Under normal circumstances, diving is not dangerous if all rules are well observed, but there always is a risk that Murphy will cut in to wreck havoc. This is why the absolute rule is never to dive on one’s own, which in itself intuitively dictates a feeling of mutual trust with one’s diving buddy. Mutual because even if a lesser experienced diver will always seek the company of an experienced buddy, the experienced diver will too think twice about diving again with someone whose behaviour under the surface can be questioned.

In a vast majority of cases though, a true spirit of camaraderie builds up, and this can be seen outside of the water as well, like lending a hand even when hasn’t been is requested, like putting a hand out over the ladder to help a diver come aboard, help disengage a tight suit from one’s shoulders, carry a tired diver’s cylinders from the boat to the club and so forth. This kind of camaraderie actually becomes a lifestyle that stretches beyond the limits of pure diving to turn into deeper friendship with divers often convening for lunch, dinner or touring the countryside together and, thanks to the internet, exchange photographs of other diving adventures.

A Couple of Dos and Don’ts

Before we move on to this display of divers, and in the light of what was said above, it might be appropriate to provide two examples of dos and don’ts.

With the availability of affordable underwater cameras, too many divers with insufficient experience (typically those for whom buoyancy adjustment is not yet instinctive) wildly paddle their fins to regain stability, very often snagging surrounding corals, anemones or sponges. This picture shows a perfect photographer’s instinctive stance with fins propped high and clear of any potential obstacle. When swimming close to the bottom, also ensure that no lose gear hangs down, pressure gauges and back-up regulators being absolute seafan destroyers for instance.

Kicking sand and silt is another typical problem, generally caused by unawareness (for the lesser experienced) or carelessness. These two divers, for example, had requested to be photographed over a sandy bottom and resorted to use their fins to remain still against the background never realising that they actually were ruining the setting of their own souvenir picture.

This lady is the exception that confirms the rule. This relative beginner had just pocketed her advanced open water certificate and showed fine self-control as she exited a wreck, removing the regulator from her mouth to greet the photographer.

(Those who wish to have their pictures removed please click here, and state you name, adding “remove”)

The Franjack was carefully prepared to offer both an attractive, safe exploration site and a home to underwater wildlife development and thereby dilute diver concentration away from the Ilets Pigeon, together with the not too distant Augustin Fresnel II and Gustavia wrecks.

Preparation included removal of all elements that could cause involuntary entrapment, particularly the lifeboats and their davits, doors and hatches and conversely improve easy access to its internal volumes. The dredging pipes are also gone and only the scavenge pipe on starboard lies, collapsed on the gunwale.

Items that must have been added at a later stage, but that do not feature on the drawings, are a couple of cantilevered arms crudely made of welded “I” beam overhanging the rear starboard area, and a curious aerial array of railings at either end of the cargo hold, which works as a heavenly home to numerous varieties of fish.

Of particular interest is the engine room, which can be accessed either vertically through a cut-out in the aft quarters roof behind the place where the funnel used to be, or through the door at the front of that part of the structure, or from its side-doors.

While the front mast stands up and proud, the aft mast, an inverted "Y" (so think of that letter standing upside-down), is folded horizontally over the roof, resting on its two original supports, but its upper section was lost. This section, between the roof and the folded mast, is home to a dense colony of snappers and grunts of all kinds.

Shortly after she was sunk, the Franjack lost most of her bridge to a violent storm and only the rear bulkhead of that structure survives to date.

The MaK engine is an impressive affair, which can be best examined from its starboard side.

The rocker covers have been dismantled to reveal the valve springs and gear, while lower, at crankshaft level, the ports in the block have been removed to display the piston skirts and their conrods. A quick glance upwards in the chambers will reveal air still trapped in the upper block! The pistons are over 30cm in diameter, so think of six long-playing vinyl records moving up and down 45 cm to produce a displacement of some 66 litres, generating 800 horsepower at the furious speed of 330 rpm!

A visit to the lower bow will show that the Franjack did not plough deep into the sand, but astern, the half dug-in three-blade screw suggests that another good metre of metal lies below the sand surface.

Dive safely!!!

History:

A most popular wreck due to both its low depth an proximity from the shore – almost within swimming distance of the Atlantis diving club on the road between the Malendure Rock and Pigeon – the Franjack was a sand dredger that started life as the Oresund at the Danyard Danish shipbuilders. Named after the strait separating Denmark and Sweden and launched on 1 January 1965, she first operated around Copenhagen, then changed name to Franjack in July 1976 when she was acquired by a company to operate around the French port of La Rochelle in the 1970s before being again taken over and overhauled in Fort de France (in Martinique) by a Gosier-based operator in Guadeloupe.

Deemed beyond repair and abandoned in a corner of Pointe-à-Pitre harbour after the devastating Hugo hurricane in 1989 she was finally cleaned up of any noxious elements and scuttled in 1996. While the side dredge was removed, one of the scavenge pipes survives on port.

Description:

The Franjack lies flat and horizontal on her keel on a sand bed at a depth of 24 metres, with her centre deck about 3 metres higher and making the aft cabin roof lofting under about 18 metres of water. This, added to the fact that her forward mast towers at a mere 10 metres below the surface, the Franjack is also very popular with apneists.

The lower “inverted Y” section of the aft mast is folded backwards over the rear cabin roof (both masts were foldable to pass under bridges). On that roof, a plate of ample dimensions ahead of the emplacement of the oblong-based funnel was removed to give easy and direct vertical access to the engine and its room. The funnel itself is gone. The big horn ahead of where the funnel was, is a later fitment, perhaps during the Fanjack’s mid-life update at la Rochelle.

The Franjack wreck is home to an amazing number of coral, anemone, sponges and fish species, and particularly to a pretty large green moray that may be found either in the large scavenge pipe lying across the port gunwale or in a hollow section of the ship further aft.

The bridge collapsed after a strong storm in the mid-2000s and only the lower and after structure of this survived. It looks odd, but the asymmetrical physiognomy of this aft section actually is original.

The state of the Franjack has started to noticeably deteriorate around 2012, and it may sooner or (hopefully) later be hazardous to visit the deck-level compartments whose access gallery surround and overlook the engine room . Even parts of the hull where it rests on the sand are showing signs of buckling.

Data:

Builder: Frederikshavns Vft, Frederikshavn, Denmark

Original name: Øresund

Gross Tonnage: 486

Length: 53.3 metres

Beam: 10.03 metres

Height (keel to deck): 3.35 metres

Screw: 1

Engine: one 800hp, 66-Litre MaK 6MU451 six-cylinder (in line), four-stroke diesel.