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Dive Report: Pan Massachusetts
Date: Saturday Morning June, 16, 2001
Boat: Selah
Captain: Mike Barnette, Mike Rodriguez
By: Mike Rodriguez
Four of the "Usual Suspects" arrived at the marina at Port Canaveral early Saturday
morning amid smoky conditions from the fires burning west of Cocoa Beach. The team
had been trying to dive the area for over a year but kept getting put off by bad
weather. Fortunately, several weeks of good weather opened up and we jumped on
the opportunity to dive the area wrecks including the Cities Service Empire from which
we recovered and are currently restoring the ship's bell and telegraph.
A local technical diver and friend graciously offered us the use of his boat, Selah, for
the weekend. We gratefully accepted the offer and were loaded and off the dock by
9am happy to be getting away from the nasty smoke. By late morning, and after the
partial failure of our electronic navigation system, we finally arrived at the site of a
mystery wreck frequented by local fishermen but never-before dived.
Local fishermen and others have speculated that the wreck may be the Elizabeth Massey, a British
freighter. Others call it the Copper wreck, possibly due to the color of some of the fish
caught there or maybe because it was supposed to be carrying a cargo of copper...
who knows. The team pretty much confirmed this weekend that the ship is actually the
456 foot long Pan Massachusetts. The tanker Pan Massachusetts was built in 1918; in
1942, the ship was torpedoed by the U-128 and became the first war casualty sunk
off the Florida coast during World War II.
Our dives in the area the previous two weekends had a "Nasty, Grungy Shit"
(NGS) layer of water from about 100 to 150 feet in which the visibility dropped to only a few
feet amid a lot of small particles and larger brownish globs. Visibility consistently
improved on the bottom, but the NGS layer obstructed much of the sunlight rendering
it dark and gloomy during the dive. Compounding things, a phenomenon known as an
"upwelling" has been affecting the entire east coast of Florida bringing very cold water
to the area along the bottom of the ocean. Surface temperatures are still around 84F,
but a few weeks before this dive I found 48F on the RBJ, a wreck off Pompano
Beach, Florida in 260 feet of water. Recent dives off Canaveral turned up
bottom temperatures consistently in the 50s. We figured it would be cold again on this dive and
we were right.
At the site, we ran a few search patterns and everyone smiled when the wreck painted
on the bottom finder. We spent several minutes trying to determine the orientation of
the wreck and when we were comfortable, the first team consisting of my buddy and
me geared up for the drop. A local fishing charter boat arrived at the site while
we were getting ready. We radioed them and they cooperated with us as we maneuvered
into position. Apparently, our recent antics have stirred up a lot of conversation among
the local diving and fishing charters, and all the boats we run into at these sites seem to
already know who we are and are full of questions. Our captain chatted with the other
boat while we got ready. On this dive I breathed trimix 13/55/32 with 50% heliox and
100% oxygen for decompression.
When we were in position, I grabbed the floatline and dropped into the water with
my buddy right behind me. We headed straight down into the gloom. At about 100 feet
the visibility dropped to only a few feet and it became dark and cold. I flipped on my
light and held it out to the side like a camera strobe to reduce the backscatter and
glare from the dirty water. It didn't help much in the 5 foot visibility. We continued down at
full speed and around 200 feet the visibility began to improve somewhat. Around 250
feet I changed my aspect ratio and spread out against the water to slow my descent,
then I started inflating my wings. The sandy bottom came into view when we reached
260 feet where we hovered and looked around for the wreck; the visibility had
improved to about 30 feet. I cupped my light to get a better view into the gloom and I
thought I saw a dark area to the east. It was too far to pull the line against the strong
surface current so, as planned, we released the line and swam east.
Unfortunately, the current took us past the object before we could reach it and after five minutes, we
ascended on a liftbag, did the required deco, and boarded the boat for another try. It
had been a while since I'd missed a wreck, so I was overdue and didn't mind too
much.
We lined up again and dropped back into the water. We passed the NGS layer and
were in-sight of the sand in less than two minutes. Once again, I saw the dark shape of
the ship in the distance only this time it was more distinct. We tried pulling the line
again, but gave up and let it go, then we swam to the wreck. We reached it right at
the bow; my buddy and I were the first humans to see the Pan Massachusetts since its
sinking in 1942. At first I couldn't quite make out what we were seeing, then I realized
the ship was turtled and we were looking at the bottom of the bow. The starboard
anchor is still pulled tight against the hull. The ship is covered in growth
with bunches of Oculina coral growing along its length. Any markings on the hull have long ago
vanished beneath the growing coral. We swam along the ship's starboard side and
drifted aft in the moderate current. I dropped to the sand and read 297 feet and 63F,
then I tried to look under the edge of the hull but it was too tight against
the sand. As we continued to drift aft, we reached a large opening in the hull where we could see
into the ship. The hole was irregular and was probably where a torpedo hit. Since this
was our first visit to this ship and since I'm very cautious about entering ships that
have never been visited by divers before (I've had enough ship parts fall on me for one
lifetime), we opted to stay outside and tour the length of the hull.
We swam aft along the hull, which lies northeast-southwest, admiring the huge ship.
The total length of the section we were on was about 300+ feet. Along the way we
passed numerous clumps of the stark white deep water Oculina coral attached to the
hull. There were also numerous bristle-worms living on the ship. We passed another
opening in the hull and noticed ladders running vertically along a bulkhead.
A big grouper came out of the hole to look at us as we drifted by, then he followed us to the
break near the stern of the ship where we drifted up to the keel and moved forward
again as our time ran out. My buddies and I dive together enough that we almost don't
have to communicate; we just looked at each other as our bottom timers ticked
off the last minute, and simultaneously let go and drifted off the wreck.
We did our deep stops in mid-water and as we got closer to the surface, we
shot liftbags and relaxed. As soon as my liftbag hit the surface, I heard the boat motor over
to us, though I couldn't see it through the murky water until we were quite shallow.
When we boarded the boat a while later, the other two divers were anxious to hear
what we found. We told them the ship was turtled, which discouraged them, but we
told them the dive was absolutely worth doing, so they started to gear up
while I drove the boat and rigged the floatball.
When we got back to the site, the fishing boat was gone, so I had plenty of space to
maneuver in. The second team got ready and I moved us into position, then they
dropped into the water. I watched them vanish below us and followed their bubble
trail. About 90 seconds later, a small wake developed behind the ball suggesting they
were now in the light bottom current and being pulled along by the strong
surface current. About three minutes after the drop, they tied into the wreck and the surface
current promptly took the large floatball underwater.
I remained near their bubble trail and when their planned bottom time was over, the
ball popped back up right on schedule. During their decompression, a big pod of over
a dozen dolphins passed us in a hurry. They seemed intent on getting somewhere;
although they passed right by the team in the water, they didn't even slow down and
vanished to the north within seconds.
The team was back aboard a while later excitedly talking about the dive and confirming
that the wreck was indeed the Pan Massachusetts. We wished we could do another
dive on the Pan Massachusetts the next day, but we'd already mixed for a second dive
to 240 feet on the Cities Service Empire. Since the Pan Massachusetts is at nearly 300
feet, we had no choice but to dive the Empire the following day and make plans
for a return trip.
We pulled in the floatline and I started us on the long ride back to Port Canaveral 30
miles away. We arrived late in the afternoon and after unloading the boat, the team got
cleaned up and headed out to dinner. What a great start to the weekend; we dove 300
feet into the ocean, were the first humans to see and positively identify the
historic WWII wreck of the Pan Massachusetts, and we still made it to dinner on the Cape
before the fresh fish ran out!
Copyright
© 2001 Mike Rodriguez. All rights reserved. |