Dive Camp 2000
by Neil HambletonParticipants:
- Tam (Dive Marshal) and Mrs. Tam
- Steve
- Marc and Sheren
- Paul H.
- Doris
- Zembia
- Neil and Louisa
- and we mustn't forget Hong and Sophia
SCDC Dive
camps are a little bit special, and this year's was no exception, although we
should perhaps remove the word "Dive" from the title. This
year, after years of persuasion, Mrs. Tam agreed to come along to find
out what is so great about them. It got off to a good start,
Saturday was a beautiful day, the wind had dropped and it was nice and not
too sunny. We were supposed to leave at 2 pm, but by the time we'd loaded all
the beer and a couple of cylinders it was nearer 3. Etsuko was unable to make
the camp, which left Steve on the scrounge for food. Fortunately Sheren had
overcatered as usual. In addition Tam had brought along our Guest of
honour - Babe - a half-cooked piglet with a large trident delicately inserted up
its behind.
The weather forecast was not really in our favour. The wind direction did not
leave many suitable
beaches. The only one that looked a likely candidate was Tai Long Wan, so
in the hope of getting a night dive on the concrete wreck we set off.
Despite the forecast the wind was
a lot lighter than we'd been expecting, but when we arrived, the concrete barge
was apparently a little too exposed (personally I think that was just an excuse and that
Marc and Steve couldn't find it). Instead we headed to the northernmost beach which seemed
to offer the most shelter. Marc swam over to check the beach, and stake his claim to the
best real-estate. By now the wind was picking up a bit and it was getting late.
In an unsuccessful attempt to get to the beach before dark we loaded the tender.
The beach may have been the most sheltered, but we still had to battle through some
waves on the way in. Finally we all made it ashore, wet but relatively safe, apart
from 3 lunatics who did a 10 minute night dive, saw a fish,
then joined us later.
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Marc chose an excellent spot for the barbecue, and had built a huge new
grill specially for the occasion. With memories of an earlier dive camp with Marc,
and some doubts about whether the sea was going to fill up the entire beach,
most of us opted to delay putting
up tents until after high tide at 10 pm.
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Just as we were debating how to cook Babe, Doris
casually mentioned that Tam, Paul and Hong needed a bit of a hand with the tender.
That turned out to be an understatement, as it was three-quarters full of water.
We spent 10 minutes trying to bail it out, but were fighting a losing battle as
more and more waves crashed over us. It got so bad that
even Steve was forced to abandon his role as a
streetlight (albeit a short, rotund one), put down his torch, take his
kit off and get into the water to help. If you're ever in the same situation,
make sure you're
not the one bailing out the battery compartment as water and electricity don't
make a good combination. And don't be deceived by the small size of the battery
either. By the time I'd finished, I was surprised that there was any
charge left in it. Finally
we were able to get Hong on his way again. However it did prevent him bringing
over the tables and chairs that have become
a very welcome fixture at recent dive camps. Unfortunately in the excitement
we'd also bailed out a bunch of crabs and some fish that we'd been hoping to stick on the
barbie.
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 Pig on a stick, anyone? |
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Anyway after that small piece of misfortune, it was time for a(nother)
beer, and the food was ready. As usual the evening faded into a dim memory, and
eventually into no memory at all. There were several highlights. The food was excellent.
Babe was a
tremendous success and hopefully one of his relatives will be invited to the
next dive camp. The stars were as clear as you will get in
Hong Kong. Out of the city lights, it's amazing how many and how bright they are.
The wind kept things cool and kept the mosquitoes away, so
Zembia's little toy was not fully tested. Everyone had a good time, except for
Hong who was overhauling his engine.
|
 I think this would be better left without a caption |
 Before |
 After |
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Paul demonstrating why historians merely write about great
engineering projects instead of participating in them. |
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 Before |
I don't have an 'after' photo, but if I had it would show Steve in a sleeping bag by the fire - and no tent in sight. |
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Not to be outdone, Neil and Steve demonstrate why
engineers shouldn't participate in great engineering projects either. |
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There was some doubt whether Hong would be able to get back to pick up Doris and
Zembia who were supposed to be sleeping on the boat. Steve very generously
invited them to share his tent, then just for good measure he extended this
kind offer to include Louisa and
Sheren. Unfortunately he was unable to get it up. He
blamed the shifting sand for being unable to hold the tent pegs. Paul made a biblical
reference to building your house on sand (I thought it was the 3 little pigs
not the Bible, but there you go). Anyway the end result was that the 4 girls
were able to decline Steve's kind offer without hurting his feelings (which
was a disappointment to the rest of us, who had been looking forward to him
having his feelings hurt). It wasn't even Steve's tent, but one he borrowed from
Stuart Main, who some of you may remember. In fact it looks like the tent I used
to borrow from Stuart, which has the dubious distinction of never having survived
a dive camp intact. Fortunately Hong was able to collect Zembia
and Doris, which left Steve to sleep by the fire. The last time he did that he
ended up with third degree burns, but this time we didn't stoke the fire enough.
Well we brought it, so we're going to use it whether it's raining or not.
Morning arrived far too early and far too bright, as
it tends to on dive camps. Steve
apparently woke up with sand in every orifice, or
at least all the ones that he'd checked. For those of you who may
not own one, the Sherwood regulator keeps water out by using a positive pressure
first stage. This is why there is always a dribble of air coming from the first
stage while they are under water. Marc used a similar approach to keep the sand
and mosquitoes out with his positive pressure tent. Unfortunately Sheren failed
to appreciate the benefits, and just complained that he'd been farting all
night. Overnight Paul's tent had collapsed into a glorified sleeping
bag, which provided some amusement. Breakfast was a leisurely affair, and I was very
glad that we'd failed to find Marc's last coolbox full of beers, I
felt quite bad enough. Steve was
complaining of a carbon dioxide hit, and he had the classic headache
symptoms. Since he hadn't been diving, he must have been breathing in too many of
those little bubbles off the top of his beer. Marc pointed out the
clusters of trees on
the hills, which looked like armpit hair to hillsides.
Apparently the hills used to be covered in trees, so this gradual
balding was put down to their evolution. This
could well provide some material for the Club's world-renowned
bottomist, Clive Darwin, whose landmark study on the evolutionary links between
cuttlefish and trees we are privileged to have on the web-site at
www.scdc.org.hk/reports/misc/cuttle.html . (NB this is an extract from
his definitive study of the evolution of Hong Kong marine life -
"The Origin of Faeces".
At a time that would have horrified Brian, we packed
up and set off back to the junk. It was around now that something silly happened
- we listened to Steve. In his infinite / alcohol-induced wisdom (delete as
applicable), he suggested we swim back to the junk. He pointed out
that swimming 100 metres is part of the
qualification for Sports Diver. As a result, 2 first class divers, an
AI and 2 Dive Leaders need to redo a large
part of their qualifications. I don't know where he got the "100 metres" bit from, it was
at least a mile and a half, and to make matters worse most
of it was uphill. We left Tam to
bring an anchor back, which slowed him down a bit. Back on the junk Steve, Marc
and I collapsed into the seats to watch the rest of the morning's entertainment,
which was provided by Paul doing an impression of a tar baby. After he'd
liberally coated the decks with a black, gunky material, he unsuccessfully
tried to remove it from his feet with an industrial-strength solvent that
smelt like something we'd been drinking the night before. Of course we gave him
a hand, but he didn't seem to appreciate the applause.
It got a bit bumpy on the way back, as the wind had picked up quite a bit. Hong was
wearing a wet suit, which should have warned us.
In fact we hit a stretch of sea that was in desperate
need of resurfacing. I have not seen such an uneven, potholed area of sea before in Hong Kong.
I hope the Democratic Party will be blaming Mr. Tung for the poor state of repair of
the ocean at the next Legco Meeting. Meanwhile Steve was busy recommending that we
see "The Perfect Storm", where a bunch of people go out on a boat and don't come home.
Apparently the waves were very impressive and realistic - very reassuring. As for me, I was
busy learning the Cantonese for "Abandon Ship!", and wondering why all the rats were
climbing into the tender - which was itself half full of water (again). Marc felt
our problems started because we ate Babe, our unfortunate mascot. For the next
dive camp, he will be providing the roast albatross, which should leave us becalmed.
Paul of course is exempt from all blame as a vegetarian.
"You should watch 'The Perfect Storm' - they all drowned!"
Anyway we made it back into Tolo without mishap, thanks
to an excellent piece of driving by Captain Hong. Just in time for
Tam to crack open the bottle of wine he'd forgotten to drink the night before.
Nice shirt, Paul. A bit rough was it?
So ended yet another dive camp, and in this case the
emphasis was very much on the camping, rather than the diving - just as it should be
as it greatly simplifies the marshalling. It will be interesting to see whether Tam's
wife comes along next year.
