slideshow

The Moment of Truth

Diving in Cerberus

by Bob Whiteway

For most of this century, the Cerberus has acted as a breakwater for small craft in Crescent Bay. This old iron and teak warship was once the pride of the Victorian Navy , but for the last half century it has lain aground in just five metres of water, out about 200 metres from the Crescent Bay jetty.

I was familiar with the sea life which encrusted its hull, but now began to wonder what it was like inside. It was late one Saturday afternoon when I was casually trailing a couple of cute little sea horses that I noticed a hole in the side of the vessel, about amidships, and only two or three metres from the surface. It was curious that I hadn't noticed it before.

Up at the surface now, it occurred to me that perhaps it was a way in, and I immediately began to consider the prospect. There were a number of considerations, but the dominant one was having access to air when I came up inside. Since the main deck was above the tide lines, it might be possible to enter through the hole and find my way to the surface, where there must be an air space below the deck. On the other hand, if there was a lower deck or some other structure that blocked the way, it would only take about 40 seconds to go in, take a quick look around and come out again. Say double that for unknown factors. It still amounted to not much more than a minute. At a pinch, I could hold my breath for about two. So down I went, fully intending to give it a go. At the entrance though I stopped dead That dark hole surrounded by seaweed - the thought of going in and being swallowed by it -maybe never coming out. The old heart was suddenly pounding like a jackhammer and I shot back up. My calculations seemed okay, yet something was telling me not to try it. I treaded water for some long moments weighing the pros and cons. Perhaps it was a bit silly. Besides, it was getting late. Best be sensible and strike out for the shore while the going was good.

The crippling thing is that I couldn't quite bring myself to chicken out either.

I looked across the water to the beach. The thought of swimming in and going home to dinner with my loved one tugged ever stronger. On the other hand, I knew damned well that I'd be sitting there at the table secretly hating myself for not having tried. For a long while I lingered in the shadows of the great iron hulk, suddenly aware of my aloneness. What if I did get trapped inside? It would grow dark soon, and cold. No one would know I was imprisoned in there. The image loomed of a steely and watery tomb that gripped me with all the horror of a child's nightmare. It was so acute that my mental faculties were reduced to a quivering jelly.

At that moment I was quite unable to dive. The looming iron mass beside me had become sinister, threatening. I treaded water for a long time, confused about what to do; indecisive, yet aware that I couldn't just stay there all night. One way or another, something had to give.

There was no way of knowing exactly how dark it would be down inside, and this now added to my apprehension and fear. But deep down I knew I couldn't live with myself if I just gave in. I was in some terrible trap and it held me immobile. I just had to get a grasp on the fact that even if the worst happened and I could not get air, I would still be able to make it back out. But the moment I did grasp it, the icy fears would take over again. The seemingly inescapable conflict now welled up, and finally, it burst out with an imperative. Do it. Just do it. There was no time for anything more. Barely enough to suck in a lung full of air. Suddenly, I was driven down. And in through the hole.

There was a low-ceilinged gangway to cross with an inner wall that fortunately had an even bigger opening than the one in the hull. It led into a shadowy chamber littered with the dark shapes of fallen structures. Once past those it was a clear swim to the surface. There was a good four or five feet between the water and the main deck, just as I had hoped. As I burst into that air space, the feeling of relief was indescribable -touched even by a moment of elation.

But now I was in -what? I looked around apprehensively in the deathly silence. There was a sense of being shut in by unforgiving walls of iron, and of one's legs dangling defencelessly in those darkened waters. The feeling of elation soon melted into renewed anxiety .However, as my eyes adjusted to the shadows it became apparent that the water was actually crystal clear. I could see the debris on the bottom of the hull quite easily and now surveyed the corroded columns and other structures both above and below the water. After a time, and very tentatively, I made my way across the chamber to an opening in the bulkhead and peeped through. The next compartment must have been directly beneath the gun turrets, for there were no openings to the deck whatsoever and admitted very little light. Progress was slow going through that gloom, and it was terribly easy to strike unseen support columns that were corroded off at the water level. Part of me was spooked and wanted to turn back, but another part was drawn by the dim patches of light that filtered through from the next room. The largest patch turned out to be a hatchway and it was through here that I was able to pass without having to submerge, and so move a little further astern.

In this third chamber there were air vents in the main deck that admitted discrete shafts of light. They stood like white pillars in the dark green of the still water. In addition to this, there was a soft illumination that resulted from the light reflected off the sandy sea floor. It entered through gaping corrosion holes deep in the vessel's hull and gave the water an entrancing turquoise radiance. These glowing openings were rimmed with seaweed that swayed ever so gently in the currents outside. For the first time I began to realise that I wasn't in some cold, tomb-like prison, but rather in the presence of an animated wonderland. Fingerling fish were silhouetted as they swam idly past the openings. illuminated beams and struts revealed sponges, sea squirts, huge mussels and larger eleven-armed sea-stars. It was so entrancing that I was drawn on to the next room.

It was a spacious area almost entirely lit by corrosion holes deep in the vessel' s hull. The room had a curved rear wall conforming to the shape of the ship's stem. This I later learned was once the Captain 's quarters. Visible through the multitude of gaps in the middle deck, on which I was standing waste deep, were the crumbling supports of the propeller shafts. It seemed that some form of marine life covered almost the entire underwater structure, yet its nature was quite different from that of the reefs. Though there were discrete light sources, the general ambience was one of a green and eerie gloom, and that meant it was too dark for algae and seaweed to survive. The result was that there were no grazing animals at all as far as I could make out -only filter feeders and their predators. As a matter of fact, one of the latter was now nibbling at my big toe. But what a quaint attack -it was the delicate little rock-pool shrimp and I giggled at the boldness of the tiny creature having a go at such a veritable giant. The shrimp was my daughter Rebecca's favourite little animal, and even now I wondered if I might bring her out here one day to experience the ghostly beauty that everywhere engulfed and entranced me. That would have to wait though until she was quite a bit older.

And as for now, I had to find a way out.

about it I returned to this captivating place many times and eventually got to know it like my own backyard. By good fortune, the hole I had first entered actually led into the boiler room and that's why there was no middle deck in the way. Everywhere else there were two decks below the water line. The lower deck, virtually at keel level, housed the engine room, ship's stores, magazine and shell rooms. The middle deck comprised the Captain's quarters, officers' state rooms, mess and crew space. There was also one tiny room all walled in by iron. I have to admit that I only went in there once. It wasn't just its darkness, for the room was so narrow that, once in, you couldn't turn-around, except on a vertical plane. This was the ship's prison and the spot still scares me just thinking about it.

As time went by , ways were found of climbing up from the water and out on to the main deck via the gun turrets. There waft: also access to the inside of the conning tower and the view at the top overlooked the entire vessel as,well as the cliffs and bay onshore.

So familiar had I become with the old war-horse that in the fifth year of the school diving program, I considered the possibility of taking the students out to it for their final dive. In such a venture, safety angles had to be carefully considered of course, but if we could bring it off, the kids would be in for an experience in a lifetime. They would have to face going through that hole, just as I did, but what a reward awaited those who succeeded. There was no doubt that their diving skills would be up to the task by then, but the memory of my own doubts and fears were still vivid and I knew full well that it would be no cakewalk. My teaching colleague, Bill Martin, and a parent, John Palmer, agreed to help out on these dives. The procedure to be adopted with the students was carefully worked out on paper, and on the weekends preceding the dive, the support staff and I visited the vessel in order to practise our respective roles. On the last of these preparation dives, a rope ladder was rigged directly up onto the main deck for those who found the hole just too daunting.

The big day came for the kids. Fortunately, the winds of the previous few days had died away and the sea was calm. The kids on the other hand seemed unusually agitated and, as we assembled at the end of the jetty , the atmosphere was one of tense excitement. After last minute instructions and reminders, we swam the two hundred metres out to the Cerberus as a group. Everyone, except John, gathered amidships above the hole. He went forward to the rope ladder.

Now for the moment of truth.

"Remember everyone. You only have to hold your breath for ten or fifteen seconds. I'll be down beside the hole to help you through if necessary , and Mr .Martin will be inside waiting for you. Okay, you all know the routine. Who's first?"
A few boys raised their hand, and I submerged, and held onto the edge of the hole. The kelp flowed to and fro around its perimeter. I waited...and waited...till eventually, I ran out of air.
"I can't hold on for ever down there," I panted. "Is anyone coming?"
We tried it again, and this time, Peter and Luke, both top divers, came down and peered in. I knew exactly how they felt. Sure enough, one look and back up to the surface they shot. And this was the best pair. Was I asking too much of them? At this rate it was going to take an age. Poor Bill was alone there inside, too. But I knew if we could just get one through, things might start to look up.
"Right, now I'm going in to give Mr .Martin the okay, then straight out again. You watch how long it takes."
The exercise took only twenty or thirty seconds and they could surely see that it wasn't such a big deal. So now for a third attempt. Down came Luke. He approached the hole. A bit tentative. Orh-Orh. Drifting up. I stretched out and got a hand on his back. A thrust downwards -and he was through. What a moment. Bill and I sensed the feeling of pride and exhilaration ,Luke was experiencing. What' s more, he'd broken the ice. He was the first, the vanguard, and in his wake others would be willing to follow.

Things went a lot better after that and proceeded tolerably well until we got to the tail-enders. These few were having a hard time of it. They'd been treading water for quite a while by this time -no doubt worrying themselves into a lather all the while. They'd be feeling an unspoken pressure to try what the others had done, but I could see they were very scared. Instead of the languid motions of the relaxed diver, their movements were staccato-like. Another tell-tail sign was the constant fidgeting with their mask and snorkel, as if the equipment were the trouble.
"Sir, do you have to do it?" "No of course not, Vicky -I told you that. Mr. Palmer's waiting up there at the ladder if you want to go up that way."
She and Emma Edwards looked along to him, still uncertain what to do.
"How about if I go down again, and you just duck dive for a look in?" They continued to stare at me without enthusiasm. "Let's try it, " I said, not waiting for a response. At length, only Emma came down, took the briefest of glances, and shot back to the surface. I followed her up.
"Okay, Emma, that was good. I'm sure you can do it. Now, once you decide, I want you to go for it full on. No half measures. Will you give it a go?"
"I don't know ...yeah, I... will I be all right?"
"Look, I'll be down there, right beside you. Nothing's going to happen." At this I reached out and touched her gently on the shoulder. "I promise, Emma -you'll be perfectly okay." I waited down there, holding my breath.

Her dive was too shallow -a common mistake and a dangerous one. I lurched for her back and forced her down deeper, and in. With frenetic flipper movements, she scurried through like a terrified rabbit. That was all right though -the moment she surfaced inside, that rabbit would change into a lioness.

There were two left. The look on their faces said it all - very frightened and utterly miserable. They just weren't ready for this little caper yet." Andy, Vicky .. I want you to go up to Mr. Palmer. He'll show you around on deck. Enjoy it. Remember the main reason we're out here is to have a fun last day. Don't give the hole another thought."

When I came up inside I was beside Bill Martin. He raised his hand and placed his right index finger to the tip of his thumb in the sign of the diver's 'okay'. No words were exchanged, but we each understood that something rare had taken place. Here at last was the quintessential challenge. It was one that extended these kids to the limits of their courage.

Over the years, Bill and I had often mused over the possibility of setting up an activity or venture of some sort that might really satisfy the teenage craving for excitement and adventure. In the context of classrooms or even outdoors they are not so easy to find. But maybe here, at last, we had found one of the best.

SlideShow program courtesy of Jason Moon