat other sharks, seals, fish, and pretty much anything they can get their teeth into.

Sevengill cowshark that swam underneath me on a dive

We’ve seen as many as 15 different sharks on one dive, and on repeat dives we have recognised the same specimens over and over. Many of the sharks have big bite and tooth marks on their sides, and bits out of their fins… Some of this is from mating behaviour (apparently a bit violent), but possibly also from fights between the sharks. They will eat each other if the opportunity arises, being fairly indiscriminate when it comes to diet.

It’s not clear whether they leave Shark Alley at night to go hunting, or whether it’s a place they come to to rest, socialise, or hide. The actual number of cowsharks passing in and out of False Bay isn’t clear either – we don’t know what fraction of the total population the sharks we see at Shark Alley represent.

Some of the sharks we see have white spots on their backs – one in particular we call Tipp-Ex because of the size and number of spots. The spots are caused by a fungus – I’m not sure if it’s harmful to the sharks, and whether they catch it from one another through contact when feeding or mating.

[youtube=http://il.youtube.com/watch?v=aIKU_peK7Fs&w=540]

The photos in this post were taken on the same dive during which we had a close encounter with a very confident female cowshark. You can see that the visibility was extremely poor (so apologies for the photo quality!). The video footage is from prior dives.

Nitrogen narcosis

On a dive this past weekend to the SAS Good Hope in Smitswinkel Bay I had the pleasure of experiencing nitrogen narcosis for the first time, and it wasn’t pleasant. I was diving on Nitrox 34%, doing my 70th dive, and was with Tony, Kate, Tami and Justin. The surface conditions were magnificent, I was feeling well rested and looking forward to another visit to the Smitswinkel Bay wrecks. The visibility was not great – water was very green, rather cold (14 degrees) and we could see maybe four metres maximum.

Tony and Kate were coming down very slowly because her ears were hurting. They had to ascend for a while and come back down, so I continued my descent on the shot line with Tami and Justin. We were – I am pretty sure – going quite slowly, because the skipper had let out a lot of line and large portions of it were almost horizontal in the water. At about 25 metres I started to have a hot, lightheaded feeling that felt a bit like pins and needles in my scalp. It felt like my field of vision was narrowing (even more than it usually does on deep dives), and that I was about to black out. I couldn’t think properly – didn’t feel good.

The solution for most diving problems seems to be “ascend a few metres and wait for the effects to dissipate”, and that was all I could think to do. I grabbed the line – took several tries – and went up about three metres, hoping like heck that the feeling would pass. My intention had been to descend to the deck, which is at about 30 metres, and explore there, but Tami and Justin, who were on air, rocketed down to the sand far below. I could see Tami spreadeagled like a starfish metres below me, and wasn’t even sure she was conscious (I have a vivid imagination). If she was feeling the same way I was, there was no way I could go and fetch her and slap some sense into her until my head cleared. It was at this point that I started to feel quite strong anxiety, also a symptom of narcosis.

Fortunately after a few seconds (I think – hard to tell how much time passed) I started to feel better, and resumed my slow descent. This time I got past 25 metres without feeling strange, and was able to go all the way to 30 metres comfortably. I had reached the deck of the ship, but was reluctant to go further in case I started feeling odd again. I was also very cognisant of not exceeding the maximum depth limit for the Nitrox mix I was using (34% allows you to go to a maximum depth of 31 metres and an ABSOLUTE maximum of 37 metres). Then I tried desperately to get the attention of my two buddies to tell them to come up a bit so that our dive time would not be too short and so that they’d have enough air to enjoy it!

After the dive I floated on the surface with Kate and Justin, laughing like a drain. Probably unrelated to the narcosis and more just relief that everyone had surfaced safely… But Justin said he wanted some of whatever I was breathing!

Chilling on the surface in Smitswinkel Bay, looking like a spaceman

While I didn’t particularly enjoy the experience of being narced (if it was indeed that and not a mild case of oxygen toxicity – the initial symptoms are similar), I am glad that I now know what it feels like, and that the recommended solution – ascending a couple of metres – works, and fast. I’m also relieved that my brain still worked enough to implement that solution. This wasn’t my first deep dive, it wasn’t the deepest dive I’ve ever done, I am not a new diver, and the descent wasn’t ridiculously fast… So I guess this can happen at any time. The causes don’t seem to be terribly well understood. I’ll chalk it up to experience.

Diving in the Lagoon Tank at uShaka Marine World

On the first of our two days in Durban after the Sodwana trip, Tony and I did one of our most favourite things: we went for a dive in the aquarium at uShaka Marine World. Tony used to work at Calypso Dive and Adventure Centre, based at uShaka, and it is in this idyllic location – known as the Avis Snorkel Lagoon – that all the confined water skills were taught. How awesome is that?

Longfin batfish in the foreground, hound shark in the background

Tony and I wanted to go somewhere calm and pretty where we could lie on the bottom and play with different camera settings, and a sunny, shallow dive (3 metres maximum) in limitless visibility surrounded by 1,500 tropical fish and hound sharks (only five of those, fortunately) was just the ticket.

Hound shark passing in front of the aquarium window

It is a magnificent dive. Not challenging by any stretch of the imagination, but that is one of its charms. It’s an open air tank accessed by walking into Marine World with a Calypso Divemaster (you can’t do the dive without someone from Calypso accompanying you, even if you’re qualified). There’s an area to kit up, and then you stroll (or waddle, or slide) down some gently sloping rubber mats in shallow water to the drop-off into the tank proper.

The tank has windows looking onto the aquarium (or, the aquarium has windows looking onto it, if you prefer), and a large window looking into the Open Ocean tank, which contains sharks and rays. Most of the tank, however, is your own private paradise, as the windows only cover a fraction of the one side. On the day we went, there were no snorkelers in the water (it gets really busy on weekends and holidays – last time we dived there it was hilarious and somewhat unnerving to look up and see countless pairs of legs in board shorts hanging above us).

Tony in the undercover portion of the Lagoon tank

There is a section of the tank that’s covered over (including the window onto the shark tank), and in this area is a submerged jeep (with licence plates still attached) and some other bits of atmospheric debris such as ropes, crates and wooden packing pallets. It’s a bit dark in there, and I prefer the sunny bits, but it’s really lovely to lie in front of the window to the shark tank (where it IS sunny) and watch the big predators on the other side of the glass. Some of the fish seem to like it, too.

Clown triggerfish — A clown triggerfish emerging from the covered portion of the tank

There are half hour time slots that can be booked with Calypso – either as a Discover Scuba Diving experience if you haven’t dived before (and I think this will spoil you for diving anywhere else!) or for an accompanied dive if you’re qualified. We took the one at 1.45pm and the half hour immediately following it, so we had a blissful hour in the 24 degree water.

Tony and some fish playing with his camera

I took hundreds of photos, and Tony took some fantastic video footage (for another post). The thing that delighted me the most was that many of the fish interact with you – the old woman angelfish and the boxfish in particular are totally unafraid.

Old woman angelfish — An old woman angelfish comes to visit me

There was also a toothy fish who alternated between harrassing me and Tony, and appears in nearly every frame of Tony’s video as he kept passing by the camera to remind us of his toothy presence. This fish and several of the others deserve their own posts, since they were such large personalities!

Many of the fish were fascinated by the video camera lens – perhaps they could see a reflection or movement in the glass – and came really close to inspect and even head butt it. You can get really close to them either by lying or kneeling on the floor of the tank and waiting for curious visitors, or by sneaking up very slowly and quietly while they’re eating.

Lagoon tank at uShaka — Terracotta vases and fish in the lagoon tank

If you’re visiting Durban, this is a wonderful way to pass a couple of hours. If you don’t dive, it’s the most perfect setting in which to try it, and if you do – don’t scoff at how shallow it is and that it’s confined – just go and relax, marvel and enjoy the spectacle. It’s incredibly reasonably priced and afterwards you can do some water rides, chill out on the beach, enjoy an ice cream, or stroll around the retail space at uShaka.

OMSAC Cleanup Dive on Robben Island

On Saturday last week we participated in the OMSAC underwater coastal clean up in Murray’s Bay Harbour on Robben Island. The weather was magnificent – we had awesome boat rides there and back on the old Robben Island ferry, crusing in between moored container ships and spotting seals.

The Old Mutual Sub Aqua Club organisers had done a fantastic job, and the Metro Rescue team was on hand in their rubber duck. They laid a line down in the harbour demarcating the area in which we were to start the dive (since the regular ferry was still going to be in and out, we had to take care). Entry was via a giant stride off the bottom of some steps in the pier… As it was low tide, the stride was pretty giant. My first time, and lots of fun!

Entry point in Robben Island Harbour — This is our entry point... Duck waddle down the steps, and giant stride off the edge!

Once we were in the water, however, it was a different story. Armed with kitchen scissors (the biggest adventure my lowly pair has ever had), knives and mesh bags to collect rubbish, we were to scour the harbour bottom for debris. Visibility, however, was appalling. So appalling that I spent much of the dive in a state of abject terror – at times it went down to zero, and I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. I held onto Tony most of the time, and couldn’t even see the far side of his body. We surfaced once or twice for fear of crashing into the harbour wall without seeing it, and descending again was frightening because I didn’t know what was beneath me and had no sense of depth.

Murray's Bay Harbour at Robben Island, with our entry point to the right of the jetty, and our exit point to the left between the ships.

The bottom of the harbour is mainly covered with very fine white sand, and the water is permeated with it. There’s also a disturbing suction effect in parts of the harbour – one feels as though you could sink quite deep into the sand if you put your mind to it. In the part of the harbour where the new ferry docks, there’s quite a lot of ridged, smooth rock on the bottom, overgrown with sea plants.

We didn’t see much life – I am sure it’s there, but the visibility precluded much underwater naturalism. On the surface I spotted a night light sea jelly, and Tony saw a puffadder shyshark. Bank and Cape cormorant nest on the breakwater at the entrance to the harbour – we were cautioned against disturbing them.

Cormorants nesting on the breakwater at Murray's Bay Harbour

Tony had decided against bringing his underwater camera because we thought were supposed to be cleaning up, not shooting photos, and at first he was kicking himself because every second diver had brought theirs… However, after seeing the water conditions, we realised he was not missing out on anything!

The harbour was built in 1939 along with an airstrip and gun batteries for military purposes. It’s not a very busy place nowadays – the only real traffic is the Robben Island ferry a few times a day. Tourists don’t hang about there much either – they get whisked away on tours – so there’s not that much opportunity for them to drop litter into the water or let their chip packets blow away. Despite that, I was expecting a lot more rubbish than we found. Part of it was the poor visibility, but we didn’t see a lot of junk at all. Some awesome old cooldrink bottles were found, some net, plastic bags and bottles, and a few other bits of bric a brac.

Dive date: 18 September 2010

Air temperature: 24 degrees

Water temperature: 14 degrees

Maximum depth: 5.5 metres

Visibility: 0.3 metres (not kidding – an optimistic estimate)

Dive duration: 33 minutes (that’s time underwater)

There’s a gallery of more photos up on the OMSAC website.

Looking for seahorses in Knysna

Tony is obsessed – and I mean obsessed – with seahorses, and by all accounts has been hunting for them everywhere he’s ever dived. For this reason he was very keen to dive in Knysna, home of the Knysna seahorse, and to see if we could find some.

We go houseboating in Knysna every year (so far), and we’re able to dock the houseboat on Thesen Island at the jetty there. The first time we went, Tony’s friend Cameron showed us where to dive, and accompanied us in the water while his girlfriend Claire paddled her kayak around on the surface.

The magnificent Knysna Lagoon opens to the sea through a very narrow opening called the Heads. Because it’s so narrow, the tidal pull into and out of the lagoon is incredibly strong, and it’s not wise to dive while the tide is going in or out. The dive sites inside the Heads (and there are several, including a wreck called the Paquita which I’m dying to visit) should only be dived around the turn of the tide, from half an hour before to half an hour after, unless you have a hectic drift dive in mind (and some people do!).

The first time we dived the Sanparks Quay on Thesen Island was in August 2009, and we dived at high tide one afternoon. It’s a bit of a walk from the houseboats jetty to the Sanparks Quay, especially wearing full kit, but at high tide the entrance is reasonably easy. You just stride down some steps next to the quay and into the water. It’s a so-called junkyard dive, with lots of tyres, bottles and other bits of rubbish, but also very beautiful to see how the sea life has colonised the junk. At high tide the water is deep, clean, and still. The fishermen on the quay were profoundly amused by our antics, and one has to watch out for their lines and hooks while diving this site.

The seahorses are really hard to spot – many of them are brown (we did find a bright yellow one), smallish, and well-camoflaged among the debris. They wrap their little tails around things and sway in the current. We saw three or four, and Tony was so excited when we spotted the first one that I could hear him shouting through his regulator.

Dive date: 18 August 2009

Air temperature: 22 degrees

Water temperature: 15 degrees

Maximum depth: 5 metres

Visibility: 15 metres

Dive duration: 19 minutes

The second time Tony and I dived the Sanparks Quay was at low tide (high tides were at night while we were there) in June this year. We were alone, and it wasn’t as easy as the previous time. The bottom of the steps ended before the waterline, so we had to leap off instead of just walk into the water. The visibility was less than a metre – like swimming in ProNutro – so I held onto Tony’s arm for dear life for most of the dive because if he moved too far I lost him. The tide going out stirs up a lot of silt and brings dirty water from higher in the lagoon, which makes it very hard to see anything.

Despite the conditions, we did spot one tiny little sea horse, which made it worthwhile. There was also a crowned and an orange-clubbed nudibranch nudibranch, but we didn’t stay long because the conditions were so poor. We swam under the pier a little, which we didn’t do the first time. We learned why it’s a good idea to dive at HIGH tide next time!

Dive date: 16 June 2010

Air temperature: 20 degrees

Water temperature: 12 degrees

Maximum depth: 4.9 metres

Visibility: 0.5 metres

Dive duration: 35 minutes

If you don’t spot any seahorses, or don’t fancy a dive, you can visit the Sanparks office at the far end of the quay (closest to the Heads). They have a beautiful tank FULL of seahorses, who are extremely obliging photographic subjects.

Knysna seahorse in the Sanparks Building

Wreck penetration

Once you embark on the Wreck Specialty Diver course you can choose to include wreck penetration if you wish.

There is more to this aspect than just having a big torch! Passages deigned for walking along become very tight spaces if the ship is lying on its side and a once narrow walk way will have you crawling along the bottom of it while your tank scrapes the top, dislodging rust from above and silt from below – reducing visibility to zero despite your huge light.

Once in a wreck you need to move very slowly as the diver behind you will not have a good time swimming in the silt cloud you create. Your bubbles are also enough to create a cascade of flaked rust in some instances. It is extremely important to use a reel and line, tied off at the entrance. You belay the line at various points to prevent the line following a route you can’t navigate on your return. If you don’t do this, the line will find the shortest route through the wreck behind you – not necessarily person-sized! Cyalumes attached to the line are useful just as a back up torch or three is also an essential requirement.

Always ensure you have studied a drawing of the layout of the sections you plan to penetrate. The MV Aster wreck just outside Hout Bay Harbour was purposely scuttled by divers, for divers. As a result detailed drawings of the interior of the wreck exist, and it is an ideal site for training in wreck penetration.

FAQ: Can one scuba dive in winter?

For one thing, divers don’t mind the rain… they’re going to get wet anyway! But, surprisingly, winter diving in Cape Town is often better than summer diving. At least part of this has to do with the fact that conditions are ideal for diving False Bay (my favourite side of the peninsula), where the water is warmer than the Atlantic. The prevailing winds are northwesterly, and this flattens the sea in False Bay. The bay is also protected from the winds to some extent by the mountains around it. The result is that the visibility in winter is magnificent. The water is a bit colder (more towards the 12 degree end of the range), but because the air is cooler than it is in summer, you won’t actually feel much of a difference, and in fact it often feels relatively warm. Cape divers will tell you that winter is the best time for diving here – don’t miss it!

(This information also appears on my website, here.)