The Vigsnes was torpedoed by U1172 on 23 January 1945 while carrying a cargo of coal from Cardiff to Liverpool. It now stands upright, a good 10 metres clear of the seabed at 46 metres. The Vigsnes was torpedoed by U1172 on 23 January 1945 while carrying a cargo of coal from Cardiff to Liverpool. It now stands upright, a good 10 metres clear of the seabed at 46 metres.
My host is Scott Waterman of Quest Diving Charters. Before the dive Scott had shown me photographs, original blueprints and his own sketch of this 1,599 ton freighter. I love it when people make things so easy for me. All I have to do is descend and make notes on the current disposition of the wreck, snapping photographs as I go.
As a wartime freighter the Vigsnes had been fitted with a number of guns. None of the actual guns are still in place, but the remains of gun platforms and mounts can be found at the stern and collapsed above the amidships superstructure, with quantities of small calibre ammunition partly buried by debris and silt.
Coal from the holds is scattered about the bow deck, though that in the holds is now well buried beneath silt which has settled into the holds over the years. One anchor remains, interestingly dangling on a metre or so of chain from its hawse pipe. At the stern the propeller has been salvaged and the rudder removed, presumably to facilitate access to the propeller.
The Vigsnes is a Second World War wreck, but the waters of Anglesey are home to a plethora of wrecks from all eras. Mike is archaeological licence holder for the Resurgam, an early submarine that sank while under tow on 25 February 1880. Our second dive is on this historic submarine so that archaeologist Mike Bowyer can check anodes placed to reduce corrosion of the now delicate hull.
Its not much of a wreck, just a ship's boiler with cones riveted on either end to give an overall length of 13.7 metres. A small conning tower protrudes amidships and there are the overgrown remains of a propeller at the stern. It only takes a few minutes to swim round the wreck and see everything. Even so, a chance to have a look at such a historically significant submarine is well worth it as a second dive.
The hull is plastered in big white and orange plumose anemones so that the only bare metal is the anodes and clamps holding them in place. The anodes are in remarkably good condition, something which disappoints Mike as it indicates they may not be doing their job of protecting the wreck from further corrosion.
Being based at Menai Bridge makes a lot of sense. Depending on the weather we can head for whichever side of Anglesey is sheltered, offshore, inshore, or in the worst case in the Straits itself. Next day the good weather holds and Scott heads south down the Menai Straits. The visibility had been good enough to the north of the island, but he is hoping it will be better to the south.
It's a lazy 2.5 hours to the wreck of the Segontium. We have 30 minutes to slack water which turns out useful as it takes several tries to get the shot hooked in to this small wreck. In the end the first pair of divers make a hands off descent and tie the line into the railing the shot is dragging alongside.
It rests upright and intact with the deck at 28 metres and the seabed just past 30 metres. Ideal for the average club dive where everyone can have a decent time on the wreck and see it all without getting into too much decompression.
Visibility is better and brighter, but still a bit scummy from plankton in the water. With a rebreather I manage a 40 minute no-stop dive, taking my time to work round the wreck in detail.
Scott heads the boat inshore to the wreck of the Kimya, a 997 ton tanker which sank on 6 January 1991. The Kimya originally capsized further offshore in a storm. The hull was righted by clearing the superstructure and towed inshore where it was beached, the aim being to prevent the cargo of sunflower oil leaking. An exercise of dubious success as the Kimya has subsequently been the subject of a number of scientific studies on the effect of sunflower oil spillage on the marine environment.
The Kimya now rests on a sandy 10 metre seabed with the bow breaking the surface at low water. We arrive just after the bow has disappeared below the virtually flat sea.
By the time we have had lunch the bow is 3 metres under. Considering the shallow water I am amazed at how intact the wreck is. The anchor winch and part of the catwalk above the tanks now rests just off the port side, but everything else is there as far back as the superstructure.
Here it is more broken, with most of the upper works gone and the diesel engine exposed. The prevailing marine life is a muscle bed which has grown over the wreck, with the accompanying predatory herds of starfish munching their way across. Nevertheless, even this shallow there are plumose anemones under overhangs on exposed corners.
For my remaining 2 days we stick with the north side of Anglesey. For first dives we explore the wrecks of the Ardlough and Chacabuco. For second dives Scott drops us in near the seals at Puffin island and on the wreck of the dredger Hoveringham in the Menai Straights. Some of the divers also have a stimulating drift over ledges in Puffin Sound, a dive I elect to miss as the shallow washing machine effect is not pleasant to endure with a rebreather.
The Ardlough was a modern 998 ton freighter that struck the dock wall leaving Liverpool on 25 September 1988. At the time the damage was thought to be inconsequential, but that night the holds had flooded to the point where the crew were evacuated by helicopter and the Ardlough sank 16 miles north of Great Orme's Head in 42 metres.
It takes me a while to settle down on this dive. I can't put my finger on anything specific. We have slack water, improving visibility and reasonable natural light. My rebreather is working perfectly with a fresh scrubber canister. I had only one Guinness the night before and a good night's sleep. I just feel uneasy. As a consequence, even though I can see the Ardlough is a spectacular wreck, it is 15 minutes or more into the dive before I really begin to enjoy it.
Its funny how on so may older wrecks the superstructure collapses but the hull survives intact, whereas on a more modern ship the big steel superstructure might survive, but the holds collapse.
The Ardlough is typical of this. The stern and bow are virtually intact. The stern lists slightly to starboard, the superstructure rising as shallow as 22 metres and the propeller and rudder hidden in a scour at 43 metres. The bow is upright, both anchors in place and a stub of mast rising above the deck, damage to the starboard side most likely a result of the collision which sank the ship. As usual, everything is covered in enormous plumose anemones.
In between the holds are devastated. I can't find one bit of hull that is still standing upright. The sides have fallen a mixture of in and out of the holds, the coamings broken into sections and the deck a mess.
I only find a few containers just off the starboard side of the wreck. Accounts of the sinking recant containers breaking loose and floating round Liverpool bay for days.
Both the Kimya at 997 tons and the Ardlough at 998 tons are awfully big wrecks for their stated tonnage compared to many older wrecks. There must be some funnies in the way the tonnage of a ship is estimated which have changed over the years.
The Chacabuco is an altogether different kind of wreck, with the broken remains well scattered and partly buried by a 2 metre high bank of sand. This 999 ton steel hulled sailing ship sank in a collision with the steamship Torch on 1 March 1873, making it an even older wreck than the Resurgam.
The thing which strikes me about the Chacabuco is the sheer number of fish. Huge shoals of bib virtually obscure the bow and much of the sand banked up behind it. Further out pollack cruise in looser formation.
After the collision the Torch was taken under tow and subsequently sank a few miles away in 20 metres. On a day with the right tides it is possible to dive the 30 metre deep Chacabuco on one slack water and then the shallower Torch as a second dive. The tides didn't work out for me, but it is certainly worth bearing in mind as a novel theme for a day's diving.