written by Harini Iyengar
As a brand new member of Clidive, the first Club event which I attended was the St Abbs trip on the bank holiday weekend 23-26 August 2024. Berwickshire Marine Reserve was established in 1984 and remains the only voluntary marine reserve in Scotland.
Out of nine other divers on the trip, I had managed to meet three briefly at Ironmonger Row when hiring equipment and loading the Club van, however, the rest were complete strangers. Over the course of the weekend, I was intrigued gradually to match their names and personalities with what they had written in the St Abbs WhatsApp group. Despite initially feeling all at sea – like the newcomer at a big family gathering – I could tell that I was going to have a well-organised, safe and interesting weekend of diving with these strangers. This was largely because Lucie, trip Leader and Advanced Diver trainee, would manage everything sensibly and carefully. This had been evident to me from her written trip briefing, and continued to be evident in her oral briefings and in how she dealt with events. With planning, preparation and kindness going beyond the call of duty, Lucie even had spare earplugs to hand to lend to a diver whose sleep had been disrupted by his oblivious room-mate’s snores.
Through Phil’s acceptance of my last-minute shameless request for a lift from our hotel in Eyemouth to St Abbs harbour each day, I was able to save myself a long and lonely drive. Instead, from King’s Cross, I enjoyed a peaceful three-and-a-half-hour train ride to Berwick-upon-Tweed, England’s most northerly town. Having sent the heavy gear in the van, I was able to use my extra time and energy to follow the well-appointed and scenic tourist trail all around the town. Construction of Berwick’s mediaeval town walls began in 1297 and for centuries it was a garrison town of great strategic importance, particularly during the Jacobite revolts and Napoleonic wars. Nowadays, it exudes a wistful air of faded grandeur but will never lose its dramatic views of the estuary and coastline.
A bus took me to Eyemouth, where we stayed at the Ship’s Quarters. Although it lacked its own restaurant or kitchen, it was situated right on Eyemouth harbour front, next to the restaurants and shops, and was more bougie than sailor’s billet. Eyemouth is a charming old fishing village, which retains an active economy. A particular point of interest is Jill Watson’s moving sculpture commemorating the Eyemouth Widows and Bairns, in which each figure represents a real person. The great storm of 14 October 1881, Scotland’s worst fishing disaster, drowned 189 men, including many fathers. In Eyemouth, 78 widows were left raising 182 children alone. Resisting strong pressure to put their children into an orphanage, the tenacious and clever local mothers kept their families together, stating, “We shall keep our bairns for the future of our ports.”
In a six-restaurant town, David, as Catering Manager, did comprehensive research and found dinner venues to satisfy carnivores, pescatarians, omnivores and vegetarians. Whilst the Ship Bar and Restaurant provided rustic fare, in a rustic atmosphere and with a rustic teenage manner of table service, Oblo Bar impressed us with its sophisticated and delicious Sicilian menu and urbane style, yet at provincial prices.
The RIB Yellow stayed in St Abbs, where we moved it between the harbour and the slipway each day, in accordance with our work rota, the tides and our dive plans. Over three days, I enjoyed diving in a pair with Phil, Gabriel and Matt, each with his own panache, mood and way of welcoming a newcomer.
On the sunny Saturday morning, with some wind and minimal current, our first dive was close to shore at Cathedral Rocks. Not everyone found the arch, however, everyone enjoyed a pretty dive with anemones, crabs, lobsters, jellyfish and starfish.
After lunch at the harbour, we dived at Tye’s Tunnel. The weather remained pleasant, although slightly choppy on the surface. We swam into the tunnel, which ascended, and was very clear inside. A rockfall appeared to have changed the landscape from what we had expected and it became too narrow to proceed. On returning to the reef, we observed anemones and kelp.
Sunday’s first dive was to Black Carr. The cloudy, dull and cold weather was less inviting than the previous day’s, but underwater we spotted many crabs of different sizes, shapes and colours, and an impressive large blue lobster. Unsurprisingly, we also spotted lobster pots.
We dived along a pretty wall covered in anemones and dead man’s fingers, although the outgoing tide brought silt which marred the visibility. Eating my packed lunch sitting on a wall later, I got into conversation with two schoolteacher fathers taking their four children out paddleboarding along the coast, who asked about my dive. We gradually realised that the children’s mouths were hanging open and that I needed to explain that I had not been diving on a crime scene.
On Sunday afternoon we enjoyed much better visibility in Headlands Cove. It was a long, shallow dive in a sheltered cove with a rocky bottom, where we saw crabs and anemones. On surfacing, we were abruptly plunged by Lucie into a training exercise in which Marta was a fake casualty. Although cold, we eventually saved her.
A true republican, Lucie put the final day’s dive to the vote at Sunday evening’s dinner. Rather than a shallow, scenic dive with a leisurely start time and a convenient return in good time to haul out the RIB, the group elected to dive on the remains of the steel steamship Glanmire at around 27 m, involving an early wakening, quick checkout and brisk launch to catch the brief slack tide, to be followed by a hectic return to recover the RIB urgently before low tide would prevent it. Despite all proceeding as per plan until we reached the dive site, unexpected events then stopped us from seeing the Glanmire this time. The buoy line caught fast on the line of a lobster pot, impossible to recover by brute force, which then required an expert and quick underwater recovery by two divers. One of them then fell ill upon surfacing, required oxygen and became too cold. In light of this, the buddy pair preferred not to dive again. Then another diver, observing the whole scene, became too anxious to dive.
At that point, everyone was content to revert to the shallow, scenic dive. Seven of us eventually said farewell to St Abbs with a very pretty and calm dive along walls covered in anemones, urchins, dead man’s fingers, crabs and starfish.
Lucie brought everyone back to harbour safe and sound. A military-style operation recovered the boat swiftly before the tide turned. We had a lovely bank holiday weekend in beautiful St Abbs.
