CUUEG and CUUEX
Cape Wrath
1-4 June 2000

Trip Report by Sam Cockerill

The Divers:

The Dives

Each time we return to Andy's house, I am struck by the logistical remoteness of the place. Even after our night-long train ride on the curiously named Caledonian "Sleeper", we are a hire car and a 2 hour drive from the distant shores of Loch Inchard. This idea affected each of us in subtly different ways, but as we stood in the car-park of Inverness Safeway ripping hunks out of loaves of bread for lunch and grunting I wondered if we were taking this Lord-of- the-Flies savagery thing a bit far. In practice, recent improvements in the highlands GSM network coverage and Andy's valiant DIY efforts provided us with both comfort and contact, and John seemed positively crestfallen through his face-paint when I called home from the RIB in Loch Clash.

Loch Inchard

Our first 2 dives of the weekend took us out into the mouth of Loch Inchard, in the lee of a small island group. Here, the modest surge is settled and beneath the surface is almost imperceptible. Close in to the shore, the kelp forms a dense canopy over the jagged rocky fissures and as we slide down and through part of me expects to come face to face with the seal we startled off the rocks with our arrival. If he is watching us, he's being wary though, and we continue out into a rocky plateau with only swimming crabs and brittlestar for company.

We dive in Loch Inchard again on Sunday, exploring a shallow wreck on the south shore which turned up a mix of both non-descript original artefacts and more recent hydraulic lifting gear, possibly tangled on the earlier wreckage or lost from a dredger. Several pipes strewn over the area provide perfect packaging for Conga eels, though Guy and Phil cannot persuade their find to emerge for full view. Brittlestar are everywhere, feeding arms stretched upwards in a way reminiscent of the little green aliens in Toy Story 2 worshipping the arrival of the claw. I attempt to convey this observation to John, who gives me the concerned look of a medical professional who believes he will soon have to administer a sedative.

Droman

On the second day we drove down to Droman pier while Nick and Guy motored around to meet us on the RIB. Anchoring in a sheltered inlet, we make a leisurely descent out towards the sea. On a stalk of kelp we see 50 or so small white fingers which concensus later deems to be squid eggs. Nick and I find little in the way of fish life, though Andy and Sally spot a sizeable octopus on patrol at 20m. Squat lobster vie for space in every crack, their bright blue and red shells lighting up like peacock feathers in my torch's beam. Looking up, dappled light of the surface is still quite visible from 22m. On our second dive we find a small lobster, though being undersize and with a claw missing he escapes the dinner table by some margin.

Loch Laxford

At first we beat out of the loch entrance and south round the corner in fairly substantial swell. This has stirred the viz up, and though the cove we choose is  locally quite sheltered, there is plenty of debris suspended in patches and hovering above the seabed. The creates the disorienting illusion of stillness, whilst occasional protruding rock features race back and forth with the surge.

Our second dive is back in the shelter of the Loch and with a purpose. After being frustrated in this year's quest for lobster and crayfish, we return to the site of a more reliable dinner guest - Scallops! Though the sandy bed is broken by boulders, rocky slabs and kelp, there are enough to engage us throughout our dive. On the seabed and part buried, these creatures sit motionless and almost invisible but for a pattern of sand formed by their feeding circulation. Yet on sensing our approach, the best response a hundred million years of evolution has equipped them with is to launch into a hap-hazard pulsing swim which advertises their presence, cleans off the sand and adds a bit of comedy chase-scene potential.

As we prepare to ascend with our haul, we spot a pair of crooked eyes poking out of a flat sandy area. This flounder's defensive response, lying hopefully motionless, also makes for an easy target and he soon joins the scallops in John's goody bag. It's not until we land this lot on the boat that we realise the flounder is still twitching. After a couple of well intentioned but sadly ineffective incisions, neanderthal impulses take over. In a scene which haunts me to this day, Guy despatches the creature with his bare hands and hurls the head hand-grenade style over the side of the boat into Andy and Nick's bubbles. Dissenting thoughts of vegetarianism were dispelled that evening by a soothing balm of garlic, butter, white whine and two pints of cream..

Loch Clash

Following several false starts, Guy's video camera housing, a small and patently under-designed and over-priced polycarbonate plastic box with an o-ring, received the all clear on our final day. After completing a dive with a cargo of a sock and several tissues without mishap, the various superglue repairs  holding the case together were deemed sufficiently robust to be trusted with the tiny JVC camcorder it was originally designed for. The resulting macro footage of a lumpfish and conga eel, and action shots from our pounding RIB rides back into Kinlochbervie was universally acclaimed, and once we find a way to edit out the polystyrene-smashing gladiator re-enactment and space-hopper race episodes, should make a fine promotional video.