GingerCherry

Plymouth May 2004

BlokeInPub.com
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I'd arranged another Old Boys' trip to go diving on Blue Raider. The service that we get from Dave and Danny is second to none - they really are nice helpful guys.

Anyway, the five of us on the trip were:
MarkE,
Scary,
Gordon,
Queenie, and,
me.

Friday 20th
Having picked up my cylinders from Slough Scuba on Wednesday morning, I was all ready to go when Queenie arrived. He was using his "new" car this weekend, so it saved some cash on car hire. We chucked all my kit into his motor, and then headed off to the A303. There wasn't much traffic, and we made good time. Unfortunately, there wasn't much totty to keep us entertained, but at least there wasn't a psycho old man trying to run us off the road, as there was on the previous Old Boys trip.

Knowing that the pub stopped serving food at 9pm, and the chippy also closed at 9, Queenie and I had some pasties on the way. Scary, Gordy, and Mark got caught in driving rain on the M5, so we weren't expecting a nice weekend (either camping or diving), but we were going to give it a go.

When we got to Brixton, Queenie dropped me off at the Foxhound, and went to park at the campsite. I found Gordy sat in the pub on his own (Scary and Mark, having found out that they couldn't get food in Brixton after 9pm), had gone to MacDonald's (they arrived fairly soon, with some grub for Gordy as well). We had a few beers, and put the world to rights. Not eating in the pub, meant we didn't get served by "Sam in the corner", but at least we had a bit of beer action.

Gordy and Mark had already put the tents up, so all Queenie and I had to do was blow up the air bed (using a diving cylinder, of course). While we were doing so, Nick and Max turned up with their boat (and the Landrover waking everybody up). We went over to say "hello", but they were busy reversing the trailer, so we left them to it, and went to sleep.

Saturday 21st
The weather forecast for today was OK, but gales were forecast for Sunday (Gordy didn't believe a word of it). Danny had asked if we could arrive at 10 o'clock instead of 12, so we were there in good time (the boys needed to get fills, and I needed to perve at the totty in the dive shop).

Dave was looking after us today. Unfortunately, he damaged his leg while putting the boat in the water, but he carried on regardless - top man.

The water was flat calm in the harbour, so we headed out to see what it was like out at sea. Scary and I were on our twin-sets, and the others were diving as a three. Dave dropped Scary and me in first, and down we went.

The first dive was due to be the Rose Hill, because it was new to most of us. Dave dropped Scary and me in first, asking us to put up an SMB if we couldn't find the wreck. Unfortunately, the shot had been dragged off the wreck, so we put up the SMB (with the torch that Scary had found attached to it). Despite not being able to find the wreck, we had an excellent dive just tarting around.

The second dive was the other side of the breakwater looking for brass plates. We were joined by two other divers, one Bird, not totty, and a bloke. Dave put them in first, and they proceeded to inflate the worst fill of an SMB that I've ever seen.. Scary and I obviously had to make sure that ours was filled OK, so we put air into it until it was almost lifting us off the bottom. Scary and I found a bit of rope, so did the limbo, the high jump, and I tried tight-rope walking.

Dave told us that Sam (the bird from the dive shop, not the one from The Foxhound) would be joining us on the second dive on the Sunday, so we started praying for good weather.

Scary and I were up for a bit of curry and Stella action in Plymouth, so Dave said he'd give Danny a ring to see whether he'd give us a lift from the campsite. Unfortunately, he had other plans. Gordy, Queenie and Mark didn't fancy any Plymouth action, so went up to the chippy. After almost breaking my stage cylinder, Scary was ready to go. Mark had kindly offered to drive us to Plymouth.

We had a quick drink in the Navy Inn, before heading off to the curry house. As usual, it didn't disappoint, and it even had Stella glasses this time. We had the traditional Mattar Panner ("with the Chef's own home-made cheese"), and found a picture in the Sun of Sharon Davis's nipples.

After the curry, we headed back to the Navy Inn. We only had the one pint, firstly because we were diving the next day, and, secondly, because if we stayed any longer and drank any more, one of us would have pulled the bird who had a G-string top on. We jumped in a taxi, and joined the others for last orders in The Foxhound.

Sunday 22nd
Unfortunately, although the boys had remembered to buy fish 'n' chips, and beer, they'd forgotten the essentials of bread and eggs. Fortunately, Manhatten does an excellent Full English for about a fiver.

Danny picked us up from the slip (having forgotten to remove the prop cover), and off we went to The Elk. He doesn't seem to have much luck with The Elk when Scary and I are on the boat, and he got the shotline caught in the prop again. Gordy (the hero) saved the day.

Scary and I went in second, and had a long search of the site, looking for lost dive kit. Despite racking up about 30 minutes of deco' (I need a VR3) and a total dive-time of 69 minutes, we didn't find anything. The boys weren't very impressed at having to wait around for an hour. Scary and I were also worried in case Sam would be upset at being kept waiting.

Although I didn't need a fill, I felt the need to go to the dive shop anyway. When we got there, Sam was there (looking as gorgeous as ever), but with no dive kit. She didn't think that Danny was going out, so hadn't got her bits together (ooh-err), and no amount of begging would change her mind.

Gordy was feeling quite rough, so didn't fancy the trip to the Scylla. We therefore did a closer site. Having used quite a bit of air on the Elk, we didn't have much time before our air started getting a bit low, but at least it saved having to get fills between dives.

We all packed up our kit, got showered, and then headed off. Queenie and I got stuck in traffic on the A303, but it all seemed OK because there was some top drawer totty in the traffic jam.

Back in time to nip up to the Chinese take-away and Theshers before settling down to watch Waking the Dead with Bird. She'd been busy, all my ironing had been done (totty job) and she'd even done the washing up. She's not a bad lass.

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