It's Sunday night. As I stand in my garage and wait for the dog to perform her evening duties, I mentally run through my checklist of gear for the next few days of diving. My truck has been packed since Saturday and I've added the remaining odds and ends for this week's trip to the load throughout the day. Gasses have been analyzed and double-checked, primary and spare equipment inspected, SAT phone initiated and EPIRB packed. I would be meeting Harry early Monday morning to load his boat and head to the Vineyard where we would be joining Marcie and Gary. If the Weather Gods allowed, and winds and seas were favorable, we would be off to dive the Doria at the crack of dawn on Tuesday aboard Marcie's vessel SeaDuctress.
 

  What two guys need for a couple of
 dives on the Doria  

After an uneventful crossing to Oak Bluffs, Harry and I relaxed at a local waterfront restaurant and waited for Marcie and Gary to arrive. They were slated to be on the island a couple of days earlier, however, a death in Marcie's family forced her to work overtime to simply make it to the island on Monday. I don't know how she found the time or energy to get everything done for this trip, but she did. So; here we are, they are on their way, and the weather is forecast to be as good as anyone could hope for with calm seas and clear skies through Wednesday. I spent the last week with my fingers crossed while watching the weather. I was guarded and attempted to not even mention that we were planning to dive the Doria lest I jinx the trip. I was scheduled to dive her several times over as many years only to have the weather rear it's uncontrollable and tempestuous head to squash our plans. But this time we may just make it there.
 

The SeaDuctress arrived just in time for Marcie to catch the ferry back to Woods Hole and return with her truck and trailer full of gear. When she returned, we loaded equipment and gas from the trailer to the boat and then hit the rack in Harry's boat to try to get some sleep. But who could sleep? All the stories that I heard and books that I read,. . . the depth . . . danger . . . and death . . .damn, we're going to dive the Doria! Try to sleep with that on your mind.

Tuesday, 5:30 am, or "Oh dark-thirty" as Gary says, we joined Marcie and him to prepare to shove off. By 6:30 or so we were on our way. Marcie was at the helm. As she deftly maneuvered her nearly 40 foot vessel out of our slip and through the mooring field on this sleepy still morning in Oak Bluffs, Harry and I secured the few remaining pieces of gear on deck yet to be stowed while Gary toiled below decks. Once clear of the harbor and in good water Marcie turned over the helm to me so she could tend to some house keeping duties to see to it that our home for the next couple of days was readied for the 80 mile trek off shore. I got the relatively simple chore of keeping the boat on track while using the video-game like chart plotter. I just had to keep the little boat symbol on the "road" displayed on the GPS screen. "So easy a cave man could do it!"
 

We rounded the north-east tip of the Vineyard and headed south along the east side of the island and through Muskegate Channel, a narrow sluiceway barely a half of a mile wide bordered by dangerous shoal waters waiting to grab a vessel a mere four feet below the surface. On a calm day with good visibility, running through that area is no more difficult than getting across Boston Harbor. But, with an angry sea, out-going tide, and fog or darkness, it is an area to exercise extreme caution while navigating, if not avoid entirely. On this day it was a cake walk! Once into the open we had a straight shot to the Andrea Doria. At our current speed we would arrive within three hours. The only hazards to avoid were other vessels - of which none showed visually nor on radar, and whales. With calm seas forecast for the day, as well as the next few, we would be enjoying a steak dinner under the stars while sharing key moments of our dive on the Grande Dame with each other this evening!

I finally started to let myself believe that I would get the dive in this time when I noticed that the fuel gauges were at about 3/4 full. We had 40 miles to go and we used 1/4 of our fuel supply; according to the gauges and gauges on boats are notoriously inaccurate. A quick mental calculation of 40 miles per quarter, times four quarters is 160 miles . . . our exact planned round trip. But gauges on boats are usually inaccurate - I told myself again.

Each time I had a trip scheduled for this dive I would try to plan it as thoughtfully and completely as possible. "Plan your dive and dive your plan", the mantra that all divers must have indelibly inked in their consciousness in order to stack the odds in favor of making it back to the surface. Using the same rig configuration year after year - not as a gesture such as carrying a rabbits foot or wearing lucky socks - but to build muscle memory and automatic reflexes so that reaching for a particular piece of equipment is as thoughtless as inserting one's keys in the ignition of their automobile. Do dives in deeper and darker waters. Dive in current and on dives carrying all the gear needed for the "big dive" to merely practice. Get your head right. Know what you're doing, and why you're doing it.  Most importantly, know your limits. Be honest with yourself. I think it was Gary Gentile that said -  and forgive me if I paraphrase - "Unfortunately, most divers learn what their limits are once they pass them, and then it is too late". When asked what we planned to "bring back" from the wreck at a recent club meeting, Harry responded that he was bringing me back and I was bringing him back! Now that's the attitude that I want in a dive partner.

With the soothing drone of the engines serenading us, I could see Harry fighting sleep as his head would occasionally drop off of its balancing point. He would recover his posture with a quick flex of neck muscle. With a just a bit of fog, a mild and comfortable air temperature, and most fortunate of all; mill-pond calm seas, we were in for a couple special days of diving. To top it all off, I was with some of the best people possible to be diving this particular site. My friend and experienced Dive-Master and dive buddy Harry, who is the coolest and most relaxed person that I know in the water. He is among the only people that I can count on one hand that I would do a dive like this with. Marcie Bilinski, known for finding many, and diving the majority of wrecks in Massachusetts, as well as exploring caves and shipwrecks throughout the world. And Gary Gentile, the guy who "wrote the book(s)" on wreck, technical, and Doria diving, along with countless others. His dives on the Andrea Doria alone number in the hundreds! I was the rookie in the group with only 19 years of experience and less than 1000 dives. Who could ask to be in better company?

My eyes kept getting draw to those damn gas gauges. Like a driver not wanting to look at a wreck on the side of the highway but subconsciously drawn to it, I kept watching the gas gauges move steadily towards  1/2. Once we hit the half mark I asked Harry to let Marcie know what we were reading on the gauges and that we still had 20 miles to go before reaching the site. I assumed that he would let her know what was going on and would return in a moment to tell me not to worry, and that the gauges are known to be inaccurate. A moment turned to a minute, then several before he came to the helm and said that she wanted to talk to me. Not a good sign.

After a brief consultation with Marcie and Gary we realized that we had no choice but to turn around. In short, the vessel was burning much more fuel than it ever had in the ten years that Marcie owned her - by nearly twice. Never before had she carried the amount of weight that she was bearing on this trip. Apparently, all the extra weight drastically effected the hull's efficiency. At the rate we were using fuel we would have been about forty miles short of returning to Oak Bluffs. Fortunately, with some fuel utilized that was for the generator and a reduction in speed, we made it back to the harbor.

Disappointment does not begin to describe how we all felt. But hey, it is what it is! We are all well versed in the harsh reality that in wreck diving, some times your are not going to get wet. What was important was that we tried and no one got hurt. I look at it as that there is a reason for everything. Perhaps there was a reason that we should not dive on that day? I know that some may say that I am merely attempting to rationalize a mistake in planning. But who could have imagined that some extra weight would have so drastically effected vessel range. The boat has carried a substantial amount of weight in the past, including five divers and all their gear without a noticeable effect on its range. I guess we passed a tipping point with the weight that we had on that trip.

Even with the disappointment of not getting to dive the "Grande Dame", it was a fun week to be with friends on Martha's Vineyard. We did manage to get out and dive the Aransas and pick up some "artifacts" as well as a few bugs, including the largest lobster that my hands ever wrapped themselves around at about four pounds or so. On Thursday, Harry and I left the Island and headed home. Our slip was reserved only through that day and I had to be home Friday for a prior commitment. I will certainly be ready to try again next year.

NOTE: Harry returned to the island  on Friday evening to join Marcie, Gary, Jerry Cronin and his partner Mark. With extra fuel, redistribution of the weight and an adjustment in running speed, they made it out to dive the Andrea Doria on Saturday. A worsening sea state forced the decision not to dive on Sunday and they made it back after nine hours with fuel to spare. Congratulations Gal and Guys!