The vast sums of money being expended on the Russian war effort meant that in June 1916 Field Marshall Earl Kitchener of Khartoum was despatched to inform the Russians that Britain was not a bottomless pit of finance. The 'Hampshire' received her sailing orders on 4th June. She was to proceed to Archangel in Northern Russia, a journey of 1,650 miles, on a route that would take her past the east side of Orkney which had recently been swept for mines. At latitude 62° she would proceed alone, zig-zagging to avoid torpedo attack.
On June 5th, however, the weather worsened, the plan was changed and it was decided to send the convoy on to the west of the island. The fateful decision made, the Hampshire slipped her mooring buoy and cleared the harbour around 4.40pm. By 6.30pm the destroyer escort signalled that they could not keep up and so the Hampshire allowed them to return and continued on alone.
An hour later she was dipping and crashing in the teeth of the storm, making only 13 knots as the sea raged around her. At 7.40pm a rumbling explosion rocked the whole of the ship tearing a huge hole in her keel between bow and bridge. She immediately began to settle in the water. The after hatch to the quarter deck was opened and as the crew streamed out an officer was heard to call 'make way for Lord Kitchener'. He passed by clad in a greatcoat and went up the after-hatch, just in front of one of the survivors. He was last seen standing on the deck of the Hampshire and it can be assumed he went down with the ship.
Our Scapa '98 trip began with the long and tedious 8 hour drive to Scrabster from North West England. On arrival we booked into the hotel and then the festivities began with our annual pre-dive get-together. As you would expect the ferry crossing to Stromness was not enjoyable and everyone was in a delicate state.
After consultation with skipper John Thornton (from Scapa Technical), we unpacked the trailer and set up our kit with the wreck of the Hampshire in mind. We waited with eager anticipation for the day of the dive. An early start and we were awoken by the dulcet tones of 'Uncle Ken' who provided tea for everyone, which was gratefully received. Aboard the boat the engines started on cue and we were off in search of the final resting place of Lord Kitchener.
The wreck of the Hampshire lies in 65 metres of water off the west coast of Orkney. You need luck and prayers to make a successful dive in these parts, as the weather is unpredictable. 'Lady Luck' was indeed on our side on this particular day, for which we were all grateful. The shot was prepared and launched, followed by the dive team, which consists of many different characters from varying walks of life. Amongst them there is a Danish finance director, a back packing 'Jesus look-a-like', a follically challenged Iraqi and a fifty year old Scouser who taught the late Jacque Cousteau how to dive (well almost)!! As the divers entered the water someone shouted 'In we go, like lemmings off an iceberg' for which he was severely mocked as a brief discussion took place - was it supposed to be 'penguins off an iceberg' or 'lemmings off a cliff' - who knows?
The wreck was everything we could have wished for and more. We were spoiled with the terrific visibility, bearing in mind most of the team dive Liverpool Bay and the Irish Sea, where the 'lights go out' at 10 metres. The scene here was amazing - we were approaching the seabed at 65 metres without torches and had in excess of 20 metres visibility. The Hampshire has turned turtle with much of the bows broken up where she hit the mine on that fateful day back in 1916. From our ten man team, eight dived on open circuit, limiting bottom times between 30-35 minutes with a total time in the water being approximately 130 minutes. Two of the team were diving on closed circuit rebreathers, enabling them to have greater bottom times without the inherent knock on effect that a greater bottom time on open circuit would have on their decompression schedule. On average the rebreather divers were doing ten minutes more bottom time than the open circuit divers and getting out of the water at the same time.
Activity on the boat was feverish after the dive with everybody wanting to share their discoveries, plus we had the added advantage of being able to watch the Hampshire from topside because one of the team had filmed the dive with a camera mounted on top of his Diver Propulsion Vehicle. The visibility was even better on the footage, much comment and joking was made about everybody's finning technique, or lack of. But then a perfect finning technique is not particularly easy when you are carrying six cylinders. The video was very useful though and it gave us a superb overall picture of the wreck and several ideas of where we could dive the following day. After mixing our gas we decided to go and interact with the natives and experience some of the local culture. Yes, we went to the pub and talked about diving.
The following day's dive was better still with more ambient light and increased visibility. As I descended I stopped at 45 metres and was amazed to be able to identify the individual divers on the wreck, it would be fantastic if we could get this level of visibility in the UK year round, but then again it would take away some of the thrill and excitement on the limited days when you are blessed with such conditions.
The rest of the week went as planned, which is a luxury in terms of UK diving where you are always at the mercy of ever changing waters. The following day we dived the Konig to give our bodies a much deserved rest without having to use helium in our bottom mixes.
We discussed and agreed that our next dive would be on the 'Pheasant', a class B destroyer lying in 85 metres within sight of the Old Man of Hoy, an eerie setting for a dive as the mist closed in on us. To the best of my knowledge The Pheasant has only been dived by two teams before, so as you would imagine this fact only served to heighten the usual buzz. For the skipper this is nothing short of a nightmare to shot. With the current charging through at a scary 14 knots, perhaps only 20 minutes of 'slack' and with rocks the size of houses, its is certainly testing even for an experienced skipper. The gauntlet was thrown down and we challenged the skipper to get us on the wreck, in return we would provide a beer from each diver. Unfortunately and much to our disappointment we did not provide the skipper with unlimited beer, but then we will be back to attempt it again next year. The last two splendid days were spent on the wreck of the Hampshire, the finale being a celebration night in Stromness. And that, as they say, is where 'everything went pear shaped' with karaoke renditions of 'YMCA', 'Do you want to be in my gang' and 'Vindaloo' being sang by the team with great gusto!
The verdict - a great time was had by all.

By Tony Harris.