Castaways Sub-Aqua Club
	A Branch (Branch No 2071) of The British Sub-Aqua Club

Who booked the weather?

Farne Islands

1-3 August 1998

The problem with the Farne Islands is that they are located at the other end of the country! We all set off from our respective homes heading towards those bleak signs "The North" and then beyond "The North" until we could go no further!

After travelling for several hours we arrived at our destination, the bunkhouse (Chez Stan Hall) in Beadnall. We knew where we’d find the others in the group – down the pub of course!

Anthony the trip organiser, had come prepared and our buddy pairs for the next day had been decided. Missing two "City" divers, we headed back to settle into the bunkhouse and make those beds as comfy as possible for the next three nights!(if possible!) The remaining two divers turned up after we’d gone to bed.

Anthony the trip organiser!

The next day was an early start, breakfast next door at the B&B at 7.00am for the full fry up! We made our way to the harbour at Seahouses to find out boat and meet the skipper, Leigh, one of Stans’ sons.

The boat (at first) appeared to be "Hope of Life", which we had dived from before, but a change of plan ensured us "Farne Diver"- a more luxurious spacious boat! We head off to our dive destination – Blue Caps- to find seals. Unfortunately no seals but crabs, wrasse, scorpionfish and deadmans fingers.

Back to harbour for lunch – fish’n’chips and then back on the boat, for the second dive of the day. Little Harcar also proved to be seal-less but instead huge jellyfish patrolled the waters!!

Where were the seals, and why didn’t they want to play? Still, the Spice Girls lollies kept us happy at the end of a days diving! An early dinner at the pub and an early night for most, dreaming and sleep talking of seals!

Next day the weather was barmy!

A lunchtime start to catch the slack at the Somali with other boats having the same idea. Descending down the shot to do some pootling and firkling around the wreck for treasure!

The treasure turned out to be rolls of cine film and glass bottles by the thousand, so we stuffed our pockets and goodie bags to inspect them later! On the ascent a rather inconsiderate diver barged past us on the safety stop on his way down. Still we weren’t going to let him ruin our dive!

Jake on the Somali

The next dive, another attempt to track down the seals, which were spotted basking on the rocks. We tried to get in close and got in only to find a maximum depth of 3m above a kelp forest. Trying to swim towards the seals, we battled with our buoyancy in the shallow waters. A couple of seals were spotted, some decided to play whilst other kept their distance.

A Seal!!

Another (or maybe the same one) Seal

Still not satisfied, back on the boat we decided to attempt another dive (seals or no seals) on the Abyssinia. A cold dive – but beautiful gorges covered in deadmans fingers!

A common sun starfish

Another night at the pub and an early night for an early breakfast the next day. Alarm call 5.40am and breakfast at 6.00am – are we on holiday?! Unfortunately the weather had turned and it was raining and the sea mist was rolling in! We went down to the harbour and Leigh told us the diving would be off. What a shame the seals weren’t coming out to play after all!

Amy Chillingworth

Some 'surface' photographs from the trip:

Bright and eager on day one. Little did they suspect...

Amy gets the joke, whilst Horace doesn't look too sure about UK diving.

Yes Suzanne, you are enjoying yourself. Honest!

Three wise monkeys?

Day two and the sun comes out.

What a difference a day makes, spot the extra divers.

Sean strikes his now familier pose, whilst Mark struggles with a damp, semi-dry.

Goodbye seahouses.

Another dive boat on its way to the same wreck.

The trail of devastation continues...

Seahouses harbour in the sunshine.

What a surprise! Another dive boat in the harbour.

Sean was using his sunburned face as a unique surface detection aid.

Stop trying to pretend that it was cold.

Castaways tradition: At least one trip photograph must show Suzanne either; asleep or with her hair in disarray.

Anthony Peacock