Halifax
One of the best things about diving in the United Kingdom is that we have more wrecks per mile of coastline than anywhere else in the world, which begs the question: If we are number one for wrecks, who comes second? The answer... Nova Scotia.
Transatlantic shipping passes along the east coast of Nova Scotia. The St Lawrence seaway, one of the worlds busiest shipping lanes (after the English Channel) exits round the north tip of Nova Scotia. There is lots of potential for mishaps involving rocks, fog, snow, ice, collisions with other ships and foul weather. Add to this marshalling areas for wartime Atlantic convoys and prowling U-boats and the consequence is over 5,000 recorded wrecks, just a small percentage of which have been dived. I can't wait to get started.
The flight had been comfortable and stress free. It isn't much further than the Red Sea. One of the nice things about transatlantic flights is the baggage allowance and Air Canada is no exception. 2 bags up to 32 kilograms each means there are no arguments about excess baggage when travelling with drysuit and camera. Much more diver friendly than most cold water travel.
At baggage collection Snoopy the customs dog gets very excited about my hand luggage. I know exactly what it is, the lingering smell of sausage sandwich from my breakfast which had been stored in the top pocket.
This friendly and loveable little fink of a basset hound gets me diverted aside for a full search and inspection. I can't understand what anyone would want to smuggle into Canada from the UK because everything in Canada is so much cheaper. Nevertheless I just smile and let the customs lady get on with her job. My bags have been searched before and I am sure it will happen again. Besides, I would never risk arguing with a customs inspector. Provoke them too far and they could get the rubber gloves out.
Terry Dwyer from Atlantic Dive Tours meets me and asks if I have remembered to bring my shorts. Outside the sky is a perfect blue and the climate almost Mediterranean. Not surprising really as on the map Nova Scotia is at the same latitude as southern part of France.
Bohemian
But I do mean cold water travel. Next day the water temperature on the wreck of the Bohemian is a chilly 7 degrees. I have 2 pairs of gloves with me and had decided to risk the lighter pair, despite my buddy Sam, a local dive instructor, pulling on 5 millimetre 3 finger mitts.
After 20 minutes I am regretting it. Any dexterity originally gained from the thin gloves has now been lost and I resort to rolling my hands across camera controls rather than grasping them with fingers, the same technique as I would have resorted to with thicker gloves and warmer fingers.
The Bohemian was a 5,444 ton steamship that hit Sambro Ledges on 5 March 1920 while coming into Halifax to top up with coal.
The forward part of the wreck is well broken with a good covering of kelp. Now heading for the stern my numb fingers are forgotten as I get more and more excited about the dive.
The kelp suddenly gives way to clearly visible debris, mostly pink and pale green in colour from a calcifying algae with hordes of sea urchins munching their way about. The wreck has obviously been commercially salvaged, something common to nearly all the wrecks I would dive, yet enough remains to make an interesting dive.
At the stern the highlight of the dive is the complete steering engine attached to the top of the rudder post. The ring of the steering quadrant is gilded with plumose anemones. Its only 24 metres deep, but I have been down for 40 minutes and I am a bit rushed by this point as air is running low and deco starting to accumulate.
Between dives skipper Dave manoeuvres his boat into Sambro Island so we can stretch our legs and have a look at one of the oldest lighthouses in Canada. Now automated, many of the keepers' buildings are derelict and a pair of old iron signalling cannon are just lying in the undergrowth.
Portia
One of Terry's favourite dives is the Portia, a schooner rigged 732 ton steamship that struck Big Fish Shoal while heading for Halifax in 1899.
Skipper Dave dryly remarks that he isn't so sure about this one as it lies on a flat sandy seabed close to a small reef and he does not have it buoyed. I don't know why he was cautious, as I descend the shot line I can see the wreck spread below me, just an outline of steel and kelp on the sand at 21 metres with the shot right next to the boiler.
I do a quick circuit end to end, there is not a great deal of structure left. Just an outline on the sand with a few bits sticking up. To be honest, this is the only wreck I can't get that excited about. It's definitely one for those who like to rummage in the sand for trinkets rather than take in a bigger picture.
The Russian
Arriving at the boat it is an even clearer and calmer day than before. Skipper Dave remarks that it would be a good day for "The Russian".
"The Russian" is the local nickname for the Kolkhosnik, a freighter carrying, amongst other things, a deck cargo of M3 Grant tanks. It has something of a mystique amongst local divers, at 42 metres being the deepest wreck that it is sensible to dive on air.
We hadn't planned to dive it, but we did by a stroke of fate have twin sets. It wasn't a difficult decision to make. The Letitia would have to wait.
As with most of the wrecks, there is a buoy on the Kolkhosnik with a line heavy enough to tie up to.
On previous dives I had been experiencing some problems with the port of my camera housing fogging over, a consequence of hot sunshine followed by immersion in cold water. The fog would clear after 15 minutes or so as the housing cooled down. Tolerable on a shallow dive, but not that good a solution when constrained by depth and time. Skipper Dave comes to my rescue with a bucket of cold water, cooling the camera for 15 minutes while we kit up.
On the way down we cross a couple of thermoclines. By the time I am on the wreck the temperature is just 4 degrees. The benefit is incredibly clear water, though it is a little dark.
Most of the hull has been blasted out during salvage of the cargo of tin and nickel ingots, leaving the boilers and engine intact and upright and propeller haft exposed.
The Kolkhosnik was heading from Boston to Halifax to join an Atlantic convoy when on 17 January 1942 she struck Smithson rock and sank. At the time there were rumours of torpedo attack, but simple navigation error is the more likely cause of sinking. With the wreck now still a recognisable shape but spread out on the seabed, any trace of the original hole has been obscured by subsequent damage.
We follow the propeller shaft to the stern, biasing our route slightly to starboard where two of the M3 Grant tanks have come to rest. One upside down and one on its side.
The M3 Grant was a predecessor of the much more successful M4 Sherman tank, having similar suspension but a very different hull and turret. The main 76 millimetre gun was carried in a barbette on the right side of the hull, with a turret above carrying a smaller 37 millimetre gun.
I have dived Sherman tanks, Valentine tanks, Stuart tanks, and some Japanese tanks, but these are my first Grant tanks. Exposed corners and wheels are garnished with some lovely plumose anemones.
It takes a brisk 25 minutes to cover the wreck end to end and get back to the buoy line. On the way pausing to check out the stern gun, steering, propeller, bow, anchors, ammunition and more Grant tanks. Decompression on air takes another 30 minutes hanging on in a gentle surface current. The 3 metre stop feels positively warm in the 12 degree surface layer.
In my log book there are few wrecks as inspiring as the Kolkhosnik.
I later asked Terry about oxygen, nitrox and helium. He doesn't keep any in stock, but has arranged supplies in the past for groups planning technical trips, and can also lay in supplies of scrubber for those travelling with a rebreather.
For those inspired to base a technical expedition in Halifax, skipper Dave has run dives to a submarine at 54 metres, the British Freedom at 64 metres, the Kaparren at 73 metres and the Clayquot at 100 metres.
City of Vienna
The City of Vienna was a first war troopship returning Canadian troops home. On 2 July 1918 the City of Vienna was in fog and steering close inshore as a precaution against submarine attack when it hit Black Rocks just north of Sambro Island.
Grey seals watch from the rocks and the water as we kit up. I wear my thicker gloves. The wreckage is again well broken, with the shallower parts obscured by kelp.
The buoy line is tied on next to an up-ended donkey boiler, the side cracked open to reveal rows of fire tubes. We head up current towards the deeper end of the wreck in 20 metres, the bow judging by the fittings and lack of any engine or propeller shaft remains.
Returning amidships and slightly up the slope, I am surprised to see a more intact full size boiler standing on end 5 metres shallower than the Donkey boiler, perhaps the shallowest part of the ship.
Sam starts ferreting about below the sprigs of kelp, brushing them aside to reveal piles of 6 inch shells. Quite a large gun for anti submarine use, and unlikely to be cargo as the City of Vienna was returning from Europe.
Our plan for the next day is to dive the Letitia, a 5764 ton passenger liner converted to a hospital ship. The Letitia had seen extensive service in the Mediterranean off Malta and in the Dardenelles and was returning to Halifax with wounded soldiers when on 1 August 1917, the pilot made a mistake and the Letitia struck the rocks at Portuguese Cove.
The wreck now lies down a slope with the stern just short of 40 metres. I always travel with a few spare cam bands to rig a twin set, and Sam gets his set out of the store room.
Titanic
There are 350 wrecks in Halifax harbour and its approaches, many resulting from navigation errors on the way in. Even the Titanic was heading for Halifax when it struck the iceberg in the North Atlantic, and the survivors were landed in Halifax by the Carpathi. Terry's other business, Movie Marine Canada, worked on the underwater scenes for the Titanic film.
Prior to the Titanic, the worst shipwreck of its time was the 3,390 ton White Star liner Atlantic, wrecked on Mosher island while approaching Halifax on 1 April 1873 with a loss of 547 lives. It's a well known local dive, but I just didn't have time to fit this one in.
Halifax Explosion
Another pair of wrecks I didn't dive are the French steamship Mont Blanc and the Norwegian steamship Imo. The reason being that their remains are spread over several square miles. The Mont Blanc was carrying 3,000 tons of nitro-glycerine with a deck cargo of drums of benzine. On 6 December 1917 the Mont Blanc was leaving Halifax harbour when it collided with the Imo.
The benzene caught fire and 20 minutes later the nitro-glycerine exploded. It was the biggest man made bang prior to nuclear weapons and about the same explosive force as a modern tactical nuke. Bits of metal from the wrecks were found many miles away. Half the city was flattened, 1,200 killed, 2,000 wounded, and a further 6,000 made homeless.
I spent an idle afternoon reading about all of these famous wrecks and further back into archaeological wrecks at the Halifax Maritime Museum, located on the waterfront in downtown Halifax. The museum also has an extensive display of ship models and outside a World War Two corvette is preserved with all of its submarine hunting paraphernalia. I also found out that Captain Joshua Slocum, a man born in Nova Scotia, was the first to sail single handed round the world between 1895 and 1898.
Daniel Steinman
Back to the diving and an older wreck is the Daniel Steinman, a 1,790 ton steamship that struck Mad Rock Shoal on 3 April 1884, having crossed the Atlantic and making for Halifax.
The age of the Daniel Steinman provides interesting engineering, yet although there is a fair spread of flattened ribs and plates, the main diving interest is the cargo. Areas of broken bottles indicate where wine and champagne were carried. We can't find any intact bottles, but Sam holds a neck and base together for a photo.
Further forward are concreted remains of bales of wire, followed by similarly concreted remains of a large pile of passenger baggage. This is definitely both a whole wreck exploration and a rummage dive. At only 22 metres deep we get a good 45 minutes no stop time.
Letitia
I finally get back to diving the hospital ship Letitia. Sam is teaching an open water class so I dive with Rob, another local instructor whose main business is as a freelance TV cameraman. Amongst coincidence he covered surface shots of the Carpathia expedition for the History Channel.
Skipper Dave ties up to a buoy line tied in to a large piece of wreckage in just 5 metres of water. From here we navigate out through a maze of reef to the main line of the wreck which angles down the slope.
With a change of wind the water is more mixed up and although the deep water is now warmer, the visibility is no-where near the wonderful clarity I had experienced on the Kolkhosnik.
At 30 metres the slope becomes a short wall and the wreck is more broken before the stern at 40 metres. I find various winches, bollards and the steering gear, but couldn't find either of the two propeller shafts or rudders.
On the way back I work off my decompression searching in amongst the shallow reef for the buoy line. I find all sorts of scraps of the Letitia, but end up surfacing a good 25 metres away from the boat.
Shopping
The end of the trip and decompression day. The standard way to spend it is shopping as everything in Canada is so cheap and there is so much baggage allowance to play with. Apparently some divers end up having to buy extra suitcases to carry all the goodies home.
I fantasise about filling a suitcase with fresh meat. Terry had cooked some excellent barbecues and meat prices are ridiculously low. Then I remember Snoopy and how excited he had got over just the residual smell of sausage sandwich. Maybe bringing fresh meat home is not such a bright idea. In the end I settle for a few pairs of jeans.
The trouble with Nova Scotia is there is just not enough time to do it all. In addition to the local diving round Halifax I had been further north to Cape Breton, Louisburg and St Paul Island and only just scratched the surface. I still have four thousand nine hundred and something wrecks to go.
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