Of Shipwrecks and Seals- Shetland
by John Howe
I’m English ( Never mind John. someone has to be - Ed.) and if anyone had mentioned diving in Scotland, a few years ago, I would have replied with something about “having dived St Abbs a few times” -a terrible attitude to have had - I admit. Last summer I enjoyed a stunning weeks diving around the wild isles of Shetland, brought about by an encounter with local Shetlander and diver, Phil.
Let me explain. I’m a member of Jewel and Esk Valley B.S.A.C ( now called “Lothian Divers” - a small, but determined Edinburgh club. Last spring we took a small group and a tiny boat with a malfunctioning outboard! ( They now have a spiffing new RIB - Ed.) to Oban. A splendid time was had by all with dives on the “Breda” and Heather Isle as well as Easedale Quarry. With typical spectacular generosity Phil invited us all to Shetland - to do some “real diving” - I was tempted - I thought Oban was real diving, but like I said - I’m English.
Last July, Liz and myself steamed into Lerwick Harbour with drysuits, 15 litre cylinders and warm woollies (I was told to expect the worst). Phil met us and off we zoomed to Laxo for a first dive. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the clarity of the water - 10- 15 metre visibility was normal (I’m from Dorset - 3 metres is good!). The life was prolific with Sunstars, Scallops, Dogfish, Lobsters, Anemones, Pollack and Wrasse all common sights on one dive. I was impressed.
The next day we motored out of Dury Voe, to the east, in Phil’s boat heading for Leveneap Head where, Phil promised us “the water is a bit clearer”.I could hardly wait. The weather seemed to be against us though, as we kitted up on the rolling boat in mist and drizzle. Underwater our depression evaporated - we sank down into beautiful clear water, following the anchor line onto vertical 10 metre high blades of rock covered with Anemones, Dead Men’s Fingers and orange breadcrust Sponges and the ubiquitous Brittle-Stars. In places these “baas” had been deeply bisected into narrow gullies through which we floated being perused by friendly Wrasse. Shoals of tiny fish flashed and darted amongst the kelp-covered tops. In a depth of about 15 metres with at least that in visibility, a magical dive site. Lerwick Harbour was our next destination, to join up with a group of local divers on the charter dive boat, the “Aussie Anne”.
We had been told to prepare for “something a bit deeper” and as Jim the skipper pointed the sharp end towards the island of Bressay we were asked if we wanted to dive a two year old trawler wreck lying in 45 metres of water. She was in the process of being salvaged by him and a few friends, and was just about ready to be lifted, with the bags attached, and shotlines already in place on the bow and the stem. The bad weather was still with us, and we kitted up anxiously- pulling on our suits and searching for weightbelts hidden under the mass of equipment on the deck. “Sit on the side and I’ll pat you on the head when we’re near the buoy”,said Jim. We waited, nervously checking our gear, the adjustment of straps, a quick double check to make sure the octopus is still clipped on 15 and working OK. The boat rolled sharply as two other divers rolled off and disappeared. I felt Jim tap me and I fell over into the sea to join Liz hanging onto the buoy. We sank down in fabulously clear blue/grey water, the thick shot-line curving away to vanish into the darkness 15..20..25 metres -suddenly beneath us emerged the trawler, lying on her starboard side covered in lines, bags and lifting frames. We dropped gently onto the sloping deck at 43 metres. The wreck appeared undamaged, the holds were open and full of boxes, and the wheelhouse door was ajar, glass still in the windows covered in Barnacles and Tube Worms. We exchanged signals and finned gently off the rails sinking down the hull to the prop and rudder, resting on the boulder seabed at 48 metres.
A huge shoal of fish hung around the orange, 100 tonne lifting bags at the bows and we cautiously gave the fishing nets festooning the wheelhouse a wide berth. All too soon we regained the shot and leisurely ascended, viewing the wreck as we floated up before it was swallowed by the grey shadows that seemed to darken as we returned to 9 metres to begin our decompression. After a coffee and sandwich attack the day was completed with an eerie snorkel through a huge sea-cave in the cliffs at Bressay. Our voices echoed above us and our torches illuminated a seemingly never-ending series of passages twisting away into the darkness. The water was full of brightly coloured Jellyfish and Lobsters peeking out from under the rocky floor. We even surprised a big seal ( though I think she surprised us more!) that splashed and darted away from us.
Mousa Island is approximately 4 miles south of Lerwick. We approached its south-east coast, again with the “Aussie Anne”, hoping to dive the wreck of the “St. Sunniva”. The “St Sunniva” was a beautiful cruiser wrecked in fog in the 1930’s and was reputed to be carrying gold-plated fittings. It is a popular and well-known wreck with local divers, lying in depths of 15-33 metres in a large gully. We descended the anchor chain to arrive at 15 metres in a tangle of plates, engine parts, pipes and ribbing. Following the debris out, as the depths increased, the gully became a huge boulder strewn seabed covered with white and orange encrusting life. Wrasse and Ling hovered near us as we examined the remains of the boilers at 27 metres. In visibility of 15 metres it was possible to float down the walls and see the other side of the gully!
Lying fairly close to the “St Sunniva”, the “SS Murrayfield” makes a good second dive. To arrive at the bottom of the shotline at 25 metres and be welcomed by a huge seal somersaulting and twisting through your exhaust bubbles is an experience new to me! The wreck itself is very scattered but boilers, large plates and engine blocks can be identified. The scenery around the wreck itself is not as exciting as that of the “St Sunniva” with a flat rocky seabed with the occasional outcropping beds of rock covered with Dead Men’s Fingers and Brittle-Stars.
Our trip to Shetland wasn’t all glamorous depths and wrecks though. One of our group on the ‘”Aussie Anne” was a professional Salmon diver and I was invited to take the plunge into a 6 metre deep net full of 1800 mature Salmon. It was a strange experience to be swimming in a net surrounded by a wall of constantly moving fish. An electronic seal frightener is attached to the side of the net and emits a high-pitched shriek, clearly audible underwater to frighten away the hungry seals. The animals swim to the net and push their faces to the swimming salmon biting chunks out of them. To the salmon farmer, ‘seal’ is a dirty word and the boat tending the nets carries a .303 rifle to shoot the pests. Its a rough, low paid and dangerous job, best enjoyed, said Andy, on a cold Sunday morning with a hangover....
There is a huge variety of dives in Shetland from the deep wrecks around Lerwick to the gentle scenic dives in the Atlantic to the west. We had an amusing “Loch Longesque” type dive ( Loch Long - favourite place with lowland divers who, because of weather, cannot get in anywhere else - Ed.) in a place called Mavis Grind - where the Atlantic meets the North Sea. A very uninviting slide down a thick mud slope to 30 metres! (reminded me of home!)
Out at Muckle Roe we dived a peninsula of rock in the west, a pretty, clear and very relaxing float around a wall and gully system in blue, fish filled water. The potential of Shetland is yet to be fully realised with new dives being discovered every year.
One thing for sure - I’ll be back.