Want to come diving in Chuuk ? Read this first !
Trip Start
Mar 17, 2007
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314
401
Trip End
Ongoing
Chuuk, Micronesia
Thursday, July 3, 2008
We did not do a lot besides diving: our land tour was cancelled because of the rain and we just could not get enough of the diving. We met very nice people, who also made Hubby's birthday special.
Dr T got a massage and came back with a big smile in his face and a ... cannot tell you: his mum is reading this!
My favorite shorts fell apart. Don't laugh: it IS a big deal! I cannot wear my miniskirts here. Which leaves me with one pair of shorts, for diving and the evening.
We like Chuuk and this is one of the few places we would like to come back to, one day. I LOVE wrecks and this has been wreck paradise.
IF we inspired you to come diving in Chuuk, read this first. It is a summary of what Dr T thinks of wreck diving here:
It's difficult to describe a Wreck Dive to someone who has not been down there. But perhaps I can provide a taste:
"First of all, we swim down to the wreck. From the outside, in the half-light of the undersea, the interior of the wreck appears completely dark. We enter through a doorway or a torpedo hole or a cargo bay. Entering is a leap of faith. If you are the first to go into that darkness, then you have no way of knowing what lies inside. Following someone is not much better: you see the first diver enter and become swallowed up; like entering a portal in a bad sci-fi novel. At least when you follow, you can presume the first diver will have screamed if attacked by something in the darkness.
Then you are in the first room, and you immediately lose your night vision. Everything is black even though you torch is on. This is not something for those afraid of the dark.
Then your night vision returns and you can see the interior by the light coming through the hole you entered; and supplemented a little by the torch. The interior looks very industrial. These ships were before computers and hydraulics. There are valves everywhere which have no obvious use; but once were critical. And rivets. Everywhere rivets and pipes, and big chunky controls.
As you go through the next room you discover the ships were made for little Japanese sailors. The spaces are tiny. Really, they must have recruited midgets back then. If I tried to stand up my head would easily touch the roof, and I cannot pass through doors without twisting my broad shoulders. This is a place you need to squeeze into.
And then you realize that much of the ironwork has detached and is sticking into the interior. These lumps of metal are like swords waiting to cut you or entangle you. You notice some of the swords have Fire-Coral growing on them. If you touch this, even briefly, then you will get a stinging burn which lasts a fortnight. It's like walking through a small apartment, in the dark, blocked with junk, and with sharp poisoned swords filling the empty spaces; and only a small torch for guidance.
Being divers we navigate this in 3D - it is not for beginners who have poor buoyancy control - it is too easy to float to the ceiling or sink to the floor. And lucky we are swimming in 3D: the companionways and railings have twisted like a Salvador Dali painting; warped by the explosions that sunk the vessel and then eroded by the sea.
As you go deeper, you lose sight of the entry and are in pitch black. The rooms seem tiny. This is not for the claustrophobic. Moreover, if you are not watching carefully, the diver in front or behind can turn a corner, and then you find yourself alone in the dark... unsure of the way forward or back. There should be strings for guidance, but there is not. If you lose sight of the others then you have to pray that your light does not go out and that you can find the exit before your air runs out.
Worse than losing the others, is when all the divers bunch up for some reason. The space is cramped and if the lead divers decide to turn around and come back, there is inevitable jostling as everyone turns around. And just as inevitably you will hook up on a sword, or brush a fire coral, or tangle you equipment in a valve. The only thing that makes a small engine room smaller is filling it with six divers.
And then, please remember, these wrecks are mass graves. Hundreds died on each ship. And you can come across human remains, skulls, thighs, bits of bone on what was once bed or a table. This is no place for the squeamish. This place is spooky, and coming across a turtle causes a fright in this darkness.
And then you hear your dive computer alarm go off. Normally recreational divers stay down less than the "NDL", which means in emergency we can swim to the surface without getting the bends. But all of these wreck dives exceed this limit, and typically this occurs whilst we are deep inside the wreck. When we leave we may then have to wait up to 22 minutes underwater. If there is an emergency we cannot simply go the surface. We need to be sure we have enough air in our tanks to get out of the wreck, and wait in shallow water for the nitrogen to leave our bloodstream. In the dark you can hear everyone's alarms going off as we exceed the normal parameters."
Why doing it? Do not know for sure about Dr T. Me? Because I am passionate about diving. And my favorite dives are inside the wrecks. You visit a world, which otherwise would stay inaccessible for you. Here, I could feel the weight of decades resting on those ships.
With the eye of my imagination, I see people walking around on these decks, slaving in the engine room, taking a bath, loading the canons, having their meal. An experience, only exceeded by the sentiment of walking in Rome, Athens or Jerusalem. (Right, Broekske?)
The history is ALIVE. Sure you can watch a documentary or read a book, but inside the wrecks, you are there! There, where it all happened.
I do believe, dives like that, are a bit flirting with dead. There was NO security at all: no robes, attaching you to the exit, no spare lights, no special training, no experience required, no minimum dives, no security briefing, no questions about claustrophobia.
I am not going to recommend this to you. But maybe, maybe, if you still wanna do it, after our horror stories, you WILL love it.
So: we paid 75 $ for the room for a night and 105 $/person per day for diving (2 dives). PLUS gear which was another 35 $/person/day. Yep: it is expensive but you cannot do Chuuk cheaper.
The hotel:
http://www.bluelagoondiveresort.com/
And: we will be back.
Bye to the nice people we met there: it was a pleasure.
Comments
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Right, Ramina!!!!!