Truk Lagoon March 2006

There are many conceptions of Heaven: Manly sword-swinging in Valhalla. The Happy Hunting Ground. Allah’s reward of a 72 virgins. Sitting on a cloud playing a harp and making moon-eyes at the Supreme Being (yawn!) If you are a wreck diver though, it has pretty much got to be Truk Lagoon (Ok, maybe Truk WITH the 72 virgins? Forget I said that.) With 85 degree water, a sunken Japanese fleet, and artifacts everywhere, what could be better?

The answer is, to dive it on a closed circuit rebreather, and that is just how a group of us spent a week in March. The trip was organized by Ron Benson of Going Under Dive Center, who shipped out k-bottles of O2 and Helium, as well as all of our tanks and buckets of sorb. He has spent several years now promoting ccr diving in Truk, and his time and efforts show in the smoothness of the operation and what, for there, is some pretty radical diving.

First, however, you need to go through the sour to get to the sweet. And its pretty fricking sour. There aren't too many nonstops from Newark to Truk, so instead it was Newark to Honolulu to Majuro to Kwajalein to Kosrae to Pohnpei to Truk. Never been to Kwajalein? It’s a lovely airfield. Literally. As you descend, you see that pretty much all there is IS an airfield, with some dormitory type buildings off the end of the runway, and ocean everywhere else. No cities, no towns, not even any jungle, just asphalt and ocean. I chatted for some time with a guy fresh out of the army and going to "Kwaj" for a one-year contract as private security. Perhaps he should have googled it first. I'm not one to engage in schadenfreude, but I did have to laugh at the way his jaw dropped as we descended: "That...That's it?" I sensed it's going to be a long year.

Eventually we made it to Chuuk, as they say in chuukese, and its expansive state of the art 3-terminal airport. Ok, I exaggerate grossly, but the runway IS paved, and I didn't directly observe any chickens go into the engines. I might also point out that the people of Chuuk have probably the only high school with 8 foot walls. Not 8 foot high, 8 foot thick, with bomb scars all over to attest to their fortitude (it was the former Japanese headquarters.) So, after what seemed like a hop skip and jump from leaving the US (compared to, say, sitting in lava) we finally arrived at the Blue Lagoon Resort, formerly the Continental Airlines Hotel, formerly Japanese Naval Airfield #2. When is the last time YOU stayed at a hotel with pillboxes on the water and anti-aircraft guns as lawn ornaments? Ppprrreeetttyyy cool!. I was very pleasantly surprised, as the rooms were clean, frigidly air-conditioned, and with gorgeous views of the Lagoon and surrounding islands. Even the restaurant was a treat, once you accepted the concept of Island Time (kind of like manana, but without the urgency.) You could have spaghetti bolognese, fantastic sushi, a passable wiener schnitzel, fish and chips, etc. It was a little odd, but the food was delicious, and we divers do travel on our stomachs.

The dive shop was very considerate, and gave us a big chunk of their facility for our gear. In the final assessment we were 7 Megalodons, 6 KISS units, and two Inspirations. The boats are normally six packs, but for us they ran 4 to a boat, plus driver and guide. They are little skiffs, but with twin outboards they get you there fast, and the canopy keeps you out of the sun. I was very satisfied, even if I did have to wear my mask several times due to the spray. Probably 90% of the wrecks were a 20 minute boat ride, thus a short run for a long slide.

A little bit of history is in order: US Forces caught the Japanese with their pants down and bombed the snot out of them. That's pretty much it. In two days US Naval forces destroyed about 300 planes, most of them on the runway still, sank something like 70 ships, cut the place off and left it to starve. It was ugly, and a lot of people died, but in one of those ironic ways people more philosophical than me can ponder, it left some amazing beauty in its wake. The ships are mostly Marus, armed merchant ships, though we also dove two destroyers and a submarine, as well as some aircraft.

Day One:

I was buzzing with excitement, just high on being there. The surrounding islands are gorgeous, steep wedding cakes with hanging gardens, as we slipped through a channel and out to the Fujikawa Maru. Rolling backwards over the side, we could immediately make it out sitting in 115' of water, upright and intact, with amazing visibility. I swam first down into the forward hold, where several Japanese fighter aircraft lay, then through all the other holds and the engine room. Everywhere was strewn bottles, airplane parts, ammunition, etc., while outside the ship was covered in all manner of sponges, hard and soft corals, giant clams, and enormous anemones that would spread out and cover 15 or 20 square feet of the deck.. A reef shark cruised around outside the wreck, eyeing us curiously but without hostile intent. The lack of bubbles on the rebreather really put the fish at ease, they would barely bother to get out of our way. I dropped down to check out the propeller, then along the length of the hull. Covered in life, it was like doing a wall dive on a reef, albeit one with a base of steel. Along the way I saw the torpedo hole that doomed her, an enormous blast to the rear cargo hold that buckled the plates and splayed them inward. Not for the first time I thought "You poor bastards", the destructive force was really sobering. It's beautiful now, but it was hell on earth for those guys. Swimming up the keel at the bow, I found the forward ship's control. The bow cannon was so covered I swam past it before I realized what it was. It’s gorgeous, one of the most photographed sites in Truk. After an hour and a half on the wreck I ascended to my deco stop, where I hung for a half an hour looking at the ship below me and tripping out.

After a quick lunch we headed right back out, to the Heian Maru, also in about 115' of water. This was one of my favorite ships, an ocean liner converted to a submarine tender, lying on its port side. It is marvelously intact, and at over 500' it gave me plenty to do for nearly two hours bottom time. Dropping down onto the hull, I could still make out the ship’s name at the bow in Latin and Kanji characters. I then swam into the holds, which were filled with torpedoes, spare periscopes, and other paraphernalia appropriate to her mission, and spent a fair amount of time swimming down the gangways and poking my nose into the rooms. The twin screws were enormous, looming over us in the soft afternoon light.

Day Two:

Next up was the Nippo Maru, another famous wreck in 130' of water. Upright on the deck are several tanks and artillery pieces, while the holds are filled with artillery shells. It’s a wonder it didn't all go up in smoke. I spent a bunch of time photographing a shark, which kept circling back to check us out, and hoping that a remora would attach to my buddy's Bill’s arse so I could photograph it (I later found out he was doing the exact same thing.) Later on deco a bottle-nose dolphin swam between us, the first time I've seen one underwater.

For the afternoon we went to the I-169 in 140’ of water, at 330' long one of the largest submarines ever built. It spent an excruciating 30 hours off Pearl Harbor for the attack, entangled in an antisubmarine net, and barely survived. Luck ran out in Truk, where it dove to avoid an air attack, but with a valve open. The Japanese later depth charged it, blowing the conning tower off and making a mess of the stern. Despite this it is an interesting wreck, and still reasonably intact. I was shocked to see the outer hull in such fine shape, on most subs I've seen the outer hull is gone, and only the pressure hull remains. After shooting some pics I hung the camera, and spent a half hour trying to find a way in. Nothing doing. I did find one hatch but it would have to be a no-mount entry, and I'm just not ready to take my rebreather off.

Day Three:

The San Franciso Maru is considered one of the trophy wrecks in Truk. Lying in 200’, most divers to Truk are happy to get a quick 10 or 15 minutes on it. We spent over an hour playing around, checking out the tanks, swimming through the holds, working through the bridge. I was surprised to see in hold number two case after case of small arms ammunition, still in its wooden boxes, still stacked up. I guess worms aren't a big issue here, in NJ those crates would go down like popcorn. By the screws I looked up to see the ship above me, with three sharks circling above that, two more behind me, and a pair of eagle rays off to the side.

The afternoon dive was the Yamagiri Maru, which lies on its side in 105' and rises to nearly 50'. There was a bit of an unfortunate misunderstanding when we discussed our dive plans: How was I to know they were joking when they said "Wow, we can spend three hours on this one!"? Those who have dove with me know better than to wave that carrot in my face, my dive was 2 hours 50 minutes. This was my deepest penetration of the trip so far, I was way way far back in the engine room. It was a bit disorienting being on its side, but by picking out landmarks I was able to dispense with running a reel and do it by memory. I took full advantage of the long run time the rebreather offered, and was able to go places way off the beaten track. In the aft hold were stacks and stacks of 18" shells for the super-battleship Musashi, the largest ever made. I love the giant clams, the edges of their shells go up and down like a graph, giving them this great grumpy expression (though not nearly as grumpy as the other divers waiting up top - sorry guys!) The hang was a bit long, but as the light started to fail fish came out to feed, and I was surrounded on all sides by flashing silver and blue.

Day Four:

It took a lot of pleading, but the next morning we convinced the guides to take us to the IJN Oite, a 330' destroyer in 200' of water. They hadn't been out there in 7 years, and despite the hour run out, plus an hour looking for it, the dive was well worth it. The wreck lies in two pieces, close by each other, with the torpedo tubes a little ways off in the sand. Two lionfish greeted us by the anchor line, which was rather cheerier than the skeleton in the bow section. On the way up my bc rather rudely detonated, with the inflator button shooting off into the briny. In case you are wondering, doing a hour plus hang with a broken bc really kind of sucks, my arm was sore afterwards from holding it in an awkward position to prevent air from escaping. Those of you who dive deep know just how discomfiting it is to have body pains afterwards, thinking "Is that going to go away? I think it will go away. Its going away, right?. Ouch, no its not. Go away go away go away." Right by the dive shop they have an actual but defunct chamber, 8 feet long and barely large enough to take a deep breath in, with the unnecessary admonition "Don't Get Bent in Truk." Yeah, no fooling! Fortunately my stressed arm felt better shortly, and I was able to turn off the babbling soundtrack.

The BC was unfortunately not the only piece of gear I had go on the trip, not by far. A full litany: Dive computer failed on the very first dive. Pocket PC locked up. Canister light cord tore, flooding (and ruining) light. Camera strobe stopped functioning. The above referenced BC explosion. Other dive computer got flaky, until some folks helped me correct how I'd programmed it. Finally, one of my backup dive lights failed as well. For someone who takes good care of his equipment it was all a bit frustrating, but the most important thing never failed: the rebreather. So, in the end, it was all just a series of inconveniences, and with a little help from my friends I never broke stride.

Later that day we went to the Shinkoku Maru, 500' long in 140' of water. There were enormous opportunities for penetration, including going all through the engine room, and later working my way through the operating room in the main superstructure. Somebody had piled bones on the operating table, which I thought was kind of cheesy, but oh well. I had a good time in the engine room, even when the battery on my light died halfway down a stairwell. That's why we have plan B, C, and D, I pulled out a backup and continued on my now rather-more-limited way. With an intact mast rising to 40', deco was relatively short and enjoyable.

Day Five:

There was no current on the Aikoku Maru the next day, which made for an especially nice dive. A large passenger liner/freighter in 200', the front end has been smashed off. Diving my now standard itinerary, I headed first for the stern to see the propeller. While there I turned around and found a shark about 6' behind me, looking over my shoulder. Very cool stuff, I especially liked later when I looked up and saw the shark silhouetted against the sun, with an eagle ray silhouetted above that. For the afternoon we went to the Kensho Maru, which wound up being one of my favorite dives. Intact and upright in 120', the engine room is this enormous 5 story time capsule, with tools still sitting in their racks, four enormous steam boilers, gauges intact, and all the ladders, gangways, and even the greenhouse in place. In several rooms I shone my light inside, revealing dozens of pairs of red eyes staring back at me as shrimp scuttled for darkness. On the ceiling of one room was a pool of oil, which when disturbed would swirl into sinuous black funnels. Back on the deck, a friendly pair of eagle rays swam around in circles an arms length away, the smooth sweeping motion of their wings adding a detached calmness.

Day Six:

I find on some trips, no matter how great they are, you get into brain overload. That never happened to me in Truk, in fact the dives just kept getting better. I made the difficult decision to skip the morning’s 300' wall dive (with over 150 sharks up close and personal) to concentrate on wrecks. The IJN Fumitsuki is another destroyer, sitting in 130’ of water, intact and upright with a slight list. With the deckguns and antiaircraft guns intact and pointing up it makes a very nice profile. Most of these ships were notable for going down fighting, in many if not most cases the order to abandon ship was never issued, and AA guns fired away until the water closed over them. I thought long and hard on attempting several really tight penetrations, until the angel on one shoulder crossed over to dope-slap the devil on the other. I will consider bringing a sidemount or no-mount rig with me another time though, there are some really cool penetrations for someone who doesn't mind small places. Maybe then my dives won't be accompanied by the clarion call of tanks smacking things. At the tail end of the dive I found a stairwell leading down, and pulled my bailout tanks off to wiggle my way in. This was really exciting, a bunch of undisturbed crews quarters. I started digging through the silt for artifacts, but between the lateness of the dive, and the clouds of silt obscuring my vision, I decided discretion was the better part of WTF and snaked my way back out.

The Hanakawa Maru is one of the more remote wrecks, so I was very excited to go check it out. On the way we stopped off at a small concrete pier in a cove for a quick lunch. There were a bunch of schoolchildren down the end of the pier waiting for the afternoon boat to take them home. After some shy peeping their reserve dissolved into them sitting on the dock, feet in our boat, laughing uproariously at us. Someday, perhaps if you decide to drop out of society, make your way to Chuuk. You can make a killing in coconuts on the Chuukese comedy circuit, because we Americans are apparently some funny motherfuckers. I'm not sure why, I'm not sure how, but those kids were in stitches the whole time we were there, and nearly waved their arms off when we left. That goes for the younger kids at least. With the older boys, I found I do understand a little chuukese. Maybe not word for word, but the way they were ogling Mel Clark in her tight wetsuit, I knew full well what those boys were saying. She was a bit puzzled as they generally like ‘em big over there, but as I pointed out, variety is the spice of life (when I told her this she gave me a look that could be interpreted as either “What a bizarre thing to say” or “Die you insect Die!”) The wreck is intact and upright in 110', with a mast that rises very conveniently to 15'. Filled with aviation fuel, it was hit by three torpedoes and made what is technically referred to as "A REALLY Big Boom." Particularly impressive was the 55 gallon drums welded to the ceiling by the blast. The stern superstructure was breathtaking, it looked like a garden someone had planned with great care. I was sorry when my two hours was up, I still had more I wanted to explore, more things great and small to focus my attention on.

Day 7:

Off to the Momokawa Maru, in 160', lying on its port side over a big wash. Unfortunately I was now down to one light, so I had to be very careful about my penetrations. I particularly liked the engine room-to-bridge communications, as well as the airplane in the forward hold, and the trucks in hold #2. My favorite part however was getting down into the wash, 350' of ship looming over me.

After an enormous barbeque the divemasters put on for us, my last dive was on the Kiyosumi Maru. It is another gargantuan maru on its side, in 115' of water. After circumnavigating the hull , and weaving my way in and out of the holds I found a killer penetration on the stern, too good to pass up. My kingdom for an HID! I squeezed my way into it, always making sure I was still able to see light, until I decided tempting the fates was unwise. Besides, its ok to leave a little bit of longing, a little mystery unsolved, a place yet to explore. Next time!

The way back, I’m happy to say, was much easier going, as I skipped the Micronesian Milk Run for Truk to Guam to Honolulu to Newark. About 30 hours of travel, including layovers, and really not objectionable (besides having to sit through Walk the Line about 1500 freaking times.) Flight time is like deco time is like jail time, its all mind over matter: if you don’t mind, it don’t matter. My rule is that I only smoke outside the US, but with a four hour layover in Hawaii I had to amend that to “Only outside the US as it existed prior to August 21^st, 1959.” Its my brain I can lie to it if I want to. If you’d like to see my pictures, well you can’t. Not yet at least, but some of the more ambitious folks on the trip (or those with longer layovers) have theirs up. Go to http://www.advanceddivermagazine.com/Expeditions/Truk2006/Truk2006.html or www.inner-space.co.uk/photos for some really groovy pictures, plus Curt Bowen was with us so look for a big article in July’s Advanced Diver Magazine. Ron runs this trip every year, plus we are urging him to do Bikini next year, so think about it. Soup to nuts, including tips and a t-shirt, it still cost me well under $4000. Not bad for the trip of a lifetime.