TekCamp Part #4 – Did you hear the one about the Englishman, The Irishman and the South African?

Day 4

The fourth day of TekCamp began with the standard routine. ‘The Breakfast Club’ gathered, discussed the plan for the day, then ventured down to Vobster for the mornings debrief and a day’s diving.

Over cups of tea the brief unfolded and we duly awaited our instructor for the day.

The names were rattled off and Martin declared; “By popular demand Rich Walker has ‘The Clarkes’ and Tara.”



An undecipherable source sharply stated; “That’s because no one else would take them.”


Charming.


In theory each day would bring a lesson from a different instructor, yet Tara, Kerri and I were standing, yet again, with Rich Walker; a clerical error perhaps?


Not exactly.


At the close of day 3 Kerri and I had decided TekCamp had been arranged solely for us, and it was critical to the event success that we were kept as happy as possible.

One of the things we hoped to get out of TekCamp was an improvement on our buoyancy and trim, Kerri’s trim in particular, which she had become quite obsessed with. Throughout day 3 we had been torturing Rich to help, but it was clear there just wasn’t enough time.

Not a reflection of our ability you understand, simply a time constraint… ahem. 


As a result we decided to keep him. 










We nabbed Martin and asked him if it was possible to stay with Rich for an additional day and forgo the rebreather or scooter try dives. It was a totally selfish and unreasonable request, but even still he managed to shuffle things around without upsetting anyone, excluding Rich perhaps, and gave us exactly what we wanted.

So, we binned the rebreathers and agreed to make Rich spend the entire next day working on our trim and buoyancy. Kerri explained what she wanted to achieve and Rich said he’d work out a plan. Tara wanted to improve her back kick, and I needed stage handling help.

We owned him, and he knew it…



Flash forward to day 4.



By the time we got our kit together Rich had his whiteboard set up with a huge list of the skills we would be undertaking.



I made a joke; “You know Kerri thinks you’ve been up all night calculating her trim problem!”

Rich nodded thoughtfully, “I have been thinking about it.”



Oh Jesus.



Rich really had been thinking hard about how we performed in the water and was convinced he knew what Kerri’s problem was. He explained what he would be doing with Kerri in water and how he was going to correct areas that needed fine tuning. 


It was quite frightening to watch his mind work. He had it absolutely nailed. Once we were in the water I witnessed him move Kerri about, stretch her legs, move her arms, add air, dump air, add air, dump air, it was boggling. I’m not usually fussed when another man interferes with my wife, more so when I’m not included, but she seemed happy, so I let it go.


Rich had an uncanny way of getting instructions across;

‘STOP – THINK – ACT.’

He was able to communicate this very effectively underwater with hand signals, which subsequently Kerri and I found very amusing and do it all the time now.




It certainly wasn’t an immediate fix, but it gave us a greater understanding of why we behaved the way we did underwater. It became apparent it was a combination of breathing, fining and a tendency to prefer negative buoyancy. How he was able to work that out from only a few hours in water, while doing reel work, the previous day is a testament to the level of instruction these guys have. It was very impressive.



The back kick was next on the list.



It seems that when a diver decides to move into the technical arena it is essential they learn to swim backwards. I know there are plenty of tech divers who survive without going backwards, but it is definitely a useful tool. I recall diving in Egypt and looking closely at a ‘Nemo fish’ and thinking; ‘Oh shit, i’m about to bump into that fire coral!’ If I had been able to fin backwards, just a little, I would have been safer in the water, and so would the reef. 


Paul Toomer had already spent time during day 1 working on my back kick, so I knew the technique and Rich told me it just needed polished a bit. I decided to take that as a huge compliment as before arriving at TekCamp I could barely struggle forwards.



The three of us lined up over the platform and were scrutinised as we attempted to fin backwards.



I was first. It was ok, then Rich gave a few directions; ‘STOP – THINK – ACT’ and I had another go. Big improvement – keep my head up was the way forward… or backwards… you know what I mean.

Kerri had a tendency to fin too quickly. Rich signalled, ‘STOP – THINK – ACT’ asking her to slow down and she began to creep back. Jeez, the guy was good.

Tara was up next.

What followed was probably best kept for tales around the campfire. What Tara managed to accomplish underwater was horrifying. It wasn’t forwards, or backwards… it was more like a sideways convulsion of some kind.

‘STOP – THINK – ACT’ was no good here.


Back on land Rich described it as ‘The Crinoid Manoeuvre’ and doubted he could re-create it.



No one needs to see that again mate.





However, with a little encouragement and some manipulation of the lower legs he did get her to move back eventually; impressive. The real question was could he keep her quiet?



S-Drills were an area that clearly needed some work. They were ok at best, until Tara and I conducted an out of gas scenario. 


Tara signalled out of air, and like a good buddy I donated my primary reg. I then stared down at my light cord immediately realising I had no clue as to where to move it. Tara watched eagerly awaiting my decision. I moved the cord over the long hose; she shook her head and helped me sort it out. It wasn’t going according to plan at all.

By this stage the two of us had become totally focussed on routing problems and our buoyancy control had completely collapsed. I think my ears finally gave me the good news.


Tara and I simultaneously decided we could talk, underwater, through a regulator, whilst sharing air and descending quite horribly into the gloom of a quarry.









Me: “hara - i - heed - ure - ahenhun” (Tara, I need your attention)

Tara: “ess” (yes)

Me: “ugh - oh - ear - inking?” (you know we’re sinking?)

Tara: “eye - oh” (I know)

Me: “ear - it” (we’re shit)


Tara: “eye - oh” (I know)


At that point Rich had obviously decided we needed a live demo of how an S-Drill should be done. He waved a hand, and as if by magic Jim Dowling appeared. I didn't even know he was there, it turned out he was our safety diver and had been lurking the entire dive. It was creepy. He slid in from the gloom, demonstrated a perfect drill with Rich then back kicked out of sight.

Another stealthy bastard.

We made another lame effort but as the dive hit 105 mins the ladies really needed a toilet break.

The exercise was binned and we retired for lunch, and proceeded to discuss pee valves. Delightful s



Over lunch Martin Robson gave a very sobering talk on You Are What You Breathe. It basically outlined the extreme importance of analysing your gas before diving. Kerri and I recoiled a little as we don’t own an analyser and it has since become a priority item for us, as we are a statistic waiting to happen.

It was especially sad as Martin had lost a close friend to carbon monoxide poisoning; something that I would never have considered a threat.



Cave diver extraordinaire Phil Short followed with a talk on CCR Design, Testing and Safety. This included looking into the design process and vital tests such as Canister duration and work of breathing. He also touched on introducing the concept of a true 'Sport/Recreational' rebreather to serve the mass recreational diving market safely.

I have to be honest I got caught up talking to the Apeks guys about their new drysuit, missed the beginning of Phil’s talk, and spent the remainder hiding until he finished in case he saw me; Dark Lord and all that.



Kerri attended, but fell asleep a bit and also spent the rest of the day in fear.



After lunch Rich produced ali 80’s and talked us through stage bottle set up, gas switching procedure, as well as how to rig a spool correctly. This included showing us his ‘woody;’ Tara, Kerri and I found this especially funny.



Yes, I am 34 years old, but funny’s funny.



‘Woody.’



Once in water boot camp returned and we conducted a million S-Drills, which were improving steadily, stage handling, gas switching, valve drills, smb deployment and ascents. I felt the day was going quite well, up until the smb bit.

We got the bags launched ok, but the ascents were a bit enthusiastic. The smbs ended up like a maypole and I recall just seeing Rich shaking his head as we floated off leaving him in the darkness below.

‘STOP – THINK – ACT’ that mate! 


It was a really fun day out and it was brilliant of Rich to tailor a class specifically for our needs.



After dinner we jumped back in Frieda to get back to the campsite in time for beer and the evening talk. I turned the ignition. Nothing. I tried again. Nothing. The van was dead.


‘Oh Frieda – what have you done?’



By this stage everyone had more or less gone, including John Kendall who possessed the only vehicle capable of towing our ageing motorhome up the hill. Undeterred I frantically beat the starter motor with a v-weight in the hope of un-sticking it, but to no avail.

I now have a 'w-shaped' v-weight.

Thankfully Tim from Vobster was still about and his trusty transit was able to give Frieda the bump start she needed; another fine display from the Vobster staff.



It was 8pm by the time we finally got back to camp. Kerri and I looked at each other; "Oh shit - we’re gonna miss Phil Short’s talk… again!"



We quickly grabbed beers and ran to the barn, hoping we could sneak in the back without being noticed. Just as we rounded the corner we practically bumped into Phil walking right towards us.

We slowed down and acted all casual like. 


He beamed; “Don’t panic guys, I haven’t started yet.”

Like rabbits in car headlights we managed, “Oh.. em… yes. We knew that… sir… I mean Phil…”

We then scarpered off to the barn laughing our heads off.



Phil Short gave an amazing recount of A Cave Diver Journey. He had some awesome photos and video to go along with his mental accounts of his experiences cave diving. It was soon apparent Phil refused to acknowledge fear, and his ability to problem solve under extreme pressure was mind blowing, if not terrifying. I still can’t decide if the man has something missing, or something extra.



As the talk progressed Paul Toomer and I had been enjoying the remaining Carlsberg from the cool bag. Upon its conclusion he turned to me and simply asked “Pub?”


That was a splendid idea and Paul quickly designated Howard Payne the honour of driving us.







Kerri looked perplexed as she and Trudy retired to the motor home for hot chocolate. Kerri is fully aware of my behaviour when inebriated, and the addition of Paul Toomer / Howard Payne to the mix didn’t bode well in her mind.


Oh, the irony.


A stunning hand brake turn brought Howard Payne’s Vectra to where we stood; Paul and I jumped in. I decided a seat belt was a wise option and fought to bring it home as we bounded down the country lane, hand braking yet again, around the first corner. I decided it was going to be a great night out.


As we roared into the pub car park Toomer spied Phil Short’s little Ford Fiesta van innocently resting on the gravel area.

Toomer exclaimed; “Hand brake turn mate! – Throw some dust up Shorty’s car!”

To watch grown men so easily led was phenomenal. By this stage I too was completely sucked into the shenanigans, and was consequently laughing my royal balls off in the back seat.





The manoeuvre was a superb display and Howard closed down the engine as the dust began to settle over Phil Shorts van.


Paul was still enjoying a can of Carslberg at this point;


Paul: “Hold on lads, - I’m still drinking this can”

Me: “Leave it under the wheel arch; finish it when we come out.”

Howard: “You pikey bastards!”



Literally as we were about to walk into the pub a figure loomed out of the settling dust.

“Who’s the driver?” he demanded in a clichéd Somerset accent.



Toomer and I quickly abandoned all loyalty pointing at Howard.



“Does this look like Brands Hatch?”



Paul later stated he was considering explaining to the man Brands Hatch wasn’t gravel, but thought better of it.



“I don’t think I want to serve you lot. In fact I don’t. You three are barred.”


Toomer reclaimed his can at the wheel arch, and the three of us laughed our way back to the campsite.




Did you hear the one about the Englishman, The Irishman and the South African? ….



That was the best pint I’ve never had and day 4 was most definitely over.

TekCamp Part #5 - What about a race?

TekCamp Part #3 – Rich Walker’s Human Centipede

Day 3


By Day 3 of TekCamp there was a definite routine forming. As per usual I awoke in Frieda (the motor home) to the sound of the kettle boiling and Kerri preparing breakfast.

That was fine. What I hadn’t realised was ‘The Breakfast Club’ had also become part of the morning ritual.


So, as my sleepy eyes began to focus I was told;

“Get up – Trudy and Tara can’t come in until you’re dressed.”

“Uh?”

This obviously led me to picturing myself semi naked with 3 women in a confined space; pleasant thought, but dutifully I pulled on some clothes so ‘The Breakfast Club’ could convene.

Once dressed, the van quickly filled with chatty women and I was handed Trudy’s new Turtle Fins while being kindly asked to put her new spring straps together as well. So I got to work while the women had breakfast.

I didn’t get breakfast. The new routine was crap.

Freida led the convoy down to Vobster just in time for Martin’s morning briefing.



Like a school assembly we sat patiently drinking tea, and I finally got a bacon sandwich down my neck, as the instructors were allocated their team for the day. Amongst the list Rich Walker was allocated ‘The Clarkes’ for the day, along with Tara.

It was now clear that Kerri and I had become a single entity; ‘The Clarkes.’

That was fine, but it also transpired to be amusing, as the announcement was met with a group chuckle from the remainder of TekCamp. Rich appeared bemused, then concerned as it was followed by the statement;

“Congratulations Rich – you’ve ended up with the 3 loudest people at TekCamp.”

Charming.


Before our collective had time to accost Rich, it was announced the whole camp would be conducting an experiment with Phil Short in the car park.

Initially I was concerned he was just going to challenge the rest of us to get past him; he is the Dark Lord after all, but it transpired we would be trying some breathing exercises.






Phil led us to the car park where an 18m length of cave line was tied between two cones and proceeded to demonstrate how breathing techniques improved how long you could hold your breath. It was quite bizarre.


Initially Phil raised his heart rate with a 60 second jog, held his breath and, as per Johnny Cash, walked the line, noting the distance he could travel before he fell unconscious… well, until he felt uncomfortable. The process was then repeated after rest, again noting the distance travelled. Finally Phil showed us a breathing exercise and had another go.

It was quite fascinating witnessing Phil walk further and further along the line having completed the 60 second deep breath exercise.



Demonstration completed, we were broken into groups, paired off with an instructor and given the opportunity to conduct the experiment ourselves.




We were quite close to Phil, so we nabbed him, and he talked us through the exercise. As per his example, at every stage of the drill we all walked further along the line, reaching our farthest having concluded the breathing exercise.

(c) Jason Brown :: BARDO creative

Disclaimer: I would like to point out that i was not eying up my fellow campers, merely looking for Kerri across the car park - honest!

Ultimately, this demonstrated controlling breathing at all times while diving would enable an out of gas diver swim to greater distances. 18m is the standard distance used on training courses for an out of gas emergency, and it was comforting to know it was possible to cover twice the distance after Phil’s breathing exercise.

Phil Short is Zen diver.


Kerri, Tara and I then proceeded to ruin Rich Walkers line laying class.


Rich introduced himself and explained we would be laying line for the morning session. I had spoken to Rich via email a bit and it was great to finally meet him in person. I also have an interest in GUE training so I was looking forward to learning from him.

We were shown primary ties, secondary ties, ordinary tie off’s and how to secure the reel at the end. Rich was very into his lovely Halcyon reel and talked us though all the aspects that made it such a wonderful, valuable tool.




Tara then announced she too had a beloved Halcyon reel.

“Great!” declared Rich.

“Go and get it.”

What Tara returned with was horrifying. It was a Frankenstein-bastard of a reel. It had a permanent bolt snap attached, a plastic bobble on the end of the line, barnacles on the casing and had possibly been used to hammer in tent pegs at least once in its life.

I thought Rich was going to go down.

We consoled our poor instructor, got his breathing back under control, assuring him;

“It’s ok Richard - we will send the reel home. Halcyon will make it all o-kay…”

A ‘dry run’ of line-laying was good fun, especially following the line with our eyes closed over bars and picnic tables; simulating loss of vis. Rich taught us touch contact communication and how to securely follow the line without being able to see; a valuable skill but not one I’d care to experience underwater inside a wreck.



Then it was time to do the same underwater. As we kitted up I noted on Rich’s whiteboard (he’s so efficient) the statement, ‘mask off following line. ‘


Holy shit.

I hate mask removals. I hate water up my nose. I hate the cold on my face. I hate water in my eyes. I hate Rich Walker and his fucking whiteboard.

I can do the removal skill; I don’t enjoy it very much, but I can do it. I don’t however pay £300 to have some GUE fella take my mask and make me swim up a bloody line. I really began to sweat. I had been telling Paul Toomer not 2 days previous how much I hated mask off stuff, I couldn’t believe what was about to happen.


I knew I was going to have to tell Rich how amazingly unhappy I was at the prospect. I told the ‘loud team’ about my concerns and finally admitted to Rich I wasn’t great with mask removal.

He was brilliant. He talked me through a few tips on breathing, explained if I didn’t want to do it at the time that was grand, and if I freaked out doing the skill all I had to do was put my hand up then a mask would amazingly appear.




Settled, I donned my kit and jumped in.

We reeled about, forgetting everything Rich taught us; catching the line on pieces of debris, cars, each other and the reel itself. This was a lot of fun, but quickly demonstrated how difficult it was to lay line properly and efficiently.

Then it was time.

The loud team lined up, fingers firmly hooked on the line in preparation for the simulated zero visibility – i.e. I was losing my mask.

Working his way down the line Rich gently tapped the mask of each diver. Tara handed over her mask. Kerri handed over her mask. Rich tapped the lens in front of my face. I stared at him. I knew my team were floating in complete darkness, with no masks, clinging to the line. I had to decide. Rich hovered closely in front of me. It wasn’t fair on my team to leave them hanging; I had to decide.

I ripped my mask from my face. The cold water rushed against my skin. Water trickled up my nose.

…

...

I did what Rich instructed; applied positive pressure to my nose and breathed through my mouth, nice and slow.

I was fine. I was definitely fine. I was doing it and not going bananas.

Jurassic Park!

The three of us were in close proximity to each other to allow communication through constant arm squeezes. I finally remembered I was in last place and it was my job to move the team. I gave Kerri two squeezes which sent the message up the chain to progress down the line. I could feel Kerri moving off and I pockled after her.

Diving with no mask, in constant contact with a line, holding another diver by the arm and maintaining even reasonable buoyancy is nigh impossible. Very funny though.

I was quite at ease now with no mask, and even managed a slight chuckle picturing how it must have looked to Rich fining along beside, as Kerri later dubbed, “The Human Centipede.”



For those who aren’t familiar, “The Human Centipede” is a b-movie horror movie about a crazy ex-Nazi scientist who surgically sews three unsuspecting victims together; mouth to butt and so on, forming a human centipede. It’s an awesome film. Honest.

My team of three, at that point, were now floundering along the floor of Vobster almost atop of one another making us “The Human Centipede,” and therefore Rich a mad Nazi scientist with a thirst for creating abominations of nature, hence the whiteboard.



Kerri was the middle section. Poor Kerri.

20 mins later we had our masks returned and moved once again to the beginning of the line. I was designated out of gas and Kerri donated her long hose while we all maintained contact with the line. It was then ‘switch to blacked out mask’ time which we had stowed in our pockets.

We began switching our masks, but the tape had fallen off mine so I didn’t have a blacked out mask. I thought that was fine, I’ll just do it with eyes open – great!

Rich gently tapped the lens of my mask.


Oh you twisted bastard.


No mask was becoming part of the routine.

Dutifully I lost my mask again, whilst sharing air, whilst maintaining contact with a line, whilst keeping touch contact with my team. I was actually quite happy with the skill now. I was the mid-section of the centipede and with Tara in front and Kerri behind I felt quite secure.


We completed the task, I got a mask back and we ascended. Nearly 90 mins spent in the water and I had my mask off for about half of it. I rock.

I now have absolutely no fear of mask removal, which was a big thing for me to finally get over. As a technical diver I felt it was something I should be comfortable with. Rich explained I did a fantastic job and congratulated me accordingly.

Too bloody right mate, I’m a fucking superstar.

After lunch we were treated to a talk from Mark Powell. Mark had just got back from Sri Lanka where he had been diving HMS Hermes, the world's first custom built aircraft carrier. The 170m long wreck is intact and lies in 53m of water. Mark led the first ever liveaboard expedition to dive the wreck using a combination of open circuit and rebreathers. It was an excellent talk and gave me a new reason to become trimix certified. (cue sales pitch from Paul Toomer…)



Crazy Jim Dowling (Jim Downling Technical Instructor) was up next describing the Deep Caves of Ras Mohamed. I knew the guy was a technical diving instructor by that stage, as I had spoken him quite a bit, but I had no idea he was an explorer and pioneer. He and his team have ventured 100’s of meters into unknown territory on open circuit to map out the cave systems of Ras Mohamed. It was an excellent talk with some brilliant photos and even some video footage.

Triple back mounted 20 litre cylinders you say? Dead on mate - let me know how you get on with that.



Lunch done our little GUE team headed back to check the whiteboard to see what we would be doing on the afternoon dive. Technical Rescue was on the list and we would be working alongside John Kendall and his students.



The dive consisted of buddy rescue whilst wearing twinsets and a stage bottle. It was difficult, but I really enjoyed the challenge of maintaining buoyancy and trim whilst carrying a dead team mate. The point of the exercise was that you may have to rescue a diver from a wreck or cave where maintaining control was paramount. If I ever have that problem, I’ll just go and get Rich.

The routine debrief, BBQ, back to the campsite for beer and talks followed.

Richie Stevenson and Martin Robson provide a fascinating insight into the logistics and procedures that form the foundations of Expedition Planning. Richie looked at deep wreck exploration whilst acclaimed cave explorer Martin Robson approached the subject from a slightly different angle with an overview of what was involved in the planning and execution of an expedition to explore a virgin cave system in a remote location.



Both talks were excellent, again with some brilliant photos from their adventures. I especially enjoyed Martin Robson drinking red wine in a decompression habitat.

Throughout the talks I had been enjoying the Carlsberg, slipping the odd can to Jim Dowling, who I felt, had earned it for his talk earlier in the day. It also seemed quite rude not to have a few more afterwards. Everyone was really getting to know one another and it was great fun chatting to other enthusiastic divers. I enjoyed a couple more beers, pestering Paul Toomer and Mark Powell mostly; it was rather entertaining.

Kerri and Trudy began a new routine of heading back to the motor home for hot chocolate instead.

Hot chocolate over beer? - Uh?



An hour later the bag of beer and I retired to get some much needed sleep in preparation for Day 4.


I liked the routine.

TekCamp Part #4 - Fancy a pint?

TekCamp Part #2 – Wax on wax off: don’t fear the Triangles Mark Powell

Day 2

As soon as I woke in the motorhome on Tuesday morning it was clear I had drunk a few too many of the 60 Carlsberg. Well done me. However it didn’t take long for the excitement to kick back in and with the kettle whistling, it was clearly time to get up.


Within minutes of the kettle boiling Tara (the crazy Canadian) appeared at the open door with a stupidly huge travel mug begging for the remaining hot water. When I say begging, I mean hanging around long enough for me to finally switch on my ‘polite gene’ and actually offer the girl some water.

The hot water subsequently led to a tea bag, the tea bag led to some sugar, and the sugar led to some milk. In conclusion she took all the tea and joined us on the comfy seats for breakfast. Trudy (with the unwritten camping rules) followed shortly, but she brought her own breakfast and was welcomed accordingly.

As a result the camper was quite full and our German neighbour, upon waking, merely got a wave that morning - but no tea; such a polite man to be treated so poorly.



And so ‘The Breakfast Club’ was born.



The club was adjourned, we sparked up our engines and all headed down for Day 2 of TekCamp, pondering what the day had in store.

Martin delivered his morning debrief as we enjoyed a tea, and then passed us off to our instructors for the day. Kerri and I would be joining the decompression legend Mark Powell for the day. This was great news and we were both really looking forward to meeting him.

In hindsight Kerri and I have decided we were a bit star struck. In my mind Mark Powell is featured more than most in magazines etc. I have also read many of his articles and interviews, not to mention he is the renowned author of “Deco for Divers.”

Nevertheless it didn’t stop us bounding over to him with hands outstretched to torture the man.








Introductions all done Mark explained we would be concentrating on stage handling and buoyancy control, with the aid of visual references. This was fine by us; I definitely needed more experience with a deco bottle for my future planned dives in Malin, and my buoyancy can be … ‘wobbly.’

We were briefed on the finer points of stage marking and rigging. We were then joined by safety diver ‘Finn’ who kindly donated an ali7 stage bottle as I didn’t have one of my own.



Once in the water we retrieved our stages, clipped them off and descended down the shot line to one of the platforms. It was clear that I wasn’t really switched on. My descent was crap and if the S-Drill was for real I would be a widow. This would be devastating for the cat army at home, as I often forget to feed them, plus I’m not totally convinced Kerri’s life insurance covers her for tech diving.

So, with the prospect of me and the cat army living in a squat spinning in my head, we finally made it onto the platform.


Mark then set to work balancing out our trim and position in the water. This was quite fascinating. It was soon clear that by manipulating the position of my arms in the water I could counter balance the weight of the stage and stop the ‘wobbly’ effect whilst holding still. As Mr Powell was moving my hands around I couldn’t help envisage the ‘wax on – wax off’ scene from The Karate Kid. If you are too young or too old to remember this timeless 80’s classic; you are missing out, it’s a cracker.




The 'wax on – wax off' approach definitely did things to my trim and I quite enjoyed messing around with my position in the water. I contemplated signalling to Mark that he was ‘Mr Miyagi’ from The Karate Kid, but I couldn't think of the hand gestures.

Wax on - Wax off!

(c) copyright Jason Brown :: BARDO creative


As I had now completely switched off to the further instruction I was being given, I became a little stressed when it came to passing the stage cylinders around. My perfect still position was now faltering and I was fining about a little more than necessary.

Mark was pointing to his eyes, then to the wall, then to his eyes, then to the platform, then to his eyes, then to Kerri. At this point my poor mind caved in and all I could think of were triangles. I found out in the de-brief he wanted me to use the things he was pointing at as a visual reference.


Ah…


An hour had passed, we had done quite well and Mark thumbed the dive. I was pleased I understood him at last.

Lunch came and went and I enjoyed another finely cooked cheese burger, which would become a constant in my life for the duration of TekCamp. You can’t go wrong with a burger – diving food.

Howard Payne presented his talk: Dive and Survive, or as he eloquently put it; ‘stay out of the poo in the blue.’ This was a stimulating talk as it was something every diver could really associate with, reverberating a theme we all knew too well.



GUE instructor John Kendell then proceeded to educate us with a presentation featuring the work of the WKPP: Woodville Karst Plains Project. This was another crazy cave diving thing (does no-one dive in the sea anymore?) that scared the life out of me. John was a support diver for the world record breaking traverse from Turner Sink to Wakulla Spring. The dive itself sounded hectic, but John’s role was both difficult and critical to the success of the dive. It was a great talk.



Kerri and I then met up with Mark for our next debrief. Fellow Tekcamper Nicky (Diving Fundamentals) also joined us on the dive for some further stage handling madness. A more controlled ascent and improved S-Drill made for a decent start to the dive. Then all of a sudden Kerri stopped midway suffering an equalisation problem. Finn escorted Kerri to the surface demonstrating an “excellent ascent,” in his words, and she headed onto dry land for a tea. Clever girl.

This left only Nicky and I to conduct the skill circuit. Nicky was obviously no stranger to stage bottles and was more than competent in the water. I on the other hand, struggled. I just couldn’t get it together and ended up doing laps of Vobster losing the ability to stop fining. It was very frustrating. To make matters worse, once the dive ended my ascent was atrocious. What was going on? The day before I was a diving god and at that point I was barely able to stay still.


Darts. I should take up darts.


Shortly after as I continued to concentrate on dropping stage bottles I thought I heard a noise. 


The internal monologue followed:

Bong! ! !


  • What the fuck was that?


Bong! ! !


  • Jesus Christ. I’ve lost it. Mark Powell has sent me over the edge.


Bong! ! !


  • What the hell am i banging into?


Bong! ! !


  • Oh dear God, I’m narced out at 6m. I bet this is in his bloody book? I knew I should have bought it earlier.


Bong! ! !


  • I'm hearing bells… it’s the triangles … they’re ... they're ringing …





It turned out Mark, the stealthy bastard, had clipped off an Ali 80 to my butt ring and it was banging on my twinset. Stealthy bastard.




I hadn’t felt a thing.

That was one to the Welsh man.







Once we surfaced Mark could clearly see I was less than impressed with my performance with the stage bottle and suggested another weight check was in order. It appeared with only 70 bar in my twinset I could be a little light. We drained the tanks down to 30 bar and attempted a descent.

I almost held it at 2m with a little assistance, but couldn’t quite manage it. Another 1kg was in order.

It was excellent to complete a thorough weight check with an instructor like Mark, as I now have a proper benchmark for what is too light and just right. I put on a 2Kg tail weight and all was well with the world. Happy diver.

As I exited the water I met Paul Toomer who asked how I got on. I explained I was a bit frustrated with my performance on the day. He was brilliant. We both stood at the exit as he explained how a poor night’s sleep, a few beers, poor concentration could ruin even his next day’s diving and to simply write it off.

That worked for me and my mood improved.

Later that night I had a chat with Mark about it, as he signed my log book, he said I was being much too hard on myself and to relax a bit. Good enough for me.



Back on shore I regrouped with Kerri who had been receiving medicine from Howard Payne for her ear condition. This worried me greatly. Howard and Rohypnol go hand in hand. She was in good form and her ear seemed to be recovering from a slight blockage.


Another BBQ done we found ourselves back in the campsite grabbing a few more beers for the evening talk.


Rich Walker was the speaker on the evening talk presenting Wreck Diving in Norway. Rich has dived on many of the wrecks from Bergen, Sognefjord, Ålesund and as far North as Narvik, 200km into the Arctic circle. Many of these wrecks have significant histories, from being part of Hitlers Operation Weserubung, the code name for the German invasion of Norway in 1940, or part of the general losses of the war.



It was a fascinating talk and he had some truly magnificent photographs of the wrecks he had dived. This was my type of diving; a very engaging presentation.

Afterwards Kerri and I opted for an early night which was great as it stopped me from drinking the rest of the beer.


Day 2 done.

Day 3 - Rich Walker's Human Centipede

TekCamp Part #1 – The Long Way Round to meeting Paul Toomer

Day T-1

TekCamp had finally arrived … well sort of.


It was 4.30am on the Sunday, the motorhome was loaded with twinsets, kit, food and 60 cans of Carlsberg; what could possibly be more right with that picture?

Kerri and I fired up “Frieda” the 22 year old camper and headed to the ferry terminal in hope of reaching TekCamp before Monday morning at least.


I appreciate logistically there are more efficient routes to Somerset from Belfast, but ferry timetables and financial constraints dictated the ‘Long Way Round,’ all we were missing was Ewan McGregor or Charlie Boorman. In hindsight a support team would have been appreciated in the days to come, but more on that later.

The crossing was only 3 hours; we docked quickly and hit the shores of Scotland at 10.30am. It was here that Kerri and I made out first navigational error, in that we followed the sat nav. Sat navs are lying bastards. We turned right rather than left and took a ridiculously long ‘scenic route’ through the hills of Stranraer. It was pretty, and I am sure my parents would have enjoyed the views, but all we wanted to do was get to TekCamp and not strain the grossly underpowered van any more than was absolutely necessary.



The 389 mile 11.5 hour journey was hard work. Traffic congestion was horrendous. How can such a big motorway come to a complete standstill, and then just start moving again? Thankfully we had AC/DC blaring through the speakers and we both settled for singing different variations of “aye-e-eye-e-yo - Shake Your Foundations.”






We may have amused other motorists in the queue rather than just ourselves.




The day light faded to black, the roads became narrower but finally the lying bastard got us to the campsite. We arrived to find a handful of tents already pitched, but no sign of life, so i opted for a quick beer to wind down a bit.



2 mins later a car pulled in with German registration plates and the steering wheel on the wrong side. It was Richard Roethe from Diverscorner blog. The nutter had driven more than twice the distance we had, departing from Dresden, and arrived at the same time; bloody German efficiency.

We had a short chat while Kerri prepared some pasta then Richard built his tent. Kerri and I had dinner; Richard retired to his nylon palace until morning.

Sleep was sporadic at best.



Day 1


The morning came quickly with excitement waking the campsite early. Richard joined us for tea in Frieda; a fatal flaw by us as it was now clear to the rest of the camp that we had boiling water…

We soon met a few of the other campers; Tara (a crazy Canadian), Trudy (the woman with the unwritten rules) and John (so polite i'm surprised he survied). They were all very friendly, equally excited, and curious as to what the day would bring. Collectively we started up the wagons and headed to Vobster Quay convoy style for our first proper day of TekCamp!

Driving into Vobster was amazing.



The car park was filling up nicely and the rather splendid TekCamp banners were everywhere. I found it strange, at nearly 35 years old to be so excited, but I really couldn’t wait to meet the instructors, other divers and get into the water to do some diving. Kerri and I were beside ourselves with excitement, it was all I could do not to blast the horn as AC/DC continued to blare from the speakers.




We parked Frieda and headed over to the seated area by the quarry for our first TekCamp briefing from Martin Stanton; the brains behind the operation. Every morning Martin gave a very concise roster of that would be happening that day and who we would be with, at the same time I gave a little chuckle as he reminded me so much of Rik Mayall’s character from ‘The New Statesman.’ Totally unfounded, but amused me to no end.




As the briefing continued Wife-buddy and I were allocated Paul V Toomer for the day. This was fabulous news. We had already requested Paul as an instructor and were thrilled that he was our introduction to TekCamp. Within 5 mins of meeting Paul it was clear we were going to get along famously with the tattooed South African.




Despite being there to learn stuff, I don’t think we stopped laughing all day. To meet an instructor of his calibre was amazing, yet after only an hour the banter was really starting to flow.


We also got to meet ‘Jim the safety diver.’ Jim was great craic too; he had flown over from Egypt to attend TekCamp and is a pioneer in his own right, delving into the madness of cave exploration. More on that later.


Out first dive was a weight check, in which i lost all the weight I had on, then onto propulsion techniques. We were shown how to frog kick correctly, hover, back kick (a bit) and how to use our dry suit for buoyancy. Using the suit for buoyancy was a unique experience. I didn’t touch my wing inflator all day, and being correctly weighted I found once the squeeze was taken off the suit I was 100% neutral in the water. It was an amazing feeling and I had a great dive enjoying the control.

photo (c) copyright Jason Brown
BARDO creative




Half way through the dive Paul also decided to interfere with Kerri. He took away 2kg from her pouch initially and then went back for the rest. In total we lost 6kg between us. Frightening to think we carried so much additional weight, but not as frightening as watching a swarthy, tattooed South African fiddle around your wife’s crotch.










Over lunch we had a de-brief discussing what we would be doing in our afternoon session. Paul was pleased enough with our ability, offering constructive advice on the back kick which we had yet to perfect. It is a difficult manoeuvre, which undoubtedly takes time to become proficient. Personally I was still adjusting to the ‘neutral bouyancy’ thing. I constantly felt I was going to float off, but never did; it was so bizarre.


After lunch we were treated to the first set of talks.


Our new friend Mr Paul Toomer gave a talk on Into To Technical Diving giving an interesting insight into what makes a diver move into tech diving. The conclusion was that there should be more women tech divers – I don’t have a problem sharing a car park with lots of women getting changed at a dive site; so i’m with you mate.




Next up was Rich Walker from Global Underwater Explorers explaining Project Baseline. It was an excellent presentation and really made me think about conducting a small project myself on our local dive site. It seemed to spark off a new enthusiasm for sites that were dived regularly and would give a new purpose to my diving.


Duncan Price from The Cave Diving Group then proceeded to horrify me as he described cave exploration in Wookey Hole. To be honest I have no interest in caves, certainly not ones of that nature, and wasn’t going to attend the talk. However I quickly became enthralled with the project and filled with amazement at what the man had achieved. Don’t get me wrong, the poor man obviously lacks the ability to be afraid, and was only compounded when he demonstrated his homemade sidemount rebreather unit, which had an uncanny resemblance to a Dyson hoover. Fascinating.



With the talks all done we regrouped with Tall Poomer (he’s a big fella) and discussed our next dive plan further. Campsite buddy Linda joined us for the next dive and we wandered into the green for some more fining and advanced stage handling.

My backwards fining was coming along nicely now. I appreciate my definition of backwards may be different to most, but I wasn’t going forwards as fast anyway.

We levelled over one of the platforms and Paul unclipped his ali80 stage and fired it over to me like a submarine rocket; he appeared to be enjoying the neutral characteristics of the bottle.

That was one to the big man.

I caught it (just) and finally managed to clip it off to my harness, then I sent it over to Kerri and she repeated the rotation until the stage ended up with Linda. I have never really been great with stage handling so I enjoyed the practice. Kerri is much better and it was apparent Linda was very comfortable as she clipped it off almost immediately.

Up’staged’ by 2 girls.

After an hour the boss man ended the dive and gave the signal to send up a dsmb. I enjoyed the skill and got my bag up no probs – the power of Halcyon!

Kerri had apparently ‘forgotten’ her Frog (poor Halcyon rip off) dsmb and didn’t send one up. I knew her game. The Frog dsmb is shit, and almost impossible to inflate in the water without minor dental surgery afterwards. I suspected she may have ‘forgotten’ it was in her pocket the whole time – but who am I to judge?

I shopped her later to Mark Powell.

A controlled ascent followed and we re-grouped on the surface. It was a fantastic end to the days diving and we both had an absolute blast with Paul. It was amazing to dive with him and the man is truly excellent in the water.

photo (c) copyright Jason Brown - BARDO creative


A BBQ dinner was ready by the time we got our kit off and completed our de-brief. The consensus was we were all great. Well, more or less. After dinner we left our tanks in for a fill of 32% and roared up the hill in Frieda to the campsite.

Upon arrival I took care of the essentials, i.e. I filled a cool bag with beer and headed to the barn to enjoy Mark Powell give an Introduction To Decompression Theory talk.

I figured I would need at least 10 tins to make sense of that madness. It was fascinating, and within 45mins I fully understood how the different decompression algorithms compared, including the rather confusing “gradient factors.” Mark also proved to be the most important speaker of the week as he was the only one to get a microphone, or perhaps because he’s small… who knows?



Once the talks were done more beers followed and we began to mingle among the important people. For fear of making a complete twat of myself on the first day by 11pm, Kerri and I opted for bed, and to be honest with the excitement finally fading I was bloody exhausted.

Day one had been and gone, and what a day it was. I had dived with one of the top dive instructors in the world, listened to the leading man on decompression theory and then enjoyed a beer with them.

TekCamp was proving to be more fun than expected and it had only begun…


Proceed to DAY 2 - Mark Powell, The Karate Kid and ... the triangles..