The island of Sark is arguably the least known and least visited of the Channel Islands. The lack of tourist infrastructure, the fact that the only means of transport is by foot, bicycle, tractor or horse and carriage, only serve to add to its appeal. Sark is a remote almost bizarre experience. Contrast it with the urban living on mainland Britain and it is a formula that will captivate anyone who sets foot on these shores.

Sark is Europe’s sole surviving feudal state; with its constitution dating back to the Elizabethan period. The hereditary ruler is the Seigneur (Michael Beaumont), 550 residents share this picturesque and currently tax free island. Sark is three miles in length by a mile and a half wide. Actually comprising two islands, Great Sark and Little Sark; it is joined by a thin isthmus called La Coupee. During the World War 2 period, Sark was occupied by the Germans. Whilst under their command enhancements were made to the island, including some well engineered tunnels, which can be seen at the fort to this day.

It is perhaps fitting that when the island was recaptured by the British the German prisoners of war were put to work in improving the bridge to allow a better connection between Sark and Little Sark. Sark has some amazing topography with an average height of 100 metres above sea level. The flora can be dazzling in its diversity with Spring showing off blue and yellow flowers. Set against secluded sandy beaches, huge cliffs, coves and caves; this is a channel destination without peers.

Diving from Sark embellishes what is already a special experience. In some ways one will be torn between taking an interest in the island itself and exploring its surrounding liquid world. In the company of Sark Diving Services run by Andy Leaman, we were fortunate to be able to complete five dives over a three-day period.

All the sites visited in the islands vicinity are destinations that are virtually unknown to even the most avid of UK divers. For this reason Sark’s popularity as a dive destination, can only grow and grow.

L’Etac

Our fist dive from Sark in late July took us to this underwater scenic reef SSE of Sark, some 20 minutes boat journey from the harbour. Whilst strong winds blew offshore, we benefited from the shelter of the lee of Sark itself. This allowed us to enjoy slight seas.
Descending through the water column, we met the seabed at a depth of 17 metres. This was a low energy zone where the tidal influence was slight. Kelp hung motionless and there was a calm to this area of the reef. Underwater visibility was about five metres. Setting our compasses for a south south-east heading, we finned for thirty metres or so until we found an underwater wall.

This dropped in a series of steps well beyond 40 metres.

Focusing our attention in the 25metre range, we drifted horizontally along the wall. capturing the points of interest, aided by torchlight.

Here in this high-energy zone, the tide could run to its full effect. Complementing these more agitated waters were jewel anemones of every colour imaginable, from purple to red, green to orange, pink to yellow. Meanwhile, wrasse swam dreamily between the craggy rock faces and the colourful sponges.

The rest of the dive entailed a slow ascent over a thirty-minute period until we had reached our entry point, some forty-eight minutes from when our dive had begun. The water, a comfortable17o c would easily have allowed a longer visit; but time was passing by. We reeled in our delayed surface marker buoy and were quickly retrieved by our charter boat.

The wreck of the Ooust Vlaanderen rests 2 ½ miles south of St Peter Port harbour in Guernsey and is a 40-minute boat journey from Sark. The vessel sank in 1943 and had a gross tonnage of 421 with hull dimensions 14.9’8 length laden with cement and guns whilst in convoy.

In a slight current we descended the shotline to a depth of 32 metres through what at first appeared to be below average visibility of 4 metres or so. Convinced that the rest of the dive would offer little better, we clipped a distance line to the main shot, which provided the means of an easy return.

With the tide offering no respite, it was an obvious decision to drop onto one of the many shallow holds of this upright vessel. Here there was not only shelter from the ceaseless tidal flow, but the most enormous number of pouting. Reminiscent of a fish farm pen, it was quite a spectacle to see how these fish had bundled themselves of their own free will.

Ducking under the beams allowed easy transfer from one hold to the next. Cloaked in a veil of brilliant white sand, afforded good light levels and the need for a torch was mitigated.

Turning our attention now to the upper decks, by gently finning, the bow was becoming ever closer. The tide had receded, visibility improved slightly and a brief period of slack water could be savoured. Passing the forward deck machinery was the last notable feature before dropping over the bow to gain a silhouette view.

Reeling in the distance line, we began the return leg, deviating a little from our outward journey. Dropping through a forward hatchway with the security of the line and reel for return was one highlight, as was a return visit to the ‘penned’ pouting. With thirty minutes elapsed it was time to take one last look before inching our way back to the surface via our polypropylene umbilical.

Piccadilly Commando Flying Fortress

Aircraft wrecks are very unusual in UK waters. They break up too easily and their fuselages are too thin to survive years of marine attrition.

Helped by its sheltered position, on the North East coast of Guernsey, the B17 Piccadilly Commando Flying Fortress has enjoyed less marine attrition than would ordinarily be the case.

The B17 Piccadilly Commando was returning from a bombing raid near Bordeaux, her ten mean crew had been joined by the addition of a photographer.

They took off at 7.30 am on December 31 1943, fully loaded and fuelled, weighing in at 30 tons. The aircraft had been in service since May that year but was already a veteran of many missions over Germany. The aircraft got into difficulty when it was damaged by flak close to the bombing site. An engine was lost, another damaged, as well as electrical systems and the oxygen supply. The B17 began to loose airspeed and altitude, but none of the crew was injured.

Gradually the B17 fell behind the rest of the formation. Above the Bay of Biscay more trouble ensued with an attack by the Luftwaffe. Another engine was lost and the craft began to rapidly loose speed and altitude and fuel. In a desperate attempt to remain airborne, the crew dumped anything and everything to reduce the payload and stem the rapid descent. A final burst of enemy gunfire sent Piccadilly Commando into the choppy sea, just before 4pm.

Miraculously, all eleven survived. Occupying forces rescued them, so their freedom did not arrive until after the war. Another B17 that endured a similar fate in the Channel Island waters did not offer the same protection; only two of the crew survived.
We arrived at this site after an hour’s journey from Sark. Following the shot line to the seabed some 19m below was a strenuous affair, due to the pull of the tide.

How you moved around the wreck site was dictated by the tidal stream. Sheltering in the lee of obstructions that stood proud, allowed ample detailed observation. Juvenile fish had made the nooks and crannies their homes and probably deserved attention all of their own.

The light levels were excellent at this depth, enhanced by the reflective sand. The remaining aluminium spars of the fuselage, wings and cockpit were plain to see. So were the remains of a propeller blade, which stood, proud, but buckled. A wheel casing lay hidden deep in the sand, whilst a little further away the massive remains of the B`17’s rubber fuel tank lay partially buried. Its appearance even so, is very abstract, so making sense of what is being viewed may need to be discussed upon one’s return to the surface. The tide had now slackened off but with 40 minutes having elapsed, it was time to return to the shotline and slowly ascend.

The Forth Wreck

A forty-five minute boat journey from Sark the wreck rests adjacent to an area known as The Humps north of Herm Island.

The Forth was a three masted schooner built in Glasgow in 1862. She had a single steam engine and iron screw and was constructed in 1890 and registered in Middlesbrough, from where she was traveling with a cargo of pig iron bound for St Malo under the command of Mr. Frederick Brandt. The weather was fine and clear with a light SSW when they left on 3rd August and all was well until two days later when they were south of Alderney. The weather became dull and hazy that evening and by 8.45pm the engines were put to dead slow as a dense fog set in. The master calculated that they were to pass about 4 or 5 miles west of Sark but instead she went further to the south and west. At 4am on the 6th August, she struck the Longue Pierre Rocks. All efforts to move her were in vain. Water was pouring into the holds and the vessel was sinking. All hands took to the boats and the steam whistle was sounded continuously which bought the local pilot boat to the scene. They stayed alongside until 7am when the Forth slipped off the rocks and sank stern first until just her mastheads were visible. The crew was all taken safely ashore. At the enquiry the court found that the loss of the Forth was the fault of the master alone and he was severely censured for the course he steered and the irregularity with which he took depth soundings. However, in his favour, the difficulty of determining the tide and the currents around the Channel Islands in dense fog was taken into account and Frederick Brandt managed to avoid loosing his master’s certificate

The site had already been marked with a buoy so locating and descending onto the wreck was a simple affair, helped by a slight sea. Testimony to how infrequently these wreck sites were visited was that with every clutch of the shot line on the descent, a cloud of marine debris atomized through the water column.

At 19m the sandy seabed was in full view. Rising above us were the heavy black timbers of this once solidly constructed vessel. Perched like columns they supported the remaining carcass against the background of an emerald green sea. Finning to the stern which lies on its port side, presented the wreck in one of its best lights with plenty of evidence of the vessel’s formerly orderly geometry. The occasional distraction of a colourful cuckoo wrasse, fan corals, sea squirts, Devonshire cup corals or a curious conger eel were all that could steal ones gaze from this fascinating wreck. Finning underneath the vessel, not as foolhardy as it sounds, as there are plenty of exit points; revealed a magnificent silhouette of the Forth, as one looked up. Moving on to the midships region, the boiler lay on the seabed a short distance from the main wreck.

By now the tide was beginning to accelerate. Not being our first dive in Channel Island waters, we knew that its tempo would pick up very quickly. Locating the base of the shot line was helped by the five-metre visibility and the sandy seafloor, which provided plenty of ambient light.

After a slow ascent and a brief safety stop we returned to the surface.

Our last dive from Sark was from the south-east end at a site named Les Vinght Clos.
From here we dropped into a sandy gulley some 18m below. Either side of us stood two imposing walls which rose at their tallest, to within 6m of the surface. Choosing the level to drift at gave plenty of options as to what to observe. Jewel anemones, sponges, wrasse, crabs, provided a colourful conclusion to our Sark visit. We had a distinct feeling that we had only scratched the surface of what this region has to offer.

Many tourist briefs talk about Sark being laid back. Speaking from a diving perspective the effort to locate the site, judge the tides, provide an itinerary to suit the attendant group, have all the air cylinders charged and ready; hide from the wind and shelter from sometimes swollen seas is anything but.

Sark has become expert at making your visit seem effortless, but be assured, behind the scenes they have worked long and hard to make one’s visit a success. With so many more sites to visit, the fact that Sark itself deserves attention of its own left us feeling that a return visit was virtually mandatory.