BSAC London No. 1 Branch

Anglesey, not really one of the usual suspects for UK diving, and therefore one that appealed as my very first trip with BSAC.

Weather-wise, it wasn’t a promising start when I joined the six club stalwarts on a chilly, grey and windy campsite on Saturday morning. It got less promising as we realised that we’d missed high water, and the sensible chance to launch the RIB.

The first day’s diving ended up being a re-visit of the Trearddur Bay shore dive that was explored during the first Anglesey trip a couple of weeks ago. Keith managed to lose a fin but still outswim Jim and Alex, Raf discovered the extraordinary buoyant properties of wearing all the clothes you’ve brought for the weekend under a drysuit, and George and Vanya spent some quality time fondling dogfish. Welcome to BSAC and Welsh diving!

Fuelled by an excellent stew made by George, and hungry for a dive that could offer more than 3 metres of ebbing seawater, we revisited the same site for a night dive.

I was pleasantly surprised by the colour and variety of life with blue lobsters, crabs, anemones, flat fish and a big compass jelly fish making appearances; there was even relatively decent visibility (perhaps I’ve done too many training dives in Wraysbury and Stoney Cove??). George didn’t hesitate to correct me on my opinion – apparently it was a sh*t dive, and it was all Keith’s fault!

A cold and noisy night later (the BSAC No1 snoring choir was accompanied by the rhythmic thud of our neighbour’s favourite club anthems), and we were ready for Day Two.

Last-minute planning with a dive guide that unhelpfully promised ‘dangerous currents’ and ‘extremely dangerous currents’ for almost every site meant that we got out to the first boat dive site, the wreck of the Angloman by Skerries lighthouse, 15 minutes too late.

With confusing surface currents, growing swell and ‘very dangerous overfalls’ (that helpful dive guide again…), Keith called off the dive and we trundled round the corner into the Skerries lagoon.

A surfacing diver on a smaller boat gave his summary of his underwater experience as ‘crap’ (obviously he and George attended the same lecture on dive site description). He wasn’t wrong. With poor visibility and nothing to see, it was a quick in-and-out. Above surface the colonies of arctic terns and puffins nesting on the rocks made the boat trip just about worthwhile.

Raf capitalised on his powerboat licence with a rollercoaster ride back to Holyhead harbour, and we regrouped for a second attempt on the Angloman at the afternoon low water slack. This time we got down. At ten metres we were fishing around for our torches. At the bottom of the shot line, 24 metres, it felt like we’d descended into a very black hell, with added silt. Alex and I didn’t find the wreck, but made our way around a course of rocks that loomed from the murk just before we swam into them.

It was the kind of dive that you’re sometimes grateful for – you’d never choose it, but it certainly makes you pay attention to your gear, your buddy and your air! And I came out feeling like I’d got some good experience of poor conditions. And, when the rock faces did loom in front of us they revealed thriving colonies of sponges, crustaceans and numerous jelly fish.

Group consensus meant we didn’t attempt a third dive, on the wreck of the Harold. It was likely that this site would suffer ‘very dangerous and strong currents that are dangerous and strong’ (the guide book) and terrible visibility that we’d experienced at the Angloman. We wrapped up for the day and headed ‘home’ to the tents.

I pretty much doubled my repertoire of knots over an evening curry, although after an hour I think Keith was just saying words and tying things up (a Turk’s Head on a Bight, anyone??).

Day Three and we were back to the south western coast of the island, in search of better vis and some easily accessible sites.

Beautiful sunshine quickly turned to a thick grey sea mist, but we headed out nonetheless to the wreck of the Missouri, in 12 metres. The visibility was good, Jim’s internal metal detector meant that navigating from one part of the wreck to the next was child’s play, and again, the marine life was pretty decent.

The core four, Keith, Jim, George and Vanya stuck around for the Tuesday, but the threat of more unsettled weather threw the chance of diving into question.

I really enjoyed the weekend – thanks for the welcome to the club! I even got to drive the boat, play at rescuing man-overboard buoys, and then real man-overboard jetskiiers! It was a real pleasure to dive with such experienced buddies – I’m hopeful that one day I too will be able to gracefully hover at three metres with an empty tank…

Two things to heed for next time – don’t dive Anglesey on a Spring Tide. And if you do, allow plenty of time to formulate plans A, B, C, and D, and then a contingency plan for when none of those are feasible. And advance knowledge of the slack times and dive times – in such a tidal area dive planning over the cornflakes is never going to work out too well. Otherwise you’ll find yourself on a beach with the RIB on the trailer, watching the sea recede into the distance…

I’m looking forward to the next trip – and a chance to use my new-found boat handling skills and knot-tying. Unless it’s a clove hitch of course, which is actually not a knot at all.