Dive Report: Rhein Hamburg Date: Friday June 23, 2000 Boat: NautiGal Captain: Jeff Hunter By: Mike Rodriguez A team of four AUE divers arrived at the boat late in the afternoon on Thursday. We loaded the boat and went to dinner in Ft. Myers Beach then headed back to the boat to get some sleep before our departure. We were awakened around 3am as the captain arrived and prepared to leave the dock. The ride out to the wreck took several hours in flat seas; by mid-morning we were at the Rhein Hamburg. The Rhein Hamburg was a 450 foot long German freighter built in 1926. It was in Mexico when World War II broke out and was sunk by the Dutch Navy sloop Van Kinsbergen and the British cruiser Caradoc in the Florida Straights when it attempted to run for Germany. The ship settled upright and intact on a clean, sandy bottom 250 feet down. With some effort we were able to secure the coordinates for the wreck and get a ride out there. The wreck had been discovered several years ago by Billy Deans, a well known Florida technical diver. He and his team dove the wreck several times and recovered the ship's bell a decade ago. No other divers since have been to this wreck, so we were fortunate and privileged to have had the opportunity to dive it. We reached the site and found the huge wreck on the bottom finder almost immediately, then we anchored the boat. Conditions were wonderful. The visibility was over 120 feet. The water right at the surface was very warm at 86F. A foot or so below the surface the temperature dropped to 76F. I hung off the back of the boat with a snorkel watching the two strata swirl and mix behind the boat in the moderate one knot current. Numerous barracudas swim up from below to see what all the commotion was about. Most hung around by our anchor line swimming into the current. Lots of other fish, especially jacks, also showed up. After a while I boarded the boat for a light breakfast, then the team prepared to dive. I was diving trimix 16/47/37 with 50% and 100% oxygen for decompression. When everyone was ready, the four of us dropped into the cobalt-blue water together and started down the anchor line. The current remained moderate - around one knot all the way down. At about 50 feet I could make out the vague outline of the wreck and by 100 feet I could see it clearly. The hook was slightly to stern of amidships. I was impressed by the incredible visibility. I could see about 150 feet of the ship in both directions. The huge ship is heavily overgrown. Much of the superstructure has collapsed leaving bulkheads fallen in all directions. Portholes and other artifacts litter the wreck. Most are just laying in the sand or on the wreckage unattached. I swam toward the stern and saw the masts laying on the deck, then I passed what looked like a bathtub. At the stern I turned around and swam forward past the wheelhouse again. One of my buddies was working on digging up a porthole lodged under a bulkhead. Another found a really nice glass fresnel lens from one of the running lights. It was a glass cylinder with a diameter of about eight inches and about six inches long. I could see that he was at a loss as to how to recover the unwieldy artifact. Then he took off one fin, stuck his foot through the lens, and put his fin back on. It was a creative solution to the problem of how to transport the artifact. I giggled and continued forward. Near the bow, I dropped into the large, dark cargo holds. From the top of the hold my light didn't penetrate all the way to the bottom; the water just went black beneath me. I dropped a little deeper into the darkness and noticed the visibility in the hold was poor; there was a rusty dust suspended in the water. I finally reached the bottom and looked up at the beams that crossed the holds. There were bundles of colorful soft coral draped down off the beams like hanging ivy plants. It was a beautiful sight. The gang nicknamed this part of the ship the "Greenhouse". I exited the hold and was surprised by a big jewfish that was hovering at deck level. Apparently, the jewfish was also surprised and thumped at me as it took off in the opposite direction. My time was almost gone, so I headed back to the anchor line and rallied with all the other divers. We did a head-count and started up the line. Decompression was tricky since we were still anchored and the current was a bit too strong to comfortably do a free-swimming deco; we all had to hold on to the line. With four of us on nearly the same schedule, we started to bunch up at the shallow stops. We all had jon-lines, which helped, but it was still a little crowded. Back on the boat we had a light lunch, then prepared for the second dive. The captain entertained himself by fishing and managed to catch several nice fish. At one point he caught a large amberjack but before he could get it to the surface, it got chewed up by the barracudas. Since the fish was dead anyway, he teased the barracudas with it. It was impressive (and a little scary) to watch the large barracudas open a huge mouth full of sharp teeth and with almost no effort slice off chunks of the jack's flesh. It made me thankful that humans are not on the preferred meal list for these impressive predators. As the captain continued to tease the barracudas, one of my buddies and I jumped into the water behind the boat with a mask and snorkel to get a better view. My buddy shot video of the feeding frenzy as I watched. We stayed close to the ladder in case a quick egress became necessary, but the barracudas were more interested in the jack than in us. The jack was totally devoured within a few minutes. I boarded the boat to remix my leftover gas for the second dive. A few minutes after we started the compressor, a pod of dolphins showed up apparently curious about the noise. Immediately I grabbed mask, fins, and snorkel and jumped in the water for a look. The dolphins looked genuinely surprised to see anyone swimming around out there. One kept looking at me just out of arms-reach. It would turn toward me, probably pinging my body, then turn sideways to me to get a better view, then turn toward me again. It repeated the cycle several times as it tried to figure out what in the world I was. After a few minutes, the pod began to move away. My buddy grabbed his video camera and joined me in the water, then we swam out after them for a while. We managed to keep up somewhat but they were swimming down current and we didn't want to get too far from the boat. About a quarter mile from the boat we finally gave up and swam back. Swimming back in the very clear water in bright sunshine was almost as much fun as diving. We could see about 150 feet down through the water; there were no fish anywhere away from the boat. As we got close to the boat, though, barracudas would suddenly appear darting up from the bottom directly toward us apparently attracted to the sound of us swimming on the surface. To them, we probably sounded like injured fish - an easy meal. As soon as they saw us, they'd veer away and head back down. We finally made it back to the boat and boarded to prepare for the next dive. Everyone geared up and we jumped back in the water and headed down the line. The current had slacked off by this time and was very light. The visibility was still a spectacular 120 feet! When we reached the wreck we were surrounded by fish of all kinds. There hadn't been that many on the first dive, maybe due to the current. I wanted to take another look at "The Greenhouse" and swam forward to the holds. One of my scavenger buddies spotted a porthole and immediately attacked it. He sent it up the anchor line on a liftbag. On my way forward I stopped at several openings and briefly entered the ship. I didn't go far in as the ship has been down a long time without visitors, and I was concerned that something might collapse on me. I swam farther forward, then dropped into the holds. I hung out there for several minutes looking up at the beautiful sight then I rose to the deck and dropped to the sand where I swam aft looking at the hull. The hull was buckled at several spots, but I couldn't find a spot that was clearly the cause of the sinking. On the way aft, I saw a sea turtle swimming by in the distance. I wanted to get a closer look, but it was too far and it was swimming away from the ship, so I didn't try. At the stern, I ran into another big jewfish. I wanted to take a close look at the rudder, but the jewfish was right next to it. I swam slowly toward the fish hoping it would move and it did. I continued getting closer and the fish finally had enough, thumped at me, and took off along the starboard side of the ship. I swam to the rudder and saw it and the area around it was heavily encrusted with sea life. My time was almost up so I returned to the anchor line where one of my buddies was freeing another porthole. I helped him pull it out of the wreckage then he hooked up a lift bag and swam the assembly to the anchor line to began his ascent. I stayed on the ship for several more minutes, then my buddy and I did a head-count, unhooked the anchor, and headed up the line. During decompression the captain worked to get our portholes off the line and into the boat. We had a porthole on a Carter liftbag and another on a Halcyon. The Halcyon split a seam near the surface and started back down the line. The Carter accidently filled with water as the captain tried to deal with the Halcyon and also started back down the line. My buddy who was shallowest on the line felt the catch sliding back down the line and managed to snag the Carter liftbag, but was unable to grab the Halcyon. He refilled the Carter and sent it up again as I grabbed the Halcyon and refilled it. Unfortunately, the split seam in the Halcyon got worse and it took a lot of gas to coax it back to the surface. Eventually we managed to get all the artifacts aboard the boat. The whole thing was rather funny as the portholes kept going up and down the line like a porthole conveyor-belt and made for a few laughs later that evening over dinner. Decompression was uneventful and, for me, enjoyable for a change due to the outrageously clear water. I think the visibility improved to 200 feet or more by the time we reached our shallow deco stops. We were unhooked from the bottom, so there was no current and I was able to swim around the team as if flying. It was wonderful! When everyone finally made it back aboard the boat, the team gathered around to admire the artifacts we'd recovered - two portholes, one with glass, a *really* cool fresnel lens from one of the running lights, and numerous other thing-a-ma-jigs. One of the video guys rewound his tape and we gathered around the tiny screen to watch the dive unfold. The captain stowed the anchor line and we made good time to our next destination, the Araby Maid, which we'd dive the following morning. Once there we set anchor, cleaned up, and had dinner. The captain spent a little time fishing and caught several nice mutton snapper and amberjack, though it was a constant struggle to get them on the boat before the barracudas got to them. Later in the evening, we relaxed out on deck in the warm breeze. We looked up at the Milky Way under dark skies which I especially enjoyed since one of my other too-expensive hobbies is amateur astronomy. The first day of our three-day trip had been a great success and we looked forward to more spectacular diving on virgin and rarely-visited wrecks over the next two days. Tired but contented from the busy day we headed to our bunks early and were asleep in no-time. I dreamed of diving.