THERE IS SOMETHING about a big copper diving helmet with a brass-lined faceplate that sends signals to the danger and excitement areas of the brain – a reaction you seldom get when you see modern diving equipment. Maybe it's the instant flashback to
films where helmeted heroes fight off villains amidst streams of air bubbles, or some leviathan of the deep has to be grappled with before the air supply runs out.
Whatever the reason, it led to Orkney-based diver Andrew Hamill realising the potential in providing that Jules Verne moment for people looking to experience a new challenge.
The aptly named Leviathan International, which he runs with partner Lesley Clark, offers "original 19th-century hard-hat diving" in Stromness. During the summer season, diving tourism brings a constant stream of visitors from across the globe, with dive boats taking groups out to experience the unique attractions of Scapa Flow.
"After they've explored the wrecks of scuttled First World War German battleships, divers can round off an exciting day with the chance to try something different," says Hamill. "So far as I know, we are the only company in Europe to offer hard-hat diving in open water."
The experience certainly generates a healthy respect for the divers of yesteryear. As well as the heavy helmet and neck collar, hard-hat divers have to hang a series of weights on to a bulky canvas and rubber suit. Eighteen pounds of lead on your back, 20 pounds on your chest, and another 20 on each boot ensures that you won't be trying out any complicated underwater manoeuvres.
A 35 metre air hose connecting you to a hand-operated pump on the surface effectively stops any overambitious moves along the sea bed – though one local diver, wearing just such a suit, walked underwater for the entire length of the Churchill barriers during the Second World War. The diver, Sandy Robertson, who died last year at the age of 98, was none the worse for that experience, or indeed, any of the hair-raising challenges he undertook while working in Scapa Flow for the legendary 20th-century salvage company Cox & Danks.
Sandy took great pride in challenging present-day commercial divers to even attempt the type of work he and his workmates had carried out as a matter of course.
He believed that the "flimsy" equipment used today wouldn't have stood a chance when you were asked to twist 9in hawsers into the 100-ton shackles needed for lifting destroyers. One-hundred pounds of pressure on your drill when you were boring holes for the airlocks meant that if that stuck and was thrown back you needed a pretty tough suit.
Present-day diver and boat skipper James Brown grew up with such tales. His grandfather was employed alongside Sandy as a diver with Cox & Danks, and when Leviathan International introduced hard-hat diving he jumped at the chance to find out for himself what it was like in the old helmeted suit – totally dependant on the constant supply of air being pumped by colleagues through a length of thin rubber tubing.
"I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, though of course I was doing it just for pleasure in controlled conditions in a quite shallow and very safe place," he says. "I can appreciate how hard it was for these guys working as commercial divers out in the Flow three-quarters of a century ago.'
His grandfather wasn't so fortunate as Sandy Robertson.
"Grandad spent three days freeing 12 tons of chain and 12 tons of wire from a propeller shaft with a hacksaw, hammer and chisel. He got the job done but he strained his heart and had to give up diving."
James discovered that hard-hat diving wasn't anything like as scary as his childhood imaginings had led him to believe. Once you adjust the balance between weights and airflow, and understand the workings of the "dump valve" in the helmet, it's reasonably straightforward. There is even communication with the surface. "That's not a modern thing, it was even on the go in grandad's day. You pushed the communicating line open with your chin and you could speak."
Hamill reckons the whole procedure is safe enough for complete novices to have a go. "We advertise that non-divers are welcome – you obviously have to be fit and healthy, but anybody can do it once it's all explained. We do a full briefing beforehand and nobody's deep enough for there to be any problem getting straight back up to the surface should anything go wrong."
It pays to pick your friends carefully. They're usually the people turning the hand pump for your air supply while you're under the surface with 80 pounds of lead hanging off you. A woolly hat is essential – it's traditionally a red one – as it stops your head being banged silly when you tip it back to release the water dumping valve in your suit.
The whole olde worlde diving experience will cost you £40, and it's proving so popular that you have to book. Once you're kitted out you can stay down as long as you like (though it's very hard work). Back on dry land there's a smart certificate and photographic proof that you've done it. Definitely a day out with a difference. sm
• For more information, tel: 01856 851002, or visit
www.leviathan-int.comThe full article contains 915 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
