Scary moments

[Farmer_J]

There’s something about the swimming on top of the big blue ocean that sh*ts me up now. I’ve dived in the Maldives and seen manta and amazing things that I couldn’t name to be honest, scuba diving was great as I was down there amongst it if you know what I mean. But the time I brown stained my swim shorts (twice) was in Egypt, snorkelling. The first time I was only 15 meters off the pontoon and it was a sheer cliff face as described above going down into the deep blue, I’m looking out for nice things which admittedly there wasn’t very much of. Looking out into the vastness I see a shape coming towards me and I’m just staring at it getting closer and closer trying to work out what it is. Never ever thought shark. However that’s exactly what it was, a hammerhead frickin’ shark. First one I have ever seen and it’s coming straight at me. Here to tell the tale at least, but I was laughed at by the locals when I eventually exited. Apparently it was a baby one! I cursed them under my breath when I eventually recovered.

The second time was again snorkelling in Egypt, took a day trip boat out where they said you can snorkel etc. Out in what looked like the middle of the ocean no land to be seen anywhere yet there was a coral reef, the guys said we can swim around it and back to the boat. Great that’d be cool, so no life jacket I started swimming around it. Didn’t even think about the possibility of getting tired half way round. That’s exactly what happened though, I’m flagging massively and thought I could make it across the top of this reef back to the boat! That was a bit of a mistake, I learn coral is sharp, it cuts you and you bleed which attracts the things mentioned in part one. Yeah so I panicked started thrashing around a bit, luckily some strong swimmer comes with a buoy and tows me back to the boat. The open water isn’t the place for me and I’d admit, I’m afraid of it!

 

[VSS]

Again OT.
Stepson and his friend went into Dorathea, at around 55 mtrs. friend disappeared.
Was at (Pretty sure this correct) 365 metres when they recovered him with a remote controlled submersible normally used for taking drugs from the hulls of ships.
Customs and Excise gave us some sort of print out showing all the features right to the very bottom which ended with a pretty sharp V shape. Dorathea was a quarry.
Ken.

Dorothea has a grim reputation for taking lives, but still people dive there, despite all the warnings.

 

[kenbro]

presume feet not metres......?

I had it in mind it was metres and still think that, though it was 25 years ago this July.
I don’t know whether I’m going senile but I do remember the printout we were given (Must ask Wifey if we still have it) and it showed lots of layers to the workings, where they would dig down then fashion a plateau on which were stone buildings that looked like cottages, then dig again at an angle and form another plateau, and so it went on until the bottom.
It looked like workers might possibly have live in the Quarry during their working week.
On the other hand, you may well be right.
Would be interested if anyone else knows anything about Dorathea.
Cheers,
Ken.
PS. It took a full week of searching from a RIB with viewing screens showing pictures from cameras on the remote vehicle to find the boy. It was Customs & Excise who undertook to rescue op.

 

[VSS]

presume feet not metres......?

I had it in mind it was metres and still think that, though it was 25 years ago this July.
I don’t know whether I’m going senile but I do remember the printout we were given (Must ask Wifey if we still have it) and it showed lots of layers to the workings, where they would dig down then fashion a plateau on which were stone buildings that looked like cottages, then dig again at an angle and form another plateau, and so it went on until the bottom.
It looked like workers might possibly have live in the Quarry during their working week.
On the other hand, you may well be right.
Would be interested if anyone else knows anything about Dorathea.
Cheers,
Ken.
PS. It took a full week of searching from a RIB with viewing screens showing pictures from cameras on the remote vehicle to find the boy. It was Customs & Excise who undertook to rescue op.

The deepest pit in Dorothea is 350 ft below the surface of the lake.

 

[Limpet]

I was un-nerved late last night in the pitch black in a remote field ...... I had been still for 20 minutes or so scanning. I felt some weight on my left foot and my leg was being pressed quite strongly. I looked down and could make out movement of a dark creature .......... then I spotted its white stripes ! A bloody badger was having a good sniff at me and standing on my foot! He was not inclined to go away, what did he think I smelt of? and I didn't fancy being bitten to I moved off and vowed to take a shower this month!!

 

[kenbro]

The deepest pit in Dorothea is 350 ft below the surface of the lake.

Tim,
How did you find that out? Sounds a bit more realistic.
Cheers, Ken.

 

[kenbro]

Tim,
How did you find that out? Sounds a bit more realistic.
Cheers, Ken.

Found it Tim.
Need to get a new memory. deerstalker.308 was right.
Ken.

 

[Glevum]

Dorothea quarry - Wikipedia

en.wikipedia.org

 

[JMikeyH]

Have never done "Technical Diving" but did used to do a wee bit of wreck diving on air.
It is the late 1980s and I am diving in Jordan.

As you entered the water from the beach it gently sloped away to about 10m depth.
About 50 or so meters from the water's edge, the sea bottom dropped away in a near vertical underwater (obviously) cliff.
I had never been as deep as the "mythical" 50m (for an air diver).
I was wearing an "Aladdin" depth gauge. I held that gauge in front of my face and allowed myself to "fall" over the cliff. All of the beautiful colours very quick dissipated into monochrome as the gauge showed, 30, 35, 40, 50, 60 65m....

At this point the Darwinian voice in my head kicked in. The noise of the air in my hoses sounded like a steam train and everything was getting a bit fuzzy and seeming to slow down.
I managed to see over my shoulder and could see one of my mates suspended above me in the water "beckoning me back". I looked back at the depth gauge - 72.4m.

I was in trouble and had just enough sense left to realise that.

I turned around to face the cliff. I did not swim back up, I climbed hand-over-hand - I remember nothing until I came to the "safe" depth of 40m.
I slowed myself right down and got my composure back, as I gently made my way back to the top of the cliff at 10m depth.
I sat at the top of that underwater cliff - staring past my fins back into the abyss - controlling my breathing (to give my body the chance to decompress), until that air tank was sucked dry.

So a very lucky stupid man avoided the "Bends" and in Jordan, that would have been almost certain death.
Yeah the "Bends" - this stupid man saved that little drama for Waymouth the following year, but that is a whole different tale...

View attachment 173465

I get a lot of enjoyment out of reading your posts, I'd love to hear a write up of the Waymouth experience if you ever find the time

 

[Scapegoat]

We had just done our second dive of the day at Dorothea, looking at the palmate newts it’s famous for and we heard a big scream from about fifteen yards away. A diver had come out of the water like a cork, screaming as he did so, then lay on his back belching and belching to get rid of the expanded air in his lungs and stomach.
Recognising that this was absolutely the symptoms of an uncontrolled ascent we got him out of the water. Fortunately one of our team was a doctor and had an emergency O2 kit so we got him masked up and started to find out what had happened.
He was a cave diver and was training alone. He’d been descending the wall to the right of the cottages which is about the deepest it gets. He’d been heading for about 50 metres or so and had suddenly realises that he was watching the wall slipping upwards faster than he wanted.
He told us at this point he checked his computer and saw that he was approaching 100 metres, and hit the button to inflate his suit or jacket to slow his descent. The valve froze open and filled both his jacket and suit. He tried desperately to purge his suit but by the time he’d got his fingers under the cuff he was already nearing the surface. His training kicked in and he screamed as loudly as he could to stop his lungs bursting.

We called the paramedics and left him in their capable hands. Salutary lessons for all of us.

 

[Rob1562]

Not a diving related tale this one, although I've got a few of those too !
Been out foxing until well into the wee small hours, very dark night, heavy cloud, no moon....you get the idea.
Finished for the night and two of us leaving to go home in mates pick-up...stops at a bridge across a dyke....no side rail, handrail etc just a concrete bridge. I get out of the truck to open the gate we'd locked behind us to let the truck through.
Don't to this day know why I went behind the truck not in front of it but walked down the drivers side of the truck across the bridge...put my right foot on what I thought was the bridge and yep you've guessed it nothing there !
In an instant I'd fallen 8 feet into the dyke below which was about 2 feet deep on water ! The scary bit was, in full spate the dyke/stream runs at a pace you'd struggle to get out of, if it was empty i'd have fallen 8 feet onto my back on stone and probably broken my back...however with just the right amount of water in it I just made a big splash and ended up covered in sh1*e !
My mate never saw or heard it happen and only came looking after about five minutes of wondering when I was going to open the gate.
Certainly taken a bit more care where I put my feet since then !
Regards, Rob.

 

[Tim.243]

Another diving story @Stalker1962...

Southern Mozambique, near Inhambane, December 1999. We’d been out on the offshore reefs, amazing diving with manta rays, moray eels, reef sharks (harmless), gropers in the holes. Me and the wife-to-be luckily had very similar air rates, so we could buddy up and not have one needing to surface way before the other.

The manta rays were circling in very shallow water on our ascent and at the five meter safety stop we were treated to a display that neither of us will ever forget. Once we surfaced, we swum back to the dinghy and, thrilled to bits, ditched the tanks and belts. As the dive master was sorting us out to head back to shore, one of the other divers shouted DOLPHINS! and within seconds the boat was surrounded.

OKAY TEAM, SNORKELS AND FINS! shouted the dive master, and we all scrambled to sort ourselves out and one by one half a dozen of us plopped over the side.

The next however long was pure magic. Curious dolphins, enthralled humans. We began to tire, and the wife signalled she needed to get back to the dinghy. I was finished, really buggered, and as I turned to follow her I saw her suddenly stop and point, downwards.

There, directly below me at about 10m, was a fukkin’ big shark, rolled over slightly so the one eye was looking directly upwards. At me. It was a bull shark, or as we knew them, a Zambezi.

The wife signalled to me very clearly, it is... time to get the hell outta here. She is an extremely strong swimmer, much better than me. I kind of panicked I think, the next few seconds are a blank, I struck out for the boat but it was way further off than I thought. When I looked back down for the shark I couldn’t see it, which was even worse! I tried like hell to fin powerfully but I was already so tired I could barely get myself going.

I swam, I looked, I got closer to the boat. My crystal clear recollection - seared in my memory - is me getting within a few feet of the dinghy and thinking “I’ve done it”, when at that very instant, out of the murky depths, at effortless speed, the shark swam directly up towards me.

I didn’t see the shark turn away. For me, it was just sheer panic, bubbles, thrashing and the kind of ridiculous yelling and anguished cries you do in such circumstances through a snorkel. Sounds ridiculous. Suddenly I was pulled into the boat, arms and legs flailing, a blubbering wreck. Completely finished. Toast. Not a great look... Looking back, I did everything wrong.

What I didn’t know was there was still a diver in the water some ways off, a girl who was hopelessly tired and largely oblivious as to what was going on. I don’t know how long it took to get to her, but it was the longest “time” of our lives. Slow motion ultimate fear.

No one was eaten. Everyone crapped themselves. It was a very, very quiet ride back to shore. We all got rather drunk that night.

A couple of days later, a family in a tent camped near us burned to death when their gas fridge exploded in the middle of the night and melted the burning tent all over them. That was an experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

I have taught open water courses off (pandarnie) Jangamo, my SA friends Dad had a carbana ( lodge) I have taken the bucky down to where the locals make the bricks.

On my 2x 6 week trips we dived all of that part..even went to lake lagoogo ( inland) and launched a rib in it lol

 

[Stalker62]

..I'd love to hear a write up of the Weymouth experience if you ever find the time.

Well all right then. Are we all sitting comfortably? Then I will begin.

It is summer - actually it is the 29th May 1989. I am down on the south coast of England with my diving club.
This club was born of Daily Mirror staff but has morphed into a disparate group of individuals the backbone of which was now NHS workers.

Having worked in the NHS, I was now two and bit years into my new career with the Met Police. Why do I mention this? Well one of the disparate individuals was an East End villain and a convicted armed robber to boot. He was a bear of a man and his name was Mick. It came as no surprise to me when I learned that he was known as "Mad Mick".
We had an uneasy alliance when it came to diving but we both knew the score.

Any hoo.

I had already carried out my two planned dives of the day when someone offered me the chance for a third dive. Going off script seldom ends well in diving.
I had used the air in my two tanks, so someone passed me a twin-set. The issue with this set is that the waist belt was defective - so what is the problem with that?
Well here is the problem. As I did my backward roll off the boat into the water, the twin-set rode up and struck me on the back of the head with the metal cross-bar.

I did not realise it at the time but this had concussed me. This third dive was all over the place, I messed up bottom times and decompression times.
I ended my dive (none the wiser) and clambered back into the boat. As I took the twin-set off I suddenly felt an excruciating pain in my right shoulder. I thought I had torn a muscle as I took my kit off but the Skipper thought otherwise and gunned the boat back into Weymouth harbour.

From there I was taken to the local hospital. I had not been there more than a few moments when I saw a rescue helicopter land in the carpark. I wondered why that was there.

The Doctor came in and said, "Your taxi is here".
It is not the bends what kills you - it is the embarrassment.

I was led to the waiting helicopter - it was as yellow as I was red.

It is (I learnt) standard practise for a **** patient to be accompanied in the helicopter by a nurse. I looked at this stunning vison of Nightingale personification and offered my profuse apologies for being such a nuisance.

"Nonsense" said my Goddess, "I have waited years to go in one of these".

I was laid out on the stretcher and the nurse sat to one side of me. She was wearing a dress and I am ashamed to say that I could see exactly what she wore underneath that dress.
Well if I die, then that is not a bad last memory.

The helicopter lifted and wave-hopped me to a Royal Naval base for decompression treatment.

I was by now completely in love with my nurse.
The winchman regularly interfered with my dying fantasies as he checked me and kept offering me the "Thumbs up". Verbal communication (without comms) is impossible in the back of a chopper. I was strangely annoyed with the winchman as the "Thumbs up" signal means something entirely different to a diver.


Before you know it, I am locked in a decompression chamber with a member of the Royal Navy - whose nickname I kid you not, was "Bubbles".
I was in there for five hours. The pain in my shoulder disappeared the moment the "pot" was pressurised.

I was told that I would be kept in the Royal Naval Hospital overnight so I needed to phone work to tell them I would not be back in tomorrow.
By the magic of the Royal Navy, I was able to make a phone call from inside the decompression chamber - it took a while for me to convince the Station that I was not putting on a stupid Daffy Duck voice and that I was indeed locked inside a decompression chamber with a sailor...

I never saw that nurse again but often see her in my dreams.

 

[Muir]

I was visiting the Reservation with my then new bride during hunting season. It was her first hunt. We were strolling on a sunny grass slope rising up from a wooded creek bottom, enjoying the day and not really caring about deer hunting. Suddenly there as an odd sound and the boom of rifle fire. Dirt clods came up and another boom. I looked through the thin line of trees and saw a man cycling the bolt on a rifle. I shoved the missus to the ground and emptied my Model 94 Winchester at him. I dropped that when empty, drew my Ruger Blackhawk 357 and punched some holes in his ****-yellow Ford pickup as he made his way around the far side to the driver's door. He got into the truck and started off. I holstered the pistol, picked up the rifle, yanked my stunned wife off the ground and shoved her towards a line of tree, hissing "RUN!"

Turned out to be my sister in law's brother but, it's OK, in his inebriated state he mistook me for a friend of mine he wanted to kill. Mistaken identity, that's all.

The wife never hunted with me again. Wonder why? ~Muir

 

[Stalker62]

Turned out to be my sister in law's brother but, it's OK, in his inebriated state he mistook me for a friend of mine he wanted to kill. Mistaken identity, that's all.

Well that gets my vote for post of the month...

 

[Tagoat]

Not frightening, more perplexing, but by jove! it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I was losing a long, long held friend to cancer. We made sure she had her wish to die at her home.
Me & her husband were holding vigil.
She was "sleeping" gently & comfortably in the next room.
We had just popped into the kitchen to get some supper, though whilst hungry, we could barely eat.
You may have experienced these times yourself? There seemed nothing else to be done or said.
Her home was her home for 60 odd years, an ancient country family farm well away from neighbours or intrusion.
Doors between her bedroom & kitchen were open. As we both sipped our tea, food left uneaten, we heard that dreadful last sigh ...
She's gone. At peace.

THEN the piano music started. I jest not one bit. It was loud & well audible. (no piano in the house)
Her husband & I looked at each other frozen to the spot. No radio on No TV on. Nothing. Just a piano playing the most beautiful music.
Both me & her husband asked each other for confirmation that we were both hearing it. And yes, we were.
We sat with her for a full maybe 10 minutes . Then, the music stopped.

We neither of us understood what had just occurred.

The next day the funeral directors arrived to remove her to their home of rest. Her two horses were stabled in the yard, just up from the rear door of the house where the "ambulance" was.
I have never experienced horse behaviour that I did that day. They withdrew their nosy faces away from the activity, over their doors & proceeded to kick 8h*t out of their stables.

I still don't know whatever to make of it.

 

[Mossypaw]

Years ago now, a mate was out looking for a beast for the freezer on a very rocky hill that was never stalked because getting a beast down was a case of ‘cut & carry’
The weather turned bad and a thick cloud/mist rolled in over the hill making visibility very poor, about fifty feet he reckoned. As he was making his way down a figure appeared to his left, he froze, not sure if he had been spotted. The figure, dressed all in tweed including cape and with a beard halfway down his chest carried on walking across his path. He never moved till the figure was long out of site, the cloud lifted a little as he took a couple of steps forward, right to the edge of a sixty foot sheer drop into the loch below.
He didn’t get one for the pot that day !

 

[VSS]

Years ago now, a mate was out looking for a beast for the freezer on a very rocky hill that was never stalked because getting a beast down was a case of ‘cut & carry’
The weather turned bad and a thick cloud/mist rolled in over the hill making visibility very poor, about fifty feet he reckoned. As he was making his way down a figure appeared to his left, he froze, not sure if he had been spotted. The figure, dressed all in tweed including cape and with a beard halfway down his chest carried on walking across his path. He never moved till the figure was long out of site, the cloud lifted a little as he took a couple of steps forward, right to the edge of a sixty foot sheer drop into the loch below.
He didn’t get one for the pot that day !

Saint Ninian appeared to him.

 

[slider]

when I was farming I got caught in the middle of a storm. Saw and felt a lightning strike not that far away, When I got to the next field there were 9 dead sheep in a 40 metre radius, all with scorch marks!

 

[VSS]

when I was farming I got caught in the middle of a storm. Saw and felt a lightning strike not that far away, When I got to the next field there were 9 dead sheep in a 40 metre radius, all with scorch marks!

Had exactly the same experience!
I have a premonition that it will be lightning that does for me in the end.