When the driver saw the amount of luggage we had, he immediately rattled off a stream of Egyptian, which from his tone sounded very much like some serious expletives. Nonetheless he and his assistants set to work loading as much of our precious equipment onto the space provided on the vehicles roof rack and under every seat. Every time we tried to assist them by loading something ourselves they would get very upset and tell us to be patient. After watching our generously proportioned driver clamber about the roof of his vehicle and tie the luggage down with a very, very long piece of rope, we all squeezed in, and, with much apologies for the size of the bus and a number of urgent mobile phone calls by our guide, we set off for the pyramids.
The only problem, which our guide explained to us, was that we were too early. He wanted to know if we would like to go to a coffee shop or something before we went, thus allowing his company time to organise a much bigger bus for the rest of our journey. So, between the airport and the pyramids we had a quick stop in at an authentic Egyptian coffee shop, a welcome switch to a bigger green bus and a brief tour of the impressive tomb of Anwar al-Sadat. Sadat was president of Egypt during the 70’s, the man who eventually signed a peace treaty with Israel in 1979 and as a result was awarded the Nobel Prize for peace. I gathered from our guide that Sadat is still a much-revered person in Egypt. The owners of the coffee shop kept offering us ‘shish a’ pipes which, much to their apparent annoyance, we kept refusing. I say ‘apparent annoyance’ because as we were leaving I saw a number of the men grinning quite widely. No doubt happy with the tip we’d left so early in the morning.
The bit of Cairo we saw, even before the real rush hour (if such a thing exists in Cairo) looked a bit the worse for wear, even if one considers that it is one of the oldest cities in the world. For example the roads, although tarred, seemed very narrow and in places pretty badly pot-holed. The buildings were generally not painted, although one could see that this depended on which area of the city you were in. Also, many, if not most buildings had metal reinforcing rods sticking out of the roof. This was a really strange thing to see all these not quite finished buildings with a forest of satellite dishes on top. Turns out this was quite normal for Egypt because, among other reasons, home owners are charged higher municipal rates if their houses are actually completed.
It seems that newly-weds will often build a single room on top of one or the other parents’ homes, thus keeping costs down and the extended family together. As we drove through Cairo, we were amazed to hear from our guide that we were passing an extensive and very old cemetery on our right hand side. This cemetery is unique because not only is it occupied by the recently and not so recently departed. The majority of the occupants are as alive as you or I. It seems that students and poorer people build very small brick houses on top of the ancient graves and the cemetery today has electric light and water provided by the city. I have to stress I was told this by our guide and did not see inside it for myself. You can decide for yourselves how much of the story is true. The ride from Cairo to Dahab was an experience in itself. We soon found out that the drivers do not indicate to overtake as we might do, rather they just hoot their horns and it’s sort of expected that the vehicle in front, which is obviously going too slowly, will move out of the way. I also understood that the official side of the road is the right hand side. Even so it seemed to me that almost all the drivers would drive anywhere, so long as no other vehicle was actually in the way. This is particularly true of the more rural areas, where it seemed to those of us who were watching that the drivers sort of took ‘the racing line’ through curves and simply drove on which-ever side of the road had more tar or less bumps in. Unless of course another vehicle was approaching, in which case each vehicle would move over to the ‘right side’ - at least until they had squeezed past each other by about a hair’s breadth. After about an hour’s driving we came to a tunnel which our guide told us went under the Suez Canal. I fully expected it to be a fairly long tunnel. But after only about five minutes we emerged back into sunlight. Thus it was that I found out how narrow the Suez canal actually is.
Reunion at Planet Divers Hotel
We arrived in Dahab around six pm, late on the 29th June to a tumultuous greeting from everyone at Planet Divers, all of whom had very fond memories of last years’ trip and were obviously very happy to see Nuno and the team again. There was Mohamed, Aymed, Nevine, and ‘Junior’. One thing that this trip confirmed for me is that first impressions can be a little misleading. Nevine Abd El Gheny for example came across as a self-assured, efficient dare I say modern young woman, who spoke English very well and obviously commanded some respect among the hotel staff. I put her down as Polish. Given that I saw only very few Egyptian woman during our whole time there, imagine my surprise when I later learned she was in fact Egyptian. Another surprise was ‘Junior’ whom I thought was Egyptian, mainly due to his heavy accent and I guess his general appearance. I later learned that his name is actually Krzysztof Hrynczyszn, much more likely to be a Polish name than Egyptian don’t you think? He is not quite six foot tall, but built like a professional rugby player, solid muscle from head to foot and almost bald, which made him look like a tough guy out of some movie. I got to chat with him from time to time and it turned out he was Polish and a very nice chap indeed. ‘Junior’ is the man at Planet Divers who is responsible for the gas blending, so a very responsible position indeed. In fact he takes it so seriously that he will often blend into the early hours of the morning. Knowing that blending Trimix in extreme temperatures is next to impossible, I was really impressed with his dedication to his task. I did offer to help him with the blending, but, not unexpectedly, he declined my offer. I must say that when we are doing this type of sensitive work, too many cooks could cause a life-threatening problem for a diver. I prefer to work with two or three people at most. The rest tend to get in the way. A part of me was also very glad to have someone else doing all the work for a change. All we had to do was analyse and label all the cylinders once the correct gas was put in them.
‘Junior’ with a sample of the cylinders of Trimix, Nitrox and oxygen he filled for Nuno’s record dive
My first dive in the Red Sea
The day after our arrival at Planet Divers we all assembled in the dive centre and began choosing our cylinders and configuring our equipment for the serious business of diving deeper than anybody ever had on scuba before. Lucky for me they had a number of sets of twin fifteen litre cylinders, which is what I dive with back home. Of course we would have liked our own sets from back home but given that we had so much weight to transport already and aside from Nuno’s unusual eighteen litres tanks, cylinders are a relatively standard item world-wide, we’d decided to use those that Planet Divers could supply us with. So it was just a matter of fitting my twin ‘Nuno Gomes/TripleL’ wings onto the tanks. Every one of the Planet Divers’ staff went out of their way to accommodate each diver’s particular quirks. Junior even told me that he knows every tech diver has his own way of configuring stages or setting his regulators just so for himself.
Anyway, that afternoon we loaded our twin sets onto two small trolleys and pushed them through the hotel lobby, out the front door and about 50 metres to the edge of the sea. The ocean was almost flat, and we simply walked into the sea. Not at all what I’m used to in Sodwana on the coast of South Africa, where shore dives are really the exception and rough surf launches the norm.
The moment I dipped my head beneath the surface I knew I was going to enjoy diving here. But then again, which diver wouldn’t? The water is clear, blue and warm. The reefs are mostly sheltered from the power of the ocean swells and currents, and simply bloom with colour and life. The spot we were diving is called Light-House Reef. It was literally right outside the hotel. We headed down a steeply sloping shoreline to about thirty five metres. Almost immediately we saw a sea turtle. At first it didn’t seem to notice us, and went on about its business. Unfortunately as we got within a few metres of it, it seemed to
look up at the group of noisy visitors to its world and then with a few slow, methodical sweeps of its flippers it headed off in a seaward direction. I was a little surprised that we saw so few fish below twenty metres. Luckily that was temporary, as we got back above twenty metres the fish life exploded, about a million small fish of every colour and shape darted around us. I can recall that I saw Trigger fish, Angel fish, Lion fish and zillions of Goldies. Pieter spotted a strange looking fish that looked like a relic from another time. It was a poisonous Scorpion fish, and given its fearsome reputation for causing those unfortunate enough to be spiked by poisonous spines excruciating pain, we all gave it a wide berth. Our total dive time was an hour and twenty minutes, but no one complained about the long decompression. On the contrary we couldn’t wait to get back into the sea.
After the dive we had some time to relax and I found myself thinking about the coral reefs of the world, their vital role as the nurseries of the ocean and as such vital to the ecology of the entire earth. Every time I dive a reef I’m reminded that the more we damage these ever so fragile forms of life, the less chance we have of surviving as a species ourselves. This whole trip was no exception. I believe it was Captain Jacques Cousteau who said that all divers are ambassadors for the reefs.
The next day the three member film crew arrived from Sharm-el-Shaikh. Valentina Cucchiara was the primary videographer, an outgoing lady from Rome in Italy. With ten years of diving and video experience she was eminently qualified to head up the film crew. Furthermore she runs her own production company and in fact her company was working with a film production house from Newark, New York. Valentina’s deepest dive up to that time was a 120 metres in the Blue Hole of Dahab. The other two members of her team were Tracy Medway and Dave Wilkie, both from Australia and like Valentina, extremely experienced divers. Tracy had been part of the crew that worked on the filming of the Imax documentary about coral reefs which featured such well known names as the renown documentary team of Howard and Michele Hall, Dr Richard Pyle from Hawaii and Jean-Michelle Cousteau among others. Tracy brought a real depth (no pun intended) of experience and an infectious enthusiasm to her role as second camera operator to the team. It came as real shock to all of us when in February 2006 we heard that Tracy had passed away from cardiac arrest.
Dave’s role on the team was basically to look out for the ladies when they were busy filming. This might seem like a trivial thing, but I know from personal experience that although it may seem simple, operating a video camera underwater can demand so much mental focus (especially on deep or mixed gas dives) that a second diver can be vital to make sure that the camera operator does not overstay their bottom-time or go deeper than planned in pursuit of the perfect shot.
Dave Wilkie and Tracy Medway getting just prior to one of the many dives they did during the Red Sea Expedition of 2005
The NABQ Explorer
It was arranged that on the 2nd of June we could visit the harbour in Dahab to see the boat we’d be using for the weeks diving. Little did we know we were about to encounter yet another example of Egyptian civil service, what some members of the team began referring to, perhaps a little unkindly, as ‘the E factor’. This time it was the police services. About five pm in the afternoon we all bundled into the collection of small jeep 4x4 vehicles that would become our normal means of transport in Dahab, and were driven by Egyptian drivers, at a speed I never really felt comfortable with, through the sleepy town of Dahab. The little jeeps mostly had no roofs or where soft-top vehicles, which could take about six people with a small amount of hand luggage each. Our group needed about five depending on who was travelling. The ride only took about ten minutes, at the end of which we found ourselves at the very southern-most tip of the town. At this point we left the tar road and drove the last few 100 metres on the dirt till we came to a ramshackle collection of about four buildings. A wire fence demarcated the start of the police station and a desert-worn sign, reminiscent of a sign one might see in an old western movie town, told us in English and Arabic that this was a police station and a restricted area. I later learned that the fence only had one side to it, in other words you could walk around the fence and straight into the station compound. Although I wouldn’t recommend it; the policemen, quite correctly, take their jobs very seriously. The fence ended in a bent metal boom, it was manned by two policemen armed with Kalashnikov automatic rifles, otherwise known as AK47’s. They duly stopped us and it was only after much negotiation and explanations by our Egyptian and Polish friends, that the station commander agreed to let three of us in to look at the boat. It was unanimously agreed that Nuno, Sean and Theo, the three who needed to see it most, would go aboard.
Nuno and Lenne´ in one of the ‘jeeps’ (Fig 42)
The rest of us were not even permitted past the boom at that point, even though we knew quite well that if we were to get to the boat everyday for the next week, we’d have to go past that boom. Anyway, when the guys got back they were all happy with the boat. More importantly, Nuno felt it would be a better boat for our purposes than the one they’d used last year. Mainly because of two things: firstly it was lower in the water, and secondly it had a ‘deep-v’ shaped hull. These two things meant that deploying and retrieving divers would be easier even in rough seas and that the boat would be able to handle rough conditions better. The morning saw us back at the boom and having our bags searched. With remarkably few problems, we were allowed to enter the compound and board the NABQ Explorer for the first time. Loading all our gear took about an hour, and when we’d finished space was at a real premium on the lower deck of the boat’s stern. This first day was typical of this kind of expedition in that the team very quickly learnt what worked and what didn’t in terms of logistics and the general stowing of gear on the boat. From the very next day we had a much better system of loading the boat and everything had a place reserved for it.
The NABQ Explorer with the Sinai Desert in the background (Fig 43)
Nuno and the camera crew just before they deploy from the stern
Nuno’s side of the deck
The rest of us
First day at sea
Given the limited amount of time we had in Dahab, and the cost of hiring the boat for a day at a time, we could only do essential build up dives from the boat. Once Nuno was happy with the boat the following schedule fell into place;
3rd June - Trial dives off the boat
4th June – 100 Meter build up for Nuno and Pieter
5th June – Rest Day – Junior to do mixes for next dive
6th June – 150 Meter dive for Nuno – Pieter 120 Meter support
7th June – Rest Day – Junior to mix again- Nuno et al to analyze and label and rig cylinders
8th June – Big Dive or Rest Day
9th June – Big Dive or Rest Day
10th June – Big Dive or Rest Day
The last three days were all earmarked as potential days for Nuno to make his attempt on the record. It was necessary to have a number of days set aside since we knew from previous experience that the wind could blow for a whole week and make diving at best very uncomfortable, and at worst impossible. As it turned out the wind blew almost everyday we were there; it was just a question of how hard.
Our first day aboard ship dawned bright and clear and as always, hot, only a small breeze brushed the palm trees. Things looked good. But they soon changed. Almost before we got the boat loaded and put to sea the wind had started to blow harder. In no time a steady swell was running. Still, given the weather report, most of us felt we were still fairly lucky this first day at sea. Our objectives that day were modest, basically to practice deploying the shot line, use Nuno’s portable sonar device to be sure of the
depth and diving off the NABQ Explorer. It was vital for Nuno’s record attempt that we all be familiar with the boat and the diving procedure.
The sonar process took the longest time and demanded a good helping of patience from all on board. We headed out to a GPS bearin
g off El Kura bay called Nuno-One. The exact location of Nuno-One was a closely guarded secret, known only to Nuno and Andrzej. Once we were on site, Sean, acting as something of a scout, entered the water in snorkel gear. With him he carried the sonar to ping the bottom and thus ensure that Nuno would not find the bottom before reaching his target. The rest of us just about held our breaths as well when he ducked beneath the swells. After about thirty minutes, during which Sean made a number of dives and we tried to keep him in view amid the rolling waves he indicated that he wanted to get back in the boat. The skipper took the boat in a wide arc around his position and stopped engines close to him. As Sean neared the dive platform I noticed he was wearing something of a frustrated look on his face. The reading he’d been getting made no sense to him. Given his navy background he knew what he was looking for and hadn’t seen it on the screen. After a little discussion Nuno recalibrated the sonar and, because of the surface current and wind pushing us out of position we had to reposition the boat and put Sean back in the water. This process was repeated a number of times. Each time the boat was repositioned. Each time the sonar was reset. Each time we moved the boat farther out to sea, closer to another GPS bearing called Nuno-Two.
Into The Deepest And Darkest Page 14