In August 1917 the 1310-ton steamship Swansea Vale was loaded with maple wood, destined for the British Army via Dunkirk. Wood filled the holds and was piled high above deck.
Wary of U-boats, the voyage started with a convoy, but problems with poor quality coal meant that it could not maintain convoy speed and lagged behind. In a thick fog the lone Swansea Vale had to survive the many natural hazards of the Brittany coastline in addition to the continuous threat of U-boat attack. On the other hand, maybe it was the fog that saved the ship from U-boats.
We experienced some heavy sea fogs while in Brittany. On an oily smooth sea there were some weird effects, with no horizontal visibility, but a bright blue sky and sunshine. I was easy to appreciate how dangerous such fog can be, especially without modern navigation aids.
Anyway, fuel problems and fog behind it, the Swansea Vale finally fell victim to an error by the pilot whilst entering the port of Goulet. Apparently he got the channel lights wrong and the Swansea Vale ended up on the rocks.
Efforts were made to pull the ship loose, but eventually all hope was lost and the Swansea Vale was left to sink. The ship finally went under on the morning of 8 August 1917, leaving behind a huge cloud of maple wood flotsam.
As a dive, the Swansea Vale couldn't have been a better introduction to Brittany. Dead on slack water, a flat calm sea, 15 metre visibility, and an upright wreck in 30 metres.
The holds has broken open and collapsed most of he way to the seabed, but amidships is reasonably intact and upright, with boilers and engine still in place. Similarly the stern is upright, with just enough holes rotted through the hull plates to make some interesting swim throughs.
The thing that really struck me about the Swansea Vale was the vibrant colour of the anemones covering the hull and the overall level of light. The water background appeared much bluer than usual, very little of the green cast we get along the South Coast of England.
Whilst stalking a pair of cuttlefish below the stern I spotted a John Dory loitering by the propeller. Alas the recurring problem of underwater photography. I had my favourite 14mm wreck lens on the camera and just couldn't get close enough to it, even when diving with a rebreather. Back above the stern, an interesting extra is the black and white tiled bathroom floor.
At the opposite end the bows are in a similar state of intactness, but this time fallen to starboard. The seabed is a fine sand covered in brittle stars.