Is this the way to the pub?

It was going to be just another dive on the Kronprinz Wilhelm ( a 25000 ton German battleship which had capsized when it had sunk).

John, my buddy told me he had seen a brass plate in the muzzle of the port side barrel belonging to the most aft turret. So down we went. We reached the highest part of the wreck which is the keel standing at 18 meters and then took the well finned path down towards the black abyss beneath the deck. We passed the first of the two turrets then came upon the aft turret where we positioned ourselves. John facing the muzzle and myself between the two barrels. These barrels are each 50 foot long and weigh fifty tons each. You could push a telegraph pole down them and it wouldn’t even touch the sides. The muzzle and last third of the barrel is about 5 foot off the sea bed

John spent the whole dive pushing, pulling, yanking and cursing at the brass plug/plate that was in the end of the barrel, but it still wouldn’t come out. I meanwhile held the torch shining over the barrel and kept an eye on the time, (pre computer era). After fourteen minutes I signalled to John thumbs up, he duly returned my signal. I ducked under the barrel to turn toward the opening some 25 to 30 feet away. As I straightened myself up after this manoeuvre I felt John touch my right side. I stopped to see what he wanted but there was no further communication. John was not there. Due to my and John's movement the viz around me was now less than 2 feet. So from my upright position I had to turn around 100 degrees to face my intended exit route. This I did confidently finning my way to freedom but instead I swam into a scuttle. I had seen this once before and thought I knew which direction to take next.

So again but with a little less confidence, I headed off towards freedom. Alas though for the next obstacle to bar my way was the gun barrel I had spent the last fourteen minutes with. At least I knew where I was though. I’ll just move along the barrel toward the turret face and so out by the same way I came in. Well after 6 to 7 foot of gun barrel I found myself back at the muzzle, not where I intended to be... (getting exciting isn’t it ?). I had just spent the last 2 minutes, which seemed like 22 minutes bumping and groping around in a big muddy circle. At this stage of the dive I was beginning to wonder if I should start to panic, but the fact that the pubs were just opening caused me to compose myself. I Had Something To Live For.

So there I was back at square one having just completed an unintentional tour of a battleship. Now as you will remember the barrel was about 5 foot parallel to the sea bed. Anyway for some reason (I don’t know why) I had placed both hands on the barrel and pulled myself up above it. Lo and behold, up there the viz was gin clear. The stirred up silt had not risen above six feet and I could see my turquoise coloured exit hole in the distance. As I swam through the hole my only thoughts were for my buddy John because as far as I knew he was still under the wreck. I stopped in the opening and turned around to look back. I swung my torch to and fro and shouted as best I could, but there was no response.

I did the slowest ascent that nerves would allow me to do and as I surfaced and turned towards the dive boat there at the bottom of the ladder, just about to climb it was John. He had touched me accidentally whilst passing me and thought I was behind as he finned through out from underneath the wreck.

It takes more than a battleship to keep me from the pub. Can't wait till June 95.

Derek Pearson - Totnes BSAC