Our story of a SCUBA dive made on a German submarine, the U-352, sunk during WWII continues by starting with our trip down to Morehead City, North Carolina, from Saginaw, Michigan.

I have made two trips down to Morehead City with two different groups of divers. The planned trip generally takes 19 hours of driving with rest and gas stops along the way. Of course, our trips took longer because of faulty land navigation. I made one trip with my twin brother, Greg, and his bunch of divers from Detroit Edison. The other trip was made with members of the Saginaw Underwater Explorers dive club. This S.U.E. club is the oldest dive club in Michigan. The following year I passed on the second trip down made by the club and was glad I did. They made the trip down without any of the guys turning on their cell phones. Shortly after they started out, the dive charter place in North Carolina called Saginaw to cancel the outing because of bad weather caused by an intense and lingering storm cell. Unaware of this news, the group made the trip down and back without getting to dive. Such is the nature of open water diving. You are always at the mercy of the weather.

Another element of these long drives on diving trips is the fatigue factor. Some of it is caused from the long hours in a vehicle and some from the physical exertion of the dives. When you factor in the long drive down, the two days of diving, and the lack of rest; the cumulative effects can make one extremely fatigued by the time you climb into the vehicle for the long almost non-stop drive home. The driver of one of our vehicles fell asleep around 4 AM on a steep mountainous curve and the guardrail was all that stopped the vehicle from plunging down a thousand foot drop. The spray of sparks as the vehicle slid along the guard rail looked like a special effect seen in the movies. Fortunately, no one was hurt.

Also, one member of our group was slightly burned when we stopped for dinner at a restaurant. A southern gentleman dropped a plate of hot food onto the sandaled foot of one of our divers. The waitress explained that they only did that to people they especially liked. The man apologized profusely.

After finally arriving in Morehead City, we checked in with the Olympus Dive Center with whom we had chartered our trip. They guided us to the dormitory-like bunkhouse where we would be staying for a couple of nights. That afternoon we examined and stowed our gear, checked out the dive boat, and did some sightseeing. (I went out to view Fort Macon, which was involved in a Civil War battle. From there I could see the site of an underwater archeological survey being done on the shipwreck of Blackbeard, the pirate.)

We arrived early the next morning at the dive boat filled with a sense of excitement. We were each assigned a head count number and briefed on the boat's procedures. The 65-foot-long steel hulled vessel was a converted North Sea crew boat for an oil platform. Sitting at the dock in calm water, the boat felt rock solid, and I expected a nice ride out. I was in for a surprise. After the 25 or so divers had boarded, we started out. We had a pleasant ride out of Beaufort Inlet. We were headed out to two wrecks located between Cape Fear and Cape Lookout. The first wreck we planned to dive was about 35 miles out and named the Papoose. It was about a two-hour ride out to the wreck and as we preceded more into the open ocean, things got rougher. After we passed the halfway point, we learned that small craft warnings had been posted-but we all wanted to keep going. Well, to be truthful, it was those of us that could talk that said that. The rest of the group was looking too green to talk or were already throwing up all over the deck and each other.

I didn't think a vessel that big could pitch and roll so badly. You had to hang on tightly to avoid being thrown off your bench seat. The boat was continually covered with saltwater spray and also some solid water. A good-sized cabin area was enclosed, but I felt worse when I went down inside. I did see a couple of lucky fellows asleep on the full-sized benches. A trip across the deck required careful timing and a helpful catch by your buddies. I remember lurching over to some fellow divers standing by the camera table. We all looked green but were trying bravely not to show it. I asked how everyone was feeling, and they all said okay. Just then a diver sitting next to me threw up all over the deck and my feet. That almost did the trick for me. I hurried back to my seat swallowing rapidly and tried to ignore the sights and sounds around me. Someone brought over a garden hose, and I washed off. I had been in 14-foot seas off Hawaii in a 50-foot wooden boat, and it never felt this bad. It probably was because we were maintaining about 18 miles per hour heading into the rough seas.

Eventually we reached the wreck site. We were alone with no other boats around. I overheard the captain mention that he would have turned around if he had known it was going to be that rough out there. But we were there and determined to dive. This wreck is known for the abundance of sand tiger sharks, and we all wanted to see them. After hooking into the wreck, the crew briefed us on the wreck and diving conditions. They warned us of the strong surface current and instructed us to hit the water and keep going down. If we dallied on the surface, we would be swept away from the boat and be adrift in the high seas. Many divers elected not to dive, but most of our group jumped in the water. The wreck lived up to its promises.

The Papoose was a tanker sunk by a German submarine on March 19, 1942. It lies inverted in 130 feet of water. The wreck was hard to discern as I made my way down because so many fish covered the wreck. However, what got my attention were the great numbers of sand tiger sharks cruising the wreck. They were from 8-10 feet in length and were all around me: above, beside, and below me. I quickly made my way down to stand on the bottom, because it felt more comfortable with no sharks swimming below me. When a couple of sharks cruised by inches away, I realized why they are also called ragged tooth sharks. Their teeth look thin and jagged, and there were so many of them it looked like they couldn't close their mouths. I eventually relaxed enough to start taking pictures. By swimming at a shark, I could get it to fill my camera's close-up lens before I snapped a shot. Then, I would blow bubbles out of my regulator, and the shark would turn away.

Next month we will continue our SCUBA dive on the U-352.

Copyright © 2005 Ron Burkhard