SS Carolina July 3 2006

This past weekend was the much-anticipated trip to the Carolina. I booked several months ago on the Independence II, as not only do I like the boat and crew, but Capt. Dan also runs it as an overnight, 3 dive trip. That is the idea at least, though as we in NJ know only too well, that is all subject to the weather. Mother Nature gives and Mother Nature takes away, or in our case, the reverse. We arrived at the dock Saturday night, with the intention of leaving in the wee hours of the morning, and returning Monday afternoon. Twas not to be however, and after many lets-wait-and-sees the decision was made to try heading out Monday at 4am instead. Waretown is not a bustling metropolis of heady delight, but the company was fine and the boat air conditioned, so we all read, chatted, and watched movies to pass the time. In addition to Capts Dan and Jay, we were Terry and Scott crewing, and John Bridge, Bill Bedford, Dan from NESS, and Brandon. Near dusk we headed over to Long Beach Island, where we were greeted by one of the most cacophonous, out of tune marching (well, sitting) bands I've ever heard. It was painful on the ears, but worth it to see the bandleader staring not just daggers but whole flamethrowers at his arrhythmic rhythm section. I later walked over to the lighthouse, where I had spent many a summer night netting blue claws in my youth. A few towns across the bay were shooting fireworks, but they were so insignificant as to be embarrassing compared to the thunderstorm that rolled in. Immense bolts of lightning came crashing down all around, arcing not only from on high but, improbably, sideways too. It was one of the best displays I've ever seen, heightened by the realization that I was being exceptionally stupid hanging out on a flat island surrounded by metal objects. I wasn't alone though - how's that for an excuse? - most everyone's face was etched by the same mixture of excitement and fear. Of course I stayed out too long, and got fairly well soaked when the rain started lashing us, but I've no regrets.

Around 4am I awoke in my bunk to the boat casting off and chugging out the intercoastal to the sea. I knew we were in luck when the throttle opened up and still the bouncing was minimal, the ocean thrumming by a scant inch of fiberglass away from me. Four hours of snoozing later I heard the throttle pull back, and twisted out of my berth to see Terry and Scott geared up and ready to splash.

The S.S. Carolina was a steamship sunk on June 2, 1918 by the U-151, which had sunk 5 vessels prior on what was dubbed Black Sunday. It went on to sink another 13 in the following weeks, and an incredible 51 vessels before it surrendered at the end of the war. As was common with a civilian ship, Korvettenkapitan Heinrich von Nostitz und Jänckendorff ordered the ship abandoned, and then sank it with artillery fire. It saved on torpedoes, cost less lives, and with no antisubmarine capability to speak of the times were fat for uboat men. By the way, isn't that a great name? Wouldn't you just love to drop that at a party? "Hey baby is this guy bothering you? Why don't you come talk to me, I'm Korvettenkapitan Heinrich von Nostitz und Jänckendorff. I sink ships." You'd be beating the women off with your swagger stick. Anyway, the ship lies in 240' with only about 10' of relief on the starboard side. Its pretty busted up, with plenty of artifacts for those that want to look for them.

Captain Dan asked that we splash in teams, so John Bridge and I geared up and jumped in at 8:30. As we dropped down the line it became distinctly cooler and clearer, with the water temps dropping from the 70's down into the 40's. After five minutes descending the outline of the Carolina coalesced, and we saw the line was tied in at the high point of the stern. Clipping my strobe to it, John and I exchanged okays and parted ways. Any concerns about navigation were dispelled when I saw how it retained its basic outline, with the starboard high and the port side splayed out into the sand like jacksticks. Right near the stern were two intact portholes, but a quick tug told me I could spend my entire dive on them with no guarantee of success. Heading amidships I found a nice 4# lobster hopelessly ensnared in fishing line. Today was his lucky day though, as I sought brass not bugs. In fact, in an act of devotion to the Lobster God I pulled out my shears and, dodging his best attempts to pinch me, took two minutes to cut him free. Peeking from the debris were a number of ocean pout, silver eels and lobsters, with chain dogfish lying about on top of the wreck. These latter are especially beautiful, with a ringed camouflage pattern on their backs in tan and brown. Not much for personality though, at one point I picked one up, looked it all over, then put it back down. No movement besides the gills, I'm not even sure it noticed. Maybe he was narked.

photo credit to Christina Young http://christinayoung.com/pages/scubphot.htm

Shortly thereafter I hit moderate paydirt amongst the steel plates, and loaded up my goody bag with several door locks, an enormous old-fashioned hinge, and sundry brass pieces. There was quite a bit of china lying about, but no intact pieces, and what little digging I did didn't reveal any keepers. Best of all though, right before I turned the dive I found a sconce light, which with a bit of elbow polish should clean up quite nicely.

At 35 minutes I began my ascent, with my first stop at 160'. No matter how much I like my down undies, and no matter how much I like cold water diving, I have to admit I was happy to see the next thermoclime fifteen minutes later at 90'. Current was almost non-existent, with the scope near 90 degrees. My overall runtime was two hours eighteen minutes, a long dive but a safe one.

Conditions on the surface were pleasant, not too hot with gentle rollers. Captain Jay told me a great story about nearly becoming dinner for two porbeagle sharks while on the line here. Having been in a similar situation, I could appreciate the part about feeling like he had whiplash from keeping an eye on them. My favorite part was when his buddy completed his deco and left him there alone - yikes! Like an exclamation mark at the end of the story, a 6' mako then began prowling around our boat. Isn't that what you want to see when gearing up? Good thing I like sharks, especially as one of the movies we watched the day before was Jaws.

My dive computer had rather ticked me off on the last dive by piling on another 25% or so in deco, so this time I planned to manage my inert gas with rgbm tables. I keep a pocket pc with me on trips with Gap-lite, so its child's play to punch in the numbers and cut very accurate profiles. At least then I know that 50 minutes of deco is 50 minutes of deco, not 70 or more, which always leaves me seething. I also find it makes the deco go faster, as it gives me something more interactive to do than stare at a computer screen wondering why my minutes aren't 60 seconds long.

We were on a bit of a schedule to get back, so I planned dive two to have a 90 minute run time, with a max of 25 minutes on the bottom. John, Dan and I splashed together and headed down, with the visibility somewhat reduced as the sun arced to the horizon. This dive I spent a little more time swimming around and sightseeing, though I did come up with some more brass, including a coat hook that I'll polish and use in my house. Turning the dive at 15 minutes, I finned down the starboard side, pulled the strobe on the fly at 27 minutes and began my hour of deco. Up to 50 feet was fairly busy, with lots of 1 and 2 minute stops. After that I mostly just zenned out and dug the jellyfish, and tried not to think about sharks.

On the ride in we were saluted by a fairly large pod of whales in the distance, the plumes from their blowholes rising in succession.