USS S-5 and the RP Resor September 22-23 2007

I've wanted to dive the S-5 ever since I first read its history. Commissioned in 1920, the sub had just completed trials, and was on its first assignment. While performing a test dive the main induction valve was left open, and then when belatedly closed it jammed. The backup was to close the valves to the individual compartments, but the forward torpedo room valve was stuck. The crew scrambled from the bow and sealed it off, while the sub crashed into the sea bed in 180 of water. With all those tons of water, it was impossible to float the sub. An attempt was made to pump out the torpedo room, but the bilge pump failed. The crew were trapped, with limited air, no escape hatch, no escape lungs, and no one looking for them. The only thing at their disposal was their wits. The captain knew the sub was 231' long, and in 180' of water. In theory if they blew the aft ballast tanks and fuel tanks they might be able to lift the stern to the surface enough to get a hatch out of the water. However, in the process water would run over the batteries and cause toxic chlorine gas, so the trick was to do it quickly and then slam the hatch and shut it, keeping the toxic fumes isolated. With their fingers crossed they blew the tanks, and what was horizontal now became vertical, cascading down through the sub. They nearly lost a man in the battery room, but were able to pull him out and slam the hatch. By hammering on the hull they discerned that 17 of the stern was sticking out of the water, not enough to get to the hatch but better than nothing. The next task was to drill air holes, for which they were woefully underequipped. By using a power drill (and semi-electrocuting themselves in the process) they were able, over the course of 36 hours, to make a 3" hole in the 3/4" thick steel. In what must have been heartbreaking, they watched a ship sail past them without noticing. The next day the wooden steamship SS Alanthus nearly did the same, but then decided to investigate this odd-looking buoy. The conversation that ensued is legendary:

"What ship?" asked the captain with his face near the hole.
"S-5," came the reply.
"What nationality?" he asked.
"American," came the reply.
"Where bound?" he asked.
"TO HELL BY COMPASS!" came the reply.

Amazingly, there were no fatalities. The Navy made several attempts to salvage it, finally giving up the effort in 1921.

This was my first time on the Pirate King, out of Cape May, and I must say it was mighty comfy. I slept on the boat the night before, so the 4am departure didn't bother me at all - in fact I don't think I got out of my bunk until after 8. The sky was a beautiful blue, with nary a zephyr. Some of the guys I knew, some not, but its always easy talking to divers, and we chatted the ride away. The captain gave a hue and a cry, and we all looked to the side to see a pod of dolphins leaping out of the water as they approached the boat.
I ran to the bow with several others, but we were surprised to see that they just disappeared. It was only after several minutes that someone looked down. The entire pod of 11 dolphin were directly below us, surfing the bow wave without scarcely moving their fins. It was intense. I've been lucky enough to see them underwater several times, but they always flash by quickly. Here they were, 5 feet below us and seemingly stationary. Every once in a while one would rise for a breath, and rolling on its side look up at us. They stayed with us for nearly 15 minutes, until the captain cut the throttle back and their free ride was over. Mark Ostojich shot some video that he's let me post:

Shortly thereafter a whale swam by us a ways off the starboard side. No pictures unfortunately, no one had a lens big enough to do it justice. My God what a massive creature.

I splashed to minimal current. The S-5 is in surprisingly good condition, and lies upright in a small washout at 160'. Several hatches were open, offering easy opportunities for penetration. I poked about, and swam around it twice before I could no longer resist. Everywhere I looked were scallops. Everywhere. I've never seen so many in my life! It took me two minutes to stuff two dozen into one bag, and only a little longer to stick 7 dozen into another. Cram I should say, I kept trying to put so many in that I feared they'd cut the bag and all spill out. I had planned on one long dive, but that changed quickly when I realized I needed to go empty my bags. So, at 53 minutes I headed up, with well under an hour of deco. At 80' conditions became tropical, 73 degrees and well over a 100' of visibility. I spent my time rattling a chain and hoping that that plus the steady rain of chicken bones from above would get some attention. I'm not sure if it was causative, but shortly thereafter a porbeagle shark swam by me several times.

Unfortunately dive 2 was not to be, as in the interests of safety we headed in. It seems a diver had had a problem, which led to another problem, which led to a feet-first ascent from 60' with plenty of deco left. He must have been buying scuba indulgences as he was fortunate enough not to have any symptoms. Not how I wanted it, but I now had a slot on the Independence for Sunday's Resor trip. I was able to sleep onboard the boat, which gave me the opportunity to load up early, and observe Marina culture up close. They say familiarity breeds contempt, but in this case it didn't; it was more like rage. Up and down the dock lawnchairs were setup for an impromptu cocktail party so that they were facing each other knee to knee. D'ya think you can move your loud drunken good-god-that's-more-than-I-wanted-to-see fat ass aside long enough for me to move down the dock? Apparently not. Even the yippy dogs lacked the sense to move out of the way. It did make the 5am load-in very sweet though, I reveled in every decibel we made.

The boat was full but not overly so. When we arrived the Gypsy Blood was there picking up their mate who had gotten blown off tying in. Captain Dan put the shot right next to the stern, and in minutes Dave O had us tied in. The scalloping hasn't much recovered from when I took 7 dozen off of here last month, though I was able to scrape together another dozen, as well as one-offs from the other divers. The Resor has some relief at the bow and stern (which was reinforced for what, at the time, was a state of the art propulsion system.) After a quick tour of the stern I headed forward, tying off before entering the debris field. In short order I had made it to the bow, picking up two lobster along the way, before doubling back to play in the debris field. Its quite a tangle of pipes and plates, but I think after another dive or two I should have it laid out sufficiently in mind to skip the reel.

This dive was a bit of a trial run for my Hammerhead. I've been kicking around the idea of going to heliox, and had heard from a friend that the Hammerhead will run it. This has some value to me, since if I tell the Explorer I'm diving 10/90, as opposed to 10/50, it roughly quadruples the deco time. Unfortunately it was the same with the Hammerhead. I left the bottom at 80 minutes, with both explorers showing 40 minutes (10/50), and the Hammerhead calling for over two hours.

I had seen a decent size lobster under some plates, but hadn't wanted to spend the time getting him out (I'm also a bit lobstered out, truth to tell.) When I mentioned it Renee Bachar's ears perked up, so I told her where to find it, and loaned her my tickle stick to aid in the pursuit. You know the line about "no good deed goes unpunished"? All I saw on dive two were big bugs, 4#er after 4#er, and all just out of reach. I did nab a nice 3# one, but it was a she so I released her. Not long after I was trying to twist around a plate to grab another when I felt a cold, uncomfortable sensation: water seeping through the 3/8" hole I had just sliced in my drysuit. I wasn't looking at much deco, but I still wasted no time grabbing my reel and heading the 300' back to the tie, in my haste forgetting my (empty) goody bag. For this dive it was an inconvenience, but I couldn't help thinking how on a longer dive in colder water I'd be in some serious trouble.

It seemed to be a trip for minor mishaps, between the Hammerhead not performing to expectations, the bugs staying beyond arm's length, the cut drysuit, and the lost bag. Just to pile it on, as soon as I climbed aboard my arms started feeling sore. I had done extra deco on both dives, but the bouncy hang on dive one had strained my arms. The deltoids are a hotspot for me, so once my gear was secured I had me a bit of a lie-down on O2. At 15 minutes I felt better, at 20 I was fine. Somewhere in there I fell asleep, which was odd to wake up with a reg in my mouth. Also a little uncomfortable, as my suit was now good and flooded, so that every time I straightened my legs out I got a little internal tsunami.

I really do need to start bringing a bottle of soy sauce and a lemon for scallop sushi. Maybe Dan will let me plug in a rice cooker? 10 dozen scallops for the weekend made the family very happy.