Dedication

Throughout many adventures and the accompanying danger in

which I often found myself, my wife Dinah has been at my side
both above and below water - supporting me and encouraging
me throughout. I have not the slightest hesitation in shouting
from the rooftop that I would have achieved very little had I not
been fortunate to have enjoyed her devoted love and
companionship during these past happy years.
This book is therefore dedicated to Dinah - constant companion
through the good times, but more importantly through the trials
and traumas of our life together.

Kenneth Clark

ADVENTURES IN MURKY
WATERS

Copyright Kenneth Clark (2015)

The right of Kenneth Clark to be identified as author of this work has been
asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the
prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this
publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for
damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781785541896 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781785541902 (Hardback)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2015)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ

Printed and bound in Great Britain

An autobiographical account of a series of diving adventures from 1958

1980
Throughout many adventures and the accompanying danger in which I often
found myself, my wife Dinah has been at my side both above and below
water supporting me and encouraging me throughout. I have not the
slightest hesitation in shouting from the rooftop that I would have achieved
very little had I not been fortunate to have enjoyed her devoted love and
companionship during these past happy years.
This book is therefore dedicated to Dinah constant companion through the
good times, but more importantly through the trials and traumas of our life
together.

HEALTH WARNING

Should the reader not be involved or mildly interested in SCUBA training

regimes or the more technical aspects of Underwater Breathing Equipment
it is permissible to skip straight through the Introduction of the first few
pages to begin the adventures! The antics begin on page 26 and each episode
is absolutely true! Enjoy.
Ken Clark

SS Gitana at her mooring on Loch Rannoch. She displaced 54

Tons and was 90 feet long, with an engine rated at 25 NHP. Built by T.B.
Seath at Rutherglen for General Alastair MacDonald Commander of the
land forces in Scotland.
Launched in 1881, Gitana sank during a storm just 7 months after being put
on the loch. She was discovered by Hatfield Polytechnic divers in 1972 from
information provided by Michael Petter of Broxbourne. Hertfordshire.
[From a photograph taken in 1881 Courtesy of the Dunalastair
Hotel www.dunalastair.co.uk

Contents

Introduction

11

Chapter 1 The Beaufighter Project

26

Chapter 2 The Roman Pond Incident

46

Chapter 3 Student Spanish Holiday

53

Chapter 4 Dianna Martens

70

Chapter 5 The Torpedo Project

74

Chapter 6 Explosives

83

Chapter 7 Moidart

89

Chapter 8 The Amphorae

95

Chapter 9 Gitana Phase 1

114

Chapter 10 The Recovery of HMS XE8

125

Chapter 11 Gitana Phase 2

138

Chapter 12 The Norwegian Saga

148

Chapter 13 Gitana phase 3

183

Chapter 14 Deteriorating Relationships

209

Chapter 15 Gitana Phase 4 [The Cox Gun]

220

Chapter 16 Gitana 5 Final Stage

244

Chapter 17 Epilogue

261

10

Introduction

My adventures really began on a sunny afternoon early in 1958. I was gazing

out of the front window pondering over the length of the grass when quite out
of the blue my young friend and neighbour lifted the latch on the garden gate.
He hurriedly walked down the concrete path toward my front door and rang
the doorbell. I greeted him cordially of course, but he appeared strangely
animated, as if he was dying to get something off his chest as quickly as
possible. Mum- bling as he hurriedly pushed past me, he insisted that I join
him in some sort of adventure at a swimming pool a few miles east of London
Airport. I listened to his story, I vaguely remembering the swimming pool
and its location near the Great West Road, but I hadnt been to the Pool since
I was a young lad and I certainly couldnt imagine why Roger wanted to go
there of all places as it was some miles away. However, I listened intently as
he explained that a group or a club of some kind was offering free
underwater diving lessons to newcomers. He paused, just long enough to take
a breath but still watching my reaction to his suggestion and then continued,
trying to convince me that the pool where the free lessons were being offered
wasnt really too far away. It seemed that neither of us really had anything
terribly important to do of course, but I still wasnt at all convinced that his
plan was going to be such a good idea, so I prompted him for a little more
information before committing myself. He readily gave me chapter and verse
about sharks and underwater swimming adventures until I had to stop him
before he ran out of breath! It was quite obvious that hed been watching far
too much television and his imagination had been fired up with this newfangled underwater swimming craze. He went in to complete overload,
delivering a blow by blow description of what I could expect, ending with an
urgent plea for me to join him for one of the free training sessions.

11

Director of the Gitana Project

Photo courtesy of The Scots Magazine
The journey over to Isleworth was probably only 10 miles or so, which was a
nice run out on the bike and Roger knew only too well that I would find it
difficult to pass up any excuse to take the bike out, so from the outset he
must have known he was on to a winner.
At this time just about everyone had been watching the underwater
adventures of Hans and Lotte Hass on TV. The popular duo had enthralled
and finally seduced Roger; along with millions of other Television addicts it
has to be said. After watching a couple of episodes of this exciting series and
reading a free diving lesson advertisement placed in the local news- paper
by a diving club, he realised that he might actually be able to swim beneath
the water himself and he just had to drag someone else along to share the
new experience. When hed finally convinced himself that there would be
little or no financial outlay, he guessed that it was the right time to both
investigate the activities and enjoy a fast ride on the back of my motorbike
all for free!

12

To be absolutely honest, it didnt take a lot to convince me and before long

the pair of us were riding down the old Great West Road at cracking pace
with the distinctive thump of my 500cc Clubmans Velocette in our ears.
Registration and documentation formalities quickly dispensed with, the new
recruits in to the World of Diving donned swimming trunks and met their
Instructors for the first time. We both stood a little nervously at the side of the
pool, totally absorbed as we watched some of the more advanced trainees
going through their paces, some actually using aqualungs. Moving
effortlessly, just a few feet beneath the surface of the water, they appeared to
be using hand signals to communicate with each other as they familiarised
themselves with the equipment and we were enthralled. However, the spell
was broken when Roger and I were invited in to the water by a couple of
friendly instructors and I guess it was from that point onward that we happily
slipped in with the slick training regime.
The following weeks carried us both through a series of mind boggling and
exhausting training procedures, using borrowed snorkelling equipment of
course. We attended lectures week after week, answering questions and
performing tricks for our Instructors like tame Circus animals before our
British Sub Aqua Club logbooks were finally authenticated to show wed
passed our snorkelling exams. We had both been baptised as almost
waterproof! Many more weeks passed as we travelled back and forth to the
Pool, both spending a great deal of time on and beneath the water,
ploughing through the intensive and exhausting fitness training regime, or
sitting through a mind boggling series of training lectures about human
physiology and the dangers of breathing high pressure air and how to
orientate ourselves beneath the sea.
As our strength and capabilities were tested and honed, we passed a series of
minor exams to show that we had absorbed the important rules about safety,
going on to absorb the more technical aspects of the equipment before being
fixed up with a set of club aqualungs, but first we were shown how to quickly
release ourselves in case of an emergency. The time had at last arrived for us
to be initiated in to the use of the breathing equipment.
I allowed myself to be fitted into the webbing and for the first time had my
air tank supply turned on by my Instructor. He popped the mouthpiece in to
my mouth and allowed me to slide beneath the surface, keeping in touch with
me throughout those first few seconds by hanging on tightly to my straps
from his position at the side of the pool. That first unbelievably exciting
experience was something I could only describe as being beyond my wildest
dreams. I had actually breathed air underwater and I was hooked a little
over awed, but definitely well hooked!

13

After the few minutes that it took for me to relax with the strange equipment
glued to my body and face, I gradually gained confidence that I wasnt about
to drown, then slowly and very quietly I drifted down to the 10 feet marker
at the bottom of the Pool where Roger was already sitting on his haunches.
He was very still, breathing in short, halting gasps and it appeared to me that
he was either mesmerised by something on the bottom of the pool or willing
his equipment to keep working by concentrating hard! I placed my hand
gently but firmly on the top of his head to let him know I was by his side and
he stared up at me, wide eyes showing through his mask, an expression of
sheer wonderment on his face. We were both so pleased with ourselves!
Another world began to unfold during the following weeks as we
experimented with the rather crude and sometimes unforgiving equipment.
We took turns trying to empty the swimming pool by the lung full before
gradually mastering the skill of being able to breathe normally, all the time
under the control of some very competent instructors I might add. The British
Sub Aqua Club training regime was and I guess is still considered to be the
finest amateur underwater training organisation in the world and even in those
early days the Instructors were both experienced and knowledgeable. Most
newcomers to the sport had to be extremely motivated too, for it was a time
when the specialised equipment was not readily available and cash was
invariably short anyway, so most newcomers to the hobby were spending a
great deal of time and effort simply looking for the odd item of diving gear.
The equipment was so expensive that the average person couldnt easily
afford it and it simply wasnt something one was likely to see in a shop
window anyway!
During those early days of intensive training and familiarisation, every stretch
of open water I passed on my journeys around the countryside seemed to
beckon me. I realised of course that the only unfettered diving experience Id
ever be allowed to experience had to be during Club training activities or
perhaps on snorkelling trips with Roger in shallow lakes, but even those quick
sorties to local lakes gave me a great deal of experience and confidence in
shallow water, experiences that all stood me in good stead later, but it was oh
so very cold that I vowed that my first priority would be to buy or perhaps
make a neoprene suit to keep myself warm!
Roger and I later bought some black sheets of expanded neoprene which was
the standard material used in the manufacture of professional wet suits and he
also managed to obtain some paper patterns of the suits. Both of us then spent
a whole week marking, cutting out and sticking the sheets together with glue
before I came upon some long brass zips which we soon fitted to the front of
the suits. The completed outfits actually looked quite professional considering
that theyd been put together on the lounge floor! They turned out to be a lot
warmer than our swimming trunks of course, particularly in the winter! Some
14

evenings, I sat in front of the television at home, perspiring in to my new

neoprene suit for hours while I peering through the glass of my new mask,
snorkel stuffed tightly in to my mouth, just to familiarise myself with the
slightly claustrophobic effect and the restricted movement of the ensemble.
However, I discovered that the pro- cess of simply donning my suit had one
or two social drawbacks which became quite embarrassing. It became
necessary for me to take a can of perfumed talcum powder along to help me
and I powdered myself liberally in order to slide in to my suit easily. I also
discovered that wearing ladies tights beneath the suit helped me to slip my
legs into the trousers without tearing the open cell rubber material. However,
neither the clouds of powder nor the ladies tights presented a terribly good
image for a young macho male and I swore that I would have to do something
to save me from this bizarre situation, but notwithstanding the
embarrassment, both talcum and the ladies tights did save a lot of energy
before I entered the water...
It was drummed in to me from the very beginning that any form of
unsupervised underwater exploration by trainees using breathing equipment
was frowned upon, particularly if carried out by a couple of enthusiastic
youngsters out for adventure. Our escapades in a number of local lakes were
therefore strictly limited to the snorkel tube, our newly built suits and a
couple of borrowed weight belts. However, I desperately longed to be able to
spend more time below and quickly set about making things happen! It didnt
take me long to work out that the lack of equipment was always likely to
prevent me from advancing my experiences toward anything of a more
adventurous nature, thus diving with an aqualung was going to be out of the
question unless I could either earn enough spare cash to buy my own gear, or
until I could hire the Club equipment during official Club dives, but
considering that I was well down the pecking list when it came to borrowing
equipment, I was going to be out of luck for some time to come. I was
eventually forced by circumstances to look at the problem from a completely
different aspect and after some thought, I wrote down a comprehensive list of
my requirements. I made an assessment of how long each item would take to
manufacture, then organised myself a little bar chart. I then had a rough idea
of how long it could take me to fabricate each piece of equipment compared
to the time it would take to earn the money, at the same time carrying out a
little costing exercise on buying new gear... It didnt take long to establish
that I would be too old before I could afford to buy professionally built items!
The self-build system was the only course open to me anyway, thus the
inevitable decision was made for me. I went hell for leather toward making as
much equipment as I could in the shortest time possible, leaving the
acquisition of less important pieces until later.
The mould for making lead weights seemed to be a simple task which
presented little or no problem for Roger, for he was actually a very skilled
15

toolmaker. He quickly set about producing an aluminium mould, faithfully

copied from a standard diving weight. His beautifully machined mould turned
out to be a real winner, for we began producing a range of lead weights,
selling them off to club members and newcomers, the scheme proving to be
quite a lucrative way of financing the production of purchase of other
materials we both needed, but it was a certainly a smelly and dangerous job as
we melted all those old scrap lead pipes!
I then set about putting my spies out and about to find a commercially built
Demand Valve and within a couple of weeks, by means of a favour here
and a favour there, I had in my possession a professionally produced
American manufactured model, on loan for a whole week! I sat down
during the lunch hours at work and gradually produced some fairly accurate
drawings before returning the valve to its rightful owner, who was none the
wiser, except probably finding it a little cleaner after its return!
Pretty soon I had all the necessary details and sketches to set about building
the most vital part of my diving equipment, which I calculated would allow
me to join the more advanced divers in their expeditions out at sea. I reasoned
that if I could produce and test my own gear to my set production times it
would just about coincide with the completion of my final training
examinations. Of course it didnt occur to me that I might fail any of the tests
so I just ploughed on building bits and pieces, pushing on with the exercises
and intensive training with the enthusiasm of youth and an air of total
confidence in my own ability. The annoying hurdles didnt really figure in my
plans and they were easily brushed aside...
Lunch breaks at the Chiswick firm of Evershed & Vignoles suddenly began
to take on a different importance during the working week. I used my
influence as an Electronics Supervisor to cajole and persuade my fellow
Departmental Heads, and they in turn instructed their own staff to
manufacture pieces of my diving gear from my rough engineering drawings.
They put their specialised lathes at my disposal, their electro plating
equipment, their sheet metal presses and spraying equipment too, using lunch
breaks to build that first beautiful home-built Aqualung device.
My original drawings were based upon an early model of the Atlantic
Sealion, which was quite an effective single stage device, loved and despised
by divers of that era for its habit of allowing water down the air hose at
inappropriate times. The early version was a difficult demand valve to use at
the best of times, requiring a particularly high degree of training if it was to
be used effectively, but considering that experts like Hans Hass were still
playing around with sets of dangerous Oxygen Re-Breathing equipment, the
Sealion valve had pretty well reached the pinnacle of amateur underwater
air breathing technology for normal sporting activities. Moreover, it was
16

considered quite safe compared to breathing oxygen through which any

delivered gas might at any time turn out to contain a cocktail of caustic
chemicals from the old wartime Frogmans gear. However, like most other
pieces of experimental or prototype equipment, demand valves were often a
little unsophisticated, sometimes introducing quantities of water mixed
together with the air in the breathing tubes which turned into a foul solution,
which was disconcerting to say the least! The experience of breathing these
noxious mixtures as they were directed down the appropriate tube wasnt for
the squeamish, thus the technique of filtering air and at the same time
squirting water out of the side of the mouth had to be mastered. Pre-filtered
air was then supposed to be sucked down the windpipe in to the lungs if one
was really fortunate! It did however take a little practice if one wasnt to
promote a spasm of the glottis leaving one gasping for air and shooting to
the surface in complete panic! In fact as I remember it, the filtering
procedure often took longer to master than the actual diving training itself,
but one thing was certain, it was sure to sort out the wheat from the chaff as
the experts said! However, the Cousteau/Cagnan single stage diving valve as
it stood was probably the best device available at the time and in the overall
scheme of things it was relatively inexpensive, better still it was actually
available to the few people who were in the know! There was actually a far
more sophisticated two stage valve perfected at the time known by amateur
divers as the Heinke or Merlin valve, but I had no grandiose idea of
borrowing a piece of kit like this and anyway, getting hold of one was like
trying to borrow a Rolls Royce for a weekend car rally.
Some months later I managed to acquire one of these devices, but by that
time the excitement of using my own home made equipment far surpassed
any desire to use the beautifully manufactured Merlin valve and after making
some sketches of its internals I sold the thing on at a huge profit! Anyway,
having assessed the situation as far as equipment went, it looked very much
as if the reverse engineered Sealion project, if and when it ever came to
fruition, was going to be my state of the art diving equipment in to the
foreseeable future.
Next, the question of finding an air supply reared its head as both my training
and the Aqualung project progressed. A regular supply of air was always
going to be quite a problem in itself, but nothing that couldnt be worked out
in time. I still had a few other irons in the fire and with a modicum of luck I
knew that I had every chance of completing the project.
I managed to obtain a couple of ex WW2 Air Ministry Oxygen bottles, taken
from scrapped RAF Bombers. These were quite light in weight and were the
most suitable high pressure containers to be found anywhere. They were
small, 26 cubic feet capacity tanks known affectionately as Tadpoles. The
1800 psi tanks were quite cheap, but were sold as is which meant that
17

they were still fitted with the original valve stems and the parts associated
with the oxygen supply used aboard wartime aircraft totally unsuitable for
underwater use at the time of course and probably in quite a dangerous state
for anything else too! They were also covered with what seemed to be miles
of fine, high tensile steel wire, tightly laid around the exterior of the tanks,
probably to contain an explosion and prevent any pieces of steel shrapnel
from flying around the aircraft in the event of some in-flight disaster.
Knowing only too well that this layer of wire had to be removed, I clearly
remember the chaos and panic as I suddenly found hundreds of feet of coiled
spring wire leaping violently from the outer surface of the tank as I cut
through the first outer strands. Wire flew everywhere, climbing and coiling
itself around anything and everything until its strength spent, it lay inert in a
mass of coils around my bleeding legs. Only when the wire was safely
deposited in dustbins did it gave me time to apply band aids to cuts and skin
punctures! The procedure of stripping down those little tanks was something
Id rather not repeat, unless I was sitting in the safety of a bomb shelter
behind a screen...
The particular problem of obtaining suitable valve stems was overcome when
I made contact with another friend who worked in the famous Siebe Gorman
diving works just south of London and on the borders of Surrey. I managed to
wangle one of my little deals with this particular guy and soon afterwards a
pair of used valve stems and an interconnecting manifold were delivered to
the Goods Inwards Department of my works, marked for my attention. The
incoming paperwork was immediately and most mysteriously lost in the
appropriate waste bin of course and nobody was the wiser. Meanwhile, the
steel wire having been removed from the tanks, the exterior of each tank was
sandblasted to clean off any underlying corrosion, then the insides of the
tanks were tumbled in a special cleaning tank filled with abrasive pellets
which cleaned out any nasty little bits of rubbish or sand left over from the
sandblasting treatment. A coat of hard primer and paint was then applied on
the outside, showing black and white quarters at the top of the little tanks to
identify the type of gas to be used and the tanks would now be internationally
recognised as containing breathing air. The Tadpoles each suitably
equipped with its own valve stem, were now ready for final pressure testing.
Meanwhile, lengths of war surplus gas mask tubing were attached to the
outlet and inlet ports of the demand valve to bring air to the mouthpiece
and a couple of little poppet non return valves were fitted in to the tubes,
one to allow air to exit and the other to allow to enter! The equipment now
began to take on the look of a professional piece of gear after it had been
chrome plated and polished at the Egg & Veg Factory as Evershed &
Vignoles was affectionately known. It really looked very impressive, perhaps
even more surprisingly, it looked like something a diver might actually use!

18

Step by step, with the collective assistance of the resourceful Formans

Association, the project began taking shape as news of the exciting project
permeated throughout the Chiswick Factory. My personal standing began
increasing by leaps and bounds. It appeared that half the Evershed &
Vignoles staff had somehow volunteered to involve themselves in Project
Aqualung in one way or another and people began stopping to read the little
bulletins posted up on the company Notice Boards dotted around the factory,
each assistant eagerly awaiting the daily progress reports!
I found that drawing office staff had taken it upon themselves to make
finished layouts or what they called onion skins of completed parts of
the valve. Engineers were involving themselves in complicated leverage
calculations and the physics of the internal air pressures and flow rates. I
never failed to be amazed at the inquisitive nature of so many people who
wanted to become a part of this new and exciting hobby! It was as if we were
reviving the old war time spirit of helping each other to overcome some form
of adversity or some insurmountable problem. Everyone seemed to want a
part of the action. It was at this stage in the proceedings that I was introduced
to a guy who worked at the famous Wilkinson Sword factory which wasnt
too far from my own works in Chiswick. I cant remember what I owned that
he actually lusted for, but I do remember that during our discussions he
happened to mention that he specialised in making ceremonial swords! I
couldnt believe my luck and before long, wed arranged a deal which
suited us both... I remember that I passed over an early transistor radio Id
built and he agreed to make me the shaft and a finished blade for my diving
knife if I could provide him with a thick rod or bar of silver steel, which of
course presented me with little difficulty. It didnt take him more than a few
days to present me with a work of beauty! The 12 inch knife blade was
beautifully smooth with a scalloped edge on one side and a long, groove
milled down its length. It was finished and ready for fitting to a handle.
The blade was as pure and unblemished as any ceremonial sword and I was
absolutely thrilled to bits! I bought some plaster of Paris, a couple of
cardboard boxes and some plasticine and I shaped a handle by working it
around the haft of the knife. I then laid the shaped handle in one side of the
box of Plaster of Paris before the plaster set hard. I then repeated the process
with the other box... Somehow, more by luck than design, I ended up with a
cast of two halves of a knife handle which I finished off with a small
modelling knife. I then made both sides of the plaster moulds in their boxes
fit together, put the haft down inside the whole thing and simply poured a mix
of yellow coloured Araldite in to the box after Id sealed any small openings,
I then simply let nature or physics take its own course. Next day I was
pleasantly surprised to find that the handle was as hard as rock and looking
every bit as professional as the real thing after Id filed off the moulding
edges. I lovingly polished the yellow coloured Araldite and eventually ended
19

up with a thing of considerable beauty if I do say so myself! I finished the

whole ensemble by making the knife sheath out of what was described as
Neoprene Insert which I guess is neoprene with a canvass material inserted
throughout, making it very strong indeed. I completed the sheath with
polished copper rivets to hold it firmly together and introduced the polished
knife in to it, which of course fitted like a glove!
I made myself a quick release buckle for my weight belt at this stage. It was
made of brass, something along the lines of the newly introduced car seat
belts but with my own innovative idea of a chunk of powerful magnet to hold
the flap or lever down. It was a pretty straightforward job to make the thing
fit together, but I had a slight problem with the magnet. I carefully attached
the magnet to the brass by silver soldering the whole assembly, which was
simplicity itself. However, nobody told me that when magnets are heated up
to that sort of temperature, the whole thing becomes a piece of metal no
more, no less as it passes what is called the curie point! I remember that after
some very frustrating learning sessions, I eventually overcame the problem by
making a special, high current magnetising jig to re-magnetising the whole
thing after it had been assembled. It worked rather well and it certainly
looked smart, but the manufacturing difficulties were a little more than Id
bargained for I have to admit. I actually sent the finished item to a car seat
manufacturer to see if they were impressed but I can report that they
werent!
Further hurdles had to be overcome before the various items were to come
together to complete the aqualung. First, the beautifully prepared air tanks
had to be pressure tested before any air could be introduced and again, my
contacts at the Seibe Gorman factory came up trumps. My friend arranged for
my air tanks, looking rather splendid in their black and white livery, to be
certificated as capable of safely holding the test pressure for the prescribed
time without either bursting or what is referred to as showing a measured set
in the metal as evidence of expansion after the pressure has been reduced!
They complained bitterly about the tanks having been painted at the time,
reporting back that they usually preferred pressure containers to be cleaned
before they would test them, but these were so beautifully prepared that they
were loath to sandblast them clean again! The Seibe Gorman factory also
provided the initial charge of medically clean air at 1800lbs per square inch,
suitable for breathing and free from any hint of contaminating oil or other
chemicals. Thus, Seibe Gorman staff, probably the worlds leading
professionals in underwater technology at the time, unwittingly played a
pivotal role in my future diving adventures! The staff at Evershed & Vignoles
had also ensured that things were coming together at a steady pace as various
pieces of equipment began to fit together. Of course not a single item from
diving mask, right down to the ex-Italian Navy swimfins, had been tested or

20

adjusted to fit me and it was with some trepidation that I finally donned the
whole motley collection of home-made bits and pieces at the Club poolside.
Breathing air from an aqualung on the surface is one thing and my unit
worked very well, but the home built demand valve proved not to be the
instant success or the engineering masterpiece Id intended. It became crystal
clear to me within the first few choking moments that the equipment was in
fact a total disaster. For starters, my lungs were unable to drag enough air
from the device at anything below 3 feet, which meant that the leverage
system needed attention. At the same time copious amounts of water were
leaking through into the diaphragm situated between the two halves of the
steel valve housing. I knew at once where the problem lay and quickly
decided that a solution would be fairly straightforward. First, the leverage
system that operated the diaphragm supplying the high pressure stage to the
large inlet chamber was poorly set. The lever required a simple adjustment to
the various pivot holes I had already considered and catered for in the final
design. The second and more difficult problem however, appeared to be one
of a more serious nature which could only be cured by another visit to the
Horizontal Grinding machine at Egg & Veg! The two halves of the machined
valve housing had not been finally coupled together as a tightly fitting pair
before the neoprene diaphragm had been enclosed, which simply meant that
water was leaking through an imperfect joint. The solution was to re-grind the
surfaces and ensure that the gasket was gas tight before the two halves of the
valve body were clamped together!
The next weeks saw the valve undergoing gradual fine tuning, the tests
always guaranteed to attract a crowd of onlookers whom one could almost see
taking mental, if not practical notes! Still, although the weekly adjustments
saw the valve airtight and watertight, it was still a devil of a job to suck air
through it despite numerous adjustments to the leverage system. It seemed to
be an insurmountable problem to me, as a non Engineer. However, I was
determined not to enlist the aid of any pseudo academics and vowed to make
it my project without too much outside interference. It seemed to me that as
I arranged the leverage system to deliver air at the touch of a vacuum [or
suck!] in the low pressure stage, the contraption simply continued to blast air
of its own accord when underwater... When the pressure of the ambient
surrounding water was applied to the diaphragm in the low pressure side
[open to the water] the lever system simply set off the delivery of high
pressure air through the tiny high pressure orifice delivering air at 1800psi,
which just wouldnt stop after it had started! If I adjusted the lever system to
stop this I found it difficult to breath below water and I just couldnt find a
happy medium. The damned thing had a mind of its own!
I finally cured the problem after I made a chance remark about the problem to
the friend at Seibe Gormans. He asked me if I had considered fitting
21

something called a venturi chamber and explained the concept to me in

some detail... In essence, it meant building small brass inner chamber around
the tiny high pressure inlet jet of the device and taking a small pipe back in to
the convoluted gasmask tubing where the instant blast of air caused a vortex
or vacuum in the tube and this had the effect of taking over the difficult job of
actually sucking. That at least was the theory... I built the chamber and
practised my skill at fine silver soldering before introducing the new
development in to the valve. After Id fitted the modification I reduced the
leverage system to ensure it would not operate under ambient water pressure
and I set off in high hopes to the pool... Amongst a crowd of eager onlookers,
I gradually let myself down into the water and breathed comfortably for the
first time with my very own home-made equipment. The venturi assisted
modification did exactly as the engineer described, causing the planned
vortex effect in the tube. It instantly took over part of the work of my own
breathing effort almost before Id sucked on the thing and I spent the next ten
minutes at the bottom of the deep end of the pool bathing in the warm glow of
success. Later, I spent a long time pondering upon the design and how or
what had prompted the engineer to dream up the modification. Similar and far
more sophisticated modifications were introduced to later designs of the
popular Sealion valve and they too worked very well indeed. Fate, in the
guise of a chance discussion about the problem with that knowledgeable
Sieibe Engineer had ensured that a tiny modification would provide a solution
to what had become a major problem in the scheme of things. But for this
chance meeting, my future diving might have been drastically changed or
stopped dead in its tracks at that point in time...
With the excellent B.S.A.C. training, and some uneventful but very
interesting sea dives under my belt, I began to explore more and more of the
English coastal regions for the next few years, particularly around the
coastline of Dorset, Devon and of course Cornwall, where tiny coves had
rarely seen a diver and the animals were inquisitive and friendly.
I gained experience and explored the waters of the United Kingdom, joining
members of other Diving Clubs on their outings or to make up the numbers
when Fishing Boats had been hired for expeditions. Those early days were
carefree and great fun. The absence of oppressive rules and regulations
around the coastline allowed me to explore an amazing number of wrecks and
untouched dive sites. Almost every dive produced a Porthole, a Ships lamp or
some piece or other goodie and I was fortunate enough to be able to donate
many trophies to friends! This exciting period also began to produce a
collection of like-minded, experienced and competent divers, along with one
or two budding entrepreneurs who could always be found close by whenever
a new wreck was found!
It was about this time, at the end of the freewheeling 60s, that I left the old
firm and moved up to Hatfield to live. Id been temporarily living in an idyllic
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spot in an old Cottage on a quaint little Bridge that spanned the river Ouse at
Felmersham, about 10 miles north of Bedford, but the journey to work was
some 70 miles each way to the Egg & Veg Factory in Chiswick, a very long
and tiring journey had to be made each day, down the M1 motorway and
around Londons North Circular Road each way!
Something obviously had to go, and it did. I left my old Firm to join my new
wife and buddy diver Dinah to live in Hertfordshire where we bought a small
house. Dinah started work as a Library Assistant at the nearby Polytechnic at
just about the time a new Diving Club was formed by a few keen sporting
students. The Club was being organised and funded by the Students Union,
but lectures and a formal training regime was actually funded by the
Hertfordshire County Council. A part time lecturer in Practical Diving &
Physiology had been engaged and a course of evening lectures was being
given by the highly qualified BSAC Instructor. Before long however, the
continuity of the training began to pose a few problems for our instructor for
it appeared that he was finding it difficult to cope with his work as Regional
Coach of the British Sub Aqua Club plus his normal day to day
responsibilities, which I guess is where I came on to the scene... Dinah soon
let it be known among the Physical Training hierarchy at the College that she
was married to a diver of some experience with a few years under his
belt. The incumbent lecturer, welcoming this opportunity of being allowed
to concentrate on his full time career, immediately vacated his own position
and pushed me to the fore! After a couple of weeks in which I was observed
putting the Students through their paces in the classroom, the College
hierarchy let it be known that I was accepted and at this point I was asked to
take over the post of Lecturer and of course I accepted!
About the same time, I also found myself a position with an Electronics
Company producing Television Studio equipment in the small country town
of Ware, just a few miles away from home... Things were indeed looking up!
I had a new job with Rank Cintel in almost the same position Id recently
abandoned and Id been asked to fill a part time paid job lecturing in the
evenings. Id also been privileged to meet Peter Cornish, who was to play an
important role in my future diving experiences within the small group divers
already beginning to gel together as a team.
I guess Peter Cornish would always have emerged as a natural leader.
Powerfully built, with a magnetic personality and boyish charm, his diving
and organisational ability quickly began to show itself as he formulated one
crazy, dangerous and exciting scheme after another. He was already a leading
light in the Hampstead Club, one of the oldest and most highly respected
clubs in the U.K. and he also happened to have been the previous Lecturer of
our group at the Hatfield Polytechnic!

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