Memorial Day weekend sort of marks the beginning of the recreational boating season. What this usually means is that a large number of "Joe Boaters" are out for their first big weekend of the season – and this translates to lots of boat traffic from clueless people. Not that there aren’t people who do know what they are doing, but let’s face it doing 30 knots in fog with less than 100 feet of visibility in a busy area hardly constitutes "knowing what you are doing" – and there were lots of those kinds of people out this past weekend. Anyway, I digress – and it’s only the first paragraph of the dive report. Ok – back on track now – Memorial Day weekend is always something to look forward to, but it is important to keep in mind the meaning of the day. The day is meant to honor the many who have sacrificed for our freedom, or the freedom of others. Sadly, these sacrifices continue today – and it is real shame to open the newspaper to see the faces of young people in uniforms in the obituary section. This should not be forgotten while we enjoy ourselves on that holiday weekend. Years ago, when I was a Girl Scout I used to march in the Memorial Day parade in Marblehead, which begin in downtown Marblehead and ended with a ceremony conducted by the National Guard in Waterside Cemetery. Afterwards we’d head home for a BBQ with friends and family. It was both a serious and fun weekend – and this is how I always remember the holiday. Nevertheless, I have long since traded my Girl Scout uniform for a drysuit and so with that, on Friday morning Dave and I headed off to Buzzards Bay for Gauntlet’s second big road trip, this time down to Fairhaven, MA.

The ride down towards the Cape Cod Canal was quite nice – the weather was beautiful and we encountered only a little bit of fog off Scituate. Once we were past Plymouth, the visibility opened up again and we cruised into the canal, just under 3 hrs from the time we left port. We had a favorable tide going through the canal, but the conditions were far from good. The wind and current – and boat wakes – weren’t playing nice and at times were past through sections with a hard 3-4 foot chop running. You know you’re in an interesting place when there are patches of 3 foot seas surrounded by flat calm water. Well, aim for the flat areas I guess. Generally hugging the sides of the canal are the best ways to deal with a head tide, or to avoid rough water in the center. The water is deep enough even on the sides that you can get within 30-40 feet of the edge no problem. With a strong head tide, we can pick up a couple of knots this way. In any case, we needled through the canal, exiting into a solid wall of heavy fog. From there, we were socked in with pea soup fog the entire rest of the way. Arriving in Fairhaven/New Bedford, we couldn’t see the hurricane barrier until we were literally upon it.

The hurricane barrier guarding Fairhaven and New Bedford.  In heavy weather, this is closed off to protect against surge and ocean swells.

Arriving in Fairhaven, we cruised over to the commercial fuel dock on the New Bedford side and topped off the fuel tanks – very good prices on diesel in New Bedford ($2.49/gal). And then motored over to Fairhaven Shipyard where we would be running from for the next few days. Upon our arrival at Fairhaven Shipyard we were greeted by the dockmaster and staff. I have to say they are really a very nice group of people there. Friendly and accommodating, we were pleasantly surprised by the great service they provide. We got the boat cleaned up and prepped for the next days diving and then walked to a nearby restaurant for dinner. When we returned we prepared the rebreathers for the next day’s dives and then headed off to sleep.

The advantages of rebreathers from a logistics perspective can be a little mind boggling in some instances. To compare this trip to a similar one (the Point Judith trip from last year) – in order for each of us to make up to 5 planned dives in the 100-160’ depth ranges we brought with us 9 sets of doubles and 10 stage bottles. It was brutal for me in the week leading up to the trip to mix all that gas. Additionally, it was a lot of gear to haul down on the boat, to off-load each day to make room for customers gear, and generally it just a major pain all around. This year we were just bringing the rebreathers. Granted, there were a few things that were different about this trip – namely that the wrecks were a little shallower, but the numbers of tanks and volume of gas would be more or less the same for the sake of comparison. However, this time we took only the following: 1 rebreather each with 19 cu ft diluent and O2 bottles, 1 set of HP120s filled with air (for diluent tops), 1 HP 100 with O2 (for O2 tops), 2 AL 80s with air (for bail out), 2 AL 40s with O2 (for whatever). This was nice. We took one pail of sodasorb in case we needed to repack our scrubbers. Since the PRISM has a five-hour duration on the scrubber, we weren’t sure if we would need to repack, but we brought some sodasorb anyway. Better to be safe than sorry on that item. While the wrecks are shallower in Buzzards Bay and one would think you could spend "all day" down there on a rebreather, some, like the Port Hunter, have such a narrow slack window that the dives must be short, whether you want them to be or not.

Anyway, we prepped the rigs and then retired for the night. The following morning we awoke to continued heavy fog. The fog was so heavy in fact that we could barely see the end of the pier – and the hurricane barrier was totally out of sight (Fairhaven Shipyard is the first marina on the right after the barrier… in other words… very close). We discussed options – our plans were to dive the Trojan, but at nearly 18 miles from Fairhaven and located in a rather busy area at the mouth of Buzzards Bay, it seemed like this might not be the best choice given the circumstances. The fog was quite bad – and it’s not a matter of whether or not we could navigate through the fog; it was a matter of other boats, someone getting blown off the wreck and being lost in the fog, as well as the amount of time it would take to get there and back at reduced speed. With all these factors in mind, we decided it would be more appropriate to stay in closer and run to the Yankee.

The Yankee.  It is said this ship contained 300 portholes.

The Yankee is a shallow dive, and unfortunately noted for very bad visibility. However, Dave and I had dived this wreck a few weeks ago and were treated to about 20 feet of visibility, so you never know. The Yankee is quite an interesting – and huge – wreck. At 6,225 tons and 406 feet long, the Yankee was a U.S. Navy iron-hulled steam-powered auxiliary cruiser. It was originally constructed as a passenger steamer in 1892 named El Norte, but was later pressed into service as an auxiliary cruiser in the U.S. Navy at the start of the Spanish-American war. The Yankee was outfitted with ten 5-inch guns, six 6-pounders, and two Colt machine guns. The vessel was commissioned and decommissioned several times during her career in the Navy. Ultimately, the Yankee found purpose as a training ship cruising between Boston and the Chesapeake Bay – until her demise on one such voyage.

On September 23, 1908, while underway in dense fog much like the fog we were facing as we ventured out into Buzzards Bay, the Yankee struck Spindle Rock, grounding out. The hull was severely damaged and despite numerous attempts to refloat the vessel, the Navy eventually was forced to begin a salvage operation to lighten the crippled hull, removing the guns and other heavy items. On December 4^th the hull was floated, but subsequently sank on December 5^th while under tow en route to New Bedford. Today the Yankee rests in 55 feet of water as a jagged, twisted, low lying wreck 3 miles east of Round Hill Point.

With such shallow water, low visibility, and a lack of intact, easily discernable wreckage, the Yankee can be a challenging dive. Current also can run quite strong in the area. The preferred method of getting on this wreck is anchoring or grappling into it. As a result, this wreck is also known as the "anchor wreck" for the numerous Danforth anchors that can be found on the site. While grappling or anchoring is not our favorite method of getting on a wreck, sometimes it’s necessary, especially when dealing with current and low lying wreckage. In any case, we grappled in and worked the lines for a few minutes to make sure we were into something solid. Divers suited up and splashed in.

Dan and I headed in after the first group and while the visibility looked relatively promising on the surface, there was nearly no visibility in the vicinity of the line on the bottom. Later, away from the line, I’d say the visibility was about 5-7 feet, but around the line – which had actually draped along the bottom and over wreckage – it was next to nothing. With a good length of chain rode, plus a grapple, the line actually slacked and ran along and over the wreckage. I didn’t know we were on the wreck until I crashed into it. At about 50 ft in depth, I am used to longer descents. I was a bit surprised to be on the wreck, despite not having looked at my depth gauge, the lines were telling a different story. Where was the grapple? I wanted to find this and check it, but the lines were running horizontally with parts of the chain were draped over wreckage. The visibility was so bad it was difficult to see where the line was going. I turned and dropped down a bit into nothing-ness looking for the grapple. I didn’t want to lose Dan and I noticed several reels running out from the area – so I didn’t think this was a good time to start pulling on the chain. I came back over to get together with Dan and figure out how we were going to set our reel. In that instant, I lost the whole line. I had taken my hand off it and poof it was gone. Another diver was ascending and pulled the line just enough to move it away from our location. In nearly no visibility, you don’t have to move something far for it to be "gone." I was a little shocked the line had disappeared – where could it have gone? – we hadn’t moved. I asked Dan where the line was – he didn’t know either. Great…

I decided that first things first we’d shoot a lift bag to mark our location and then look for the line, or not, but at least we had a line to go up. Considering we were in pea-soup fog and current was running, this was not the place to chance a free-ascent, even if we were only in 50 ft of water. I knew we were close to the boat, but in this kind of fog I just couldn’t take the chance that by the time we broke the surface the current might have pulled us just out of sight. Dan and I rigged up a bag on a spool, shot it to the surface and put a strobe on the line. I tied the line off on hull plate – actually it was a piece that was fairly contiguous that we could use to navigate. As we shot the bag up, I thought to myself, "Dave must think we nailed a porthole… but we’re really just lost!" I had a brief laugh about it and then returned to being a bit bewildered at losing the line. Anyway, we made nearly an hour out of the dive working up and down the hull plates along the segment we were tied into. Along the way we ran into another diver who could not find the original line, so the 3 of us ascended up our make-shift line at the end of the dive. Our lift bag just barely broke the surface with the strain of 3 divers and current on the line. But it held and sure enough we popped up about 15 feet from the boat, but on the opposite side of the direction the line ran in. Others had similar challenges relocating the line – despite tying off a reel near the hook-in point; the nearby line had moved enough that some searching for the line was necessary.

In any event, it was a good dive. When we surfaced, Dave headed in for a dive and pulled the hook – he had a heck of a time getting it out given its state as I described. Doing all this in no visibility is not easy, but he got the job done, and all with a smile.

We had some lunch; avoided a few close calls in the fog, and made it back to the dock around 2 pm. We unloaded the boat, got cleaned up and met up with our friend Lori Takakjian, as well as Lea and Elsbeth Nichols – Lea would be diving with us the next few days, and Capt. Lori would be joining us Sunday to offer a hand as well as do a little piloting through Quick’s Hole and Wood’s Hole Pass. That evening, we all enjoyed a great dinner at a Portuguese restaurant in New Bedford. Unfortunately for me, as my shell-fish eating days are over, I was unable to sample the paella, but judging by Dave’s empty dish, it looked like it was very good. I used to love paella, and ate it every chance I got when I lived in Spain back when I was in college. But that was then and this is now: I got the steak. It was good.

Our plans for the next day were large. Some modifications were needed, but not necessarily a downgrade in the plans. The original plan was to dive the Trojan and then head up into Vineyard Sound to dive the Port Hunter at the afternoon slack. But we had a minor issue to work out since we didn’t get to the Trojan the day before and as a result we didn’t get a mooring in. With a good steam to get there and a need to tie in, we’d be tight on time if we went to the Trojan and then made the steam to the Port Hunter up Vineyard Sound. We wanted plenty of time to get prepped for the tie in on the Port Hunter so that was part of it too. Slack is short and the current is strong. So we couldn’t screw it up basically.

Gauntlet hanging out with the "big boats" in Fairhaven, loading up for another day of diving.

Anyway, with all this in mind we decided a better plan would be to dive the Col. William B. Cowin (much closer than the Trojan) and then cut through Quick’s Hole to make the ~22 mile transit to the Port Hunter. We need to keep on schedule at the Cowin and be underway around 10:30 am to get on the Port Hunter in time to prep, but we were confident we could do it. The weather was glorious so we had to try.

The Cowin was a 185 foot long US Army Transportation Corp personnel/equipment ferry that struck Hens and Chickens Reef on December 17, 1941. The vessel has also been known as the Corvan, Corvin, Corbin – sometimes referred to as the "Navy Ferry Boat" – in other words, historically there has been a lot of confusion surrounding the name of this wreck. However, it is indeed the William B. Cowin. The wreck sits upright with a list to port in about 75 feet of water. Visibility can be poor, as is typical in Buzzards Bay, and tidal currents can become strong.

There was a slight ground swell running, but the weather was great, the winds were light and the seas were otherwise flat. When we got on site, we took a few passes over the wreck to get a good look at the target, and then dropped the shot line, aiming for the bow where we would have a good place to tie in. Dave and Lee splashed first while we stood on station awaiting the lift bag to pop up. During this time, another boat came barreling up on us wide-open. We had dive flags up – both the sport diving flag and the alpha flag – but they didn’t seem to get it. I assumed maybe they were recreational boaters, which might explain the lack of awareness of our flags, I guess. They came in so close in fact I had to pull the boat up practically on top of the shot line to protect the area, and sound the horn to get them to slow down. Turns out, they were divers. Nice. We alerted them we had divers in the water and they could not drop an anchor. They stood off and waited until we were tied in. Once the bag came up and we were settled, I waved them over and I indicated they were welcome to tie off to our stern and use our lines if they wanted to dive here. The one condition was that they could not leave their boat unattended, as we cannot take responsibility for someone else’s vessel. They didn’t like that idea and decided to go elsewhere. Typical.

With that over with, our divers suited up and headed in. When Dave and Lee returned, they reported very poor visibility and fairly strong current. And indeed, when Lea and I eventually headed in, we found this to be the case – just a few feet of visibility and ripping current. But it was good to get down there, even if the dive was less than stellar and at least see where we were tied in – with the hope that the visibility might be better the next day.

Roman, Josh and Scott suit up while Lea watches over.  At right, Scott hits the water.

Once we finished up on the Cowin, we got underway for a great ride through Quick’s Hole and up Vineyard Sound to dive the Port Hunter. We settled in for a relaxing ride, had some lunch and soaked up the sun as we cruised along. We had a favorable tide so we picked up a few knots to boot. Arriving on the Port Hunter, we had plenty of time just like we wanted to make sure we got set up right for slack water.

Hanging out enjoying some food and conversation.  At right, cruising up Vineyard Sound, looking out at Martha's Vineyard.

The sand in this area is very much "live sand" – meaning that it moves as the current pushes it around. Parts of the wreck can cover and uncover quite frequently. As a result, most of the wreck is sanded in and along with its general orientation on a sloping bottom it can be difficult to pick up on the sonar, especially if the prominent bow is sanded in. We made several passes and begin plotting out the wreck as we motored along the edge of the shoal. Once we had an orientation with some good images coming up we discussed how best to get on the wreck – did we want to drop a shot line or grapple in?

We had intended on sending the tie in team in before slack water just when the current began to taper off, which would be about 30-40 min prior to slack by our estimates. However since there would still be some current, we did not want them to pull the line off the wreck, dragging away into the sand – and this has happened before on other wrecks when we’ve been dealing with strong current. With such a narrow window for slack water we definitely would not have an opportunity to reset the lines and try again. Lori has a lot of experience diving on and running charters to this wreck, and agreed if the current was ultimately stronger than anticipated, we might find ourselves in this situation. We decided to grapple in.

Heather and Lori get us positioned for the drop on the Port Hunter.

We rigged up the grapple and chain, positioned ourselves for the drop and hooked in. We made sure we were into something good, which appeared to be in the bow section. We dropped the line in on a large tuna ball and then sat back and waited. As could only be expected, another boat came cruising up on us, getting in close to us, getting in the way mostly before finally dropping an anchor near the wreck. They didn’t appear to be fishing, or doing anything for that matter, so we just figured they were boaters doing whatever. However as we drew closer to slack time, they reset their anchor close to our tuna ball and took out dive flags. We motored in for a quick chat to find out what their plans were. We let them know we were about to put divers in and that we would appreciate them not getting any closer to us, or re-dropping their anchor once our divers splashed. We have been in situations before where the boats get too close and are at risk of colliding once they are anchored up as tides and wind push us all around. Where we were bigger and upwind, we’d definitely be bearing down on them. We don’t have a problem sharing a dive site with another boat, but for this to happen safely and effectively, there must be communication before plans are put into action. Pulling up and dropping a hook is not quite how it should be done.

We watched our drift and the load on the tuna ball to estimate current. Once the current began slacking off, we splashed Dave and Lee. We put them in just about 10 minutes before 1 pm, with slack water scheduled for 1:39 pm.

The Port Hunter was a 380 foot long steel freighter that collided with the freighter Covington on November 2, 1918 at the western entrance of the approach to Nantucket Sound. The Covington actually drove the Port Hunter up on Hedge Fence Shoal to save her from sinking into deep water, but the gaping hole in the bow section as a result of the collision ultimately sent her to the bottom.

The British freighter Port Hunter.

The British freighter had been carrying Army supplies from the U.S. to Europe for use in WWI.  The vessel was carrying leather jackets, wool long underwear, shirts, trousers as well as narrow gauge steel rails, 800 sets of railroad car wheels, railroad engines, and about 2,000 tons of steel billets.  It was rumored that gold bouillon and whiskey were also aboard, but that has never been confirmed.  There are "white bricks" on the wreck – which are actually bricks of phosphorous – and not something you want to bring up. The wreck was extensively salvaged after her sinking but the venture was far from profitable. The conditions on the wreck site limited salvage operations to about 3 hrs per day. Sand needed to be removed from the wreck daily – and often times sand removed one day had returned by the next. With an operating cost of $2,000 per day (in 1962-1964) along with the collapse of the scrap metal market, the venture was a financial failure.

The dive site is quite dynamic with a combination of live sand, the orientation of the wreck lying along a slope ranging form 25-85 feet in depth, and current. However, the visibility tends to be good here, as this area of sea floor is composed of white sand. We were looking forward to this dive, so when the lift bag popped up signaling that we were in, everyone scrambled to get suited up and in the water to take full advantage of our window. The other boat on site realized that they were not actually hooked into the wreck once they saw our bag come up. I guessed they assumed we weren’t on and were waiting to see what happened. However, since we had divers in the water they could not reset their hook, so they pulled up their lines and slinked away. Interestingly, there were 2 moorings on the wreck – they looked pretty aged and short on line, but they were there. Unfortunately for the other boat they were far too close to our own line for them to use. But if you’re waiting for those lines to pop up to dive, it’s almost too late already, at least if you want to maximize dive time.

Once Dave and Lee were up, Lea and I suited up. Quickly we got in and headed down. We figured we had about 30 minutes tops to dive. We got down on the wreck and oriented ourselves – we were in the bow section, amidst some hull plates. Lea had been here before, but this was my first dive on this wreck. The visibility was about 20 feet – certainly better than anything we had seen so far on the trip, though there was a lot of particulate in the water. We swam aft and then headed back towards the bow. We didn’t run a line so we didn’t want to get too far out from easily navigable wreckage. We swam back up heading forward and down into the wreck. In this area the wreck is a bit like a bowl, so it’s easy to get out of the current (and forget about it). We pawed around in this area for a short while and then headed up to the tip of the bow. We swam along the portside hull passing by the point of impact between the Covington and Port Hunter. I had drifted back off the hull a short distance to get a better view, but when we reached the end of the bow and got out of the lee of the wreck, the current was whipping around the corner. That was the clue to turn around and get back into the lee. We were not rounding that bow… that was for sure.

We headed back down the port side and swam around the hull plates. Time was flying by and we were approaching the 25 minute mark so I swam up and stuck my head up over the hull along the starboard side. It was like opening a door on a windy day. Fish were blowing by my head. I ducked back down and signaled to Lea that we should think about getting going. We headed back to the line and started up. The line had picked up a vibration, which is a good indicator of how much strain is on it. The current wasn’t raging yet, but it was moving. As we got out of the lee of the wreck on ascent, I had to hang on tight and as we drifted back to the stern of Gauntlet, I made sure I didn’t miss the trail line grab. It would be a fast ride away, that’s for sure. All in all the Port Hunter was an excellent dive and everyone was pleased with the day.

We cruised back through Woods Hole Pass this time, again with a favorable tide. Lori guided us through the pass giving us some great local history and info along the way. While we can certainly read a chart, there’s no substitute for local knowledge and having someone standing by next to you telling where they know the water is good. These areas are so dynamic, charts need updating all the time. Buoys get knocked out or are removed, shoals form or disappear. It’s one sketchy place at times, especially when you add in conflicting boat traffic.

The ferry running to Martha's Vineyard out of Woods Hole.  At right, the NOAA research vessel at Woods Hole.

Swirling water, currents, rocks, shoals and shallow water make Wood's Hole pass a tricky ride at times.

Once out of Woods Hole pass we cruised across Buzzards Bay and back into Fairhaven. It was quite a fun day – we dived the Cowin and Port Hunter, had a beautiful tour of the Elizabeth Islands, and we were back at the dock by 3 pm to boot. Sunday night we went out as a group to another great local restaurant – this time Italian. I must say, Fairhaven and New Bedford definitely have an abundance of great restaurants.

We returned to the boat, prepped the rigs for the final day of diving, and then hit the racks. Morning came soon, with clear skies and light winds. We loaded the boat, polished off some coffee and donuts, and then headed out to the Cowin once again.

The Col. William B. Cowin - also referred to as the "Navy Ferry Boat".

We arrived on site, picked up our mooring and quickly got suited up for the dives. On the final day, Lee kindly stood watch first so that Dave, Lea and I could dive together. After the first group of divers was in, we followed. The current had been kicking pretty good, but tapered off. When we arrived on the wreck, visibility was definitely better than the day before. I think hitting the wreck on the incoming tide near the time of high tide made a difference in this regard. We followed a line that a previous team already in the water laid out. Despite the better visibility (10-12 ft), a line was still necessary. A diver very familiar with the wreck probably wouldn’t need a line, as the wreck is navigable, but we aren’t familiar enough with this wreck to do so.

The wreck lies upright with a slight list to port. The bow section is intact, but there’s a few "gaps" in the wreckage as you work aft, particularly as you move towards the stern section aft of the boilers, which ultimately break up into shaped debris. There’s several places where you can "swim through" the wreck and under hull plates, but there’s no real penetration into the interior. At 185 feet in length, the wreck is a good size, and being intact is a huge plus. Also, at 75 feet or so maximum depth, this site affords good bottom time. I did two dives on the last day – with Lea and I jumping in one more time for the second dive to explore a few distinct areas. While I would not put this wreck into the category of "high current dive" it is important to note that the current can really rip here, but that generally it is not going to preclude diving unless you hit it at a really inopportune time during the tide change. Visibility tends to be low, but it’s safe to say that it is highly variable like most wrecks in Buzzards Bay, and this one would no doubt be a great winter or early springtime dive.

It’s hard to say which one of these wrecks was my favorite, because they are all great dives, and all very different.

While we were disappointed that it didn’t work out for the Trojan, there’s always another time – and we hope to visit Buzzards Bay again perhaps next season. The Trojan is a great dive also – lots of artifacts, and a big wreck that possibly favors better visibility compared to some of the others since its closer to the mouth of Buzzards Bay. There are still others – like the Seaconnet, the Vineyard Lightship, St. Francis – and more.

Heather back from a great dive on the Cowin.  At right, Dave works on his tan.

Brian Holmes with a nice find - a lamp.

After we finished on the Cowin, we dropped the group off and quickly turned it around to head home. The run works out to be about 5 hours for us, and it doesn’t seem to matter much whether or not we have a favorable tide for passing through the Cape Cod Canal. It was a smooth ride home and a successful trip. Thanks to all who participated and made it a fun weekend. Thanks to captains Lee Livingston and Lori Takakjian for helping us out!