Day One: The Journey North
Ian and I loaded up the van and drove up together, while John and Graham made their own way. The weather was looking great as we arrived in Scotland for our May expedition to the Sound of Mull. Loading the heavy gear onto our liveaboard for the week, the Honeydew, at Dunstaffnage was a mission in itself—ferrying kit from the car park across a maze of pontoons took quite a few trips.
We were joined on board by two divers from Deeside SAC and three from Edinburgh University SAC, making for a great mix of people. We were also in excellent hands for the week with our crew: Rohan at the helm as skipper, Frazer working hard as our deckhand, and Sarah, our chef, who would quickly become the absolute hero of the trip thanks to her amazing food. It was a long day of travel and logistics, but the excellent conditions kept spirits high.
Day Two: The SS Breda and Sassenach Point
Unfortunately, day two started with the ultimate diver’s heartbreak: Ian suffered a fatal drysuit zip malfunction before we even hit the water, putting him out of action for the entire trip. Down to a team of three, Graham, John, and I kitted up for our first dive of the SS Breda. This famous wreck was a large Dutch cargo steamship requisitioned during World War II, which sank in 1940 after being bombed by a German He-111 aircraft and subsequently slipping off a shallow coastal shelf.
This was a perfect, chilled-out shakedown dive. We were treated to very good visibility of around 10 metres, with an average water temperature of a brisk 9°C. Reaching a maximum depth of 29 metres, we spent a solid hour exploring the wreck. Alongside the resident spider crabs, hermit crabs, and wrasse, we enjoyed hunting out some of the Breda’s iconic cargo, spotting another shoe, a fan blade, and some old records scattered among the wreckage.
Breaking the surface, we were quickly introduced to one of the absolute highlights of diving from the Honeydew: Frazer and the crew immediately handing us our hot drink of choice and a slice of homemade cake. We relaxed into our surface interval with an incredible lunch prepared by Sarah. The catering on this boat is nothing short of amazing throughout the entire trip, and I now completely understand the people who book a return trip just for the food!
Suitably refuelled, we kitted up for our second dive of the day at Sassenach Point. This was a fantastic drift dive, dropping down to a maximum depth of 22 metres. The water temperature was slightly milder at 10°C, making for a very comfortable hour-long dive. Sassenach Point is a brilliant spot for marine life, and it certainly delivered.
After breaking the surface and enjoying another post-dive cake and hot drink, the Honeydew steamed toward Tobermory for the night. Once moored, a few of us headed ashore to the iconic, brightly painted Mishnish pub for a well-earned drink. We soaked in the lively, traditional atmosphere by the harbour before heading back to the boat, where Sarah had outdone herself once again with an incredible Sunday roast to round off the day.
Suitably refuelled, we kitted up for our second dive of the day at Sassenach Point. This was a fantastic drift dive, dropping down to a maximum depth of 22 metres. The water temperature was slightly milder at 10°C, making for a very comfortable hour-long dive. Sassenach Point is a brilliant spot for marine life, and it certainly delivered.
After breaking the surface and enjoying another post-dive cake and hot drink, the Honeydew steamed toward Tobermory for the night. Once moored, a few of us headed ashore to the iconic, brightly painted Mishnish pub for a well-earned drink. We soaked in the lively, traditional atmosphere by the harbour before heading back to the boat, where Sarah had outdone herself once again with an incredible Sunday roast to round off the day.
Day Three: RMS Aurania and Muck Wall
The next morning, we geared up for the Aurania. A massive former Cunard ocean liner serving as a troopship, she met her end in 1918 after being torpedoed by a German submarine and breaking her tow line in a fierce winter gale. We dropped down to a maximum depth of 23 metres for another solid hour-long dive, with water temperatures holding steady at 10°C and visibility of around 7 metres.
I had a minor battle with my buoyancy thanks to a “new” undersuit trapping a bit more air than expected, but John proved to be an excellent buddy, passing me some extra weight mid-dive to get me sorted. Once trimmed out, the dive was brilliant. The wreck is broken up but absolutely teeming with life, with lobsters, spider crabs, and wrasse seemingly everywhere you looked. Among the wreckage, we even spotted some old plates proudly bearing the Cunard logo. The absolute highlight, though, was exploring the two massive boilers, which created a fantastic, atmospheric swim-through. The sea state had picked up and gotten a little choppy by the time we deployed our DSMBs and surfaced.
After our surface interval, we headed to our final site of the day: Muck Wall. Despite the choppy sea state on the surface, there wasn’t much current below, and we were treated to good visibility. This was a deeper one, hitting a maximum depth of 40 metres for just over an hour at 10°C.
The highlight of this dive had less to do with the wall and more to do with the gear—John and I brought out our DPVs (scooters) for the first time on the trip. We spent the dive having an absolute blast messing around and zooming along the drop-off. Graham, meanwhile, was far too engrossed in his camera viewfinder to even notice our underwater antics. As John and I were too busy enjoying the scooters, we barely logged any marine species, but it was an incredibly fun way to cap off the day.
After surfacing and packing away the scooters, Rohan steamed the Honeydew north toward Mallaig harbour for the night. Once safely moored, we headed ashore to find the local pub. We spent the evening enjoying some well-earned post-deco beers, reflecting on a brilliant day of swim-throughs and high-speed flybys.
Day Four: Sgeir a’ Chuirn-Uisge and Dunan Star
The next morning, we departed Mallaig and dropped in at Sgeir a’ Chuirn-Uisge. The surface conditions were still choppy, though underneath we had a solid 10 metres of visibility and a steady 10°C water temperature. We hit a maximum depth of 31 metres and stayed down for another full hour. Honestly, this wasn’t one of my favourite dives of the trip—sometimes a site just doesn’t quite hit the mark compared to the standout wrecks and walls—but it was still a decent hour underwater, and the hot drink back on board was as welcome as ever.
After our surface interval, it was time for the Dunan Star. Unlike the grand steamships of previous days, this is a much more modern wreck—a small, 11-metre fishing boat that sank near the entrance to Loch Nevis in 2012. Unfortunately, I didn’t actually make it into the water for this one. In a moment of absolute brilliance—and in stark contrast to Ian’s tragic zip failure on day two—I simply forgot to zip my drysuit closed like an absolute idiot.
As I sat this one out, just Graham and John dropped in. This dive belonged to John, who managed to penetrate the wreck and make his way into the wheelhouse. While inside, he discovered an old chocolate bar. In a highly questionable display of post-dive nutrition, he brought the prize all the way back to the Honeydew and actually decided to try it. His official tasting note? “It tastes of diesel.” A diesel-flavoured chocolate bar is certainly one way to remember a wreck!
After packing away the kit and letting John recover from his culinary experiment, the Honeydew returned to Mallaig for a second night. We enjoyed another relaxed evening in the harbour, and I took the opportunity to stretch my legs with a scenic walk up to the viewing point to take in the views and round off the day.
Day Five: Bo Faskadale and Calve Island Wall
Massive thanks to Rohan, who had kindly chucked my completely soaked undersuit into the engine room overnight. By the morning, it was bone dry, and I was thankfully back in the game for our first drop at Bo Faskadale.
We descended into a solid 10 metres of visibility with the temperature holding at 10°C. In classic diver fashion, our underwater navigation let us down slightly—we headed off in completely the wrong direction and managed to miss the “proper” wall entirely. Despite the detour, it was still a genuinely good dive. We spent our time exploring the topography we did find, spotting plenty of spider crabs, some scallops, and a lobster along the way. It ended up being our longest dive of the trip, hitting a maximum depth of 36 metres with a run time of 1 hour and 20 minutes. As we were running a little overdue, we made sure to fire up a DSMB early so the surface crew knew exactly where we were and that all was well.
Our second dive of the day brought us to Calve Island Wall. The surface conditions were perfectly calm, with just a slight current running underwater. We had 10 metres of visibility and water temperatures remaining steady at 10°C. I maxed out at 34 metres, while John pushed a bit deeper to explore the 40-metre mark. Despite the depth separation, we kept in constant light comms throughout the hour-long dive. The wall was fantastic—we were surrounded by plenty of jellies and some striking white fish with blue spots.
John had developed a small equipment leak and upon reaching the boat and de-kitting, said he was getting a little cold. It was incredibly hard to feel sympathetic, considering he was diving in a heated suit!!
Back on the surface, we steamed to Tobermory for the night. Since the Scottish weather was holding out so beautifully, Rohan and Sarah treated us all to an incredible BBQ on the deck. Of course, the evening wouldn’t be complete without a bit of local wildlife interaction. Someone made the fatal error of tossing a scrap to a single passing gull. As is always the way, one gull quickly became two, and within moments, two became seven, turning our peaceful dinner into a very closely monitored standoff.
Day Six: SS Shuna and Auliston Point
Day six kicked off with a drop on the SS Shuna, which easily ranks as one of my absolute favourite dives of the entire trip. Built as a cargo steamer, she was carrying a heavy load of coal and iron when she struck rocks in the Sound of Mull and sank in 1913. We dropped down to a maximum depth of 34 metres for a 50-minute run time, with the water temperature holding firm at 10°C.
The wreck is in fantastic shape and offered some really excellent swim-throughs. While exploring, we came across the ship’s spare propeller resting on the deck—it was so massive that it actually took me a moment to process exactly what I was looking at. We eventually made our way to the stern to check out the main rudder and propeller assembly. In a moment of supreme confidence, John looked at the gap between the prop and the rudder and decided he could comfortably fit through it. He was, to put it mildly, not correct and was a little funny watching him try and fin his way through..
John then went in search of scallops as Ian had requested some, searching the seabed and proudly returned to the boat having found “loads” of scallops… which, upon inspection, turned out to be exactly one.
For our second dive of the day, we headed over to Auliston Point. The surface was still a bit choppy, but once we dropped below the waves, we were treated to a cracking 15 metres of visibility. We shuffled the buddy teams for this one. Graham and John paired up, while I buddied up with Adam from the Edinburgh University club. Adam had been doing training all week and just wanted a proper, chilled-out dive without the baggage and task-loading of courses, so we kept it relaxed. We hit a maximum depth of 37 metres for a 45-minute run time, with the temperature sitting at the usual 10°C. It was a great, scenic wall dive, and we even spotted a dogfish—or a catshark, depending on whatever you prefer to call it this week!
After surfacing and getting the gear squared away, the Honeydew headed back to Tobermory for the night. Since the Mishnish had treated us so well earlier in the week, John and I decided it would be rude not to go back. We headed ashore to grab a few more pints in the iconic yellow pub, capping off a brilliant day of massive propellers, stuck divers, and solitary scallops.
Day Seven: SS Rondo and SS Breda (Return)
The morning of day seven took us to the SS Rondo, a highly unusual wreck simply because of how and where she has settled. A steam cargo ship seeking shelter from a severe storm in 1935, she ended up stranded on the rocky islet of Dearg Sgeir and now rests essentially parked vertically down a steep drop-off. We hit a maximum depth of 40 metres for an hour-long run time, with visibility holding at 10 metres and the temperature sitting at our standard 10°C.
Graham unfortunately had to cut his dive short and head up early due to a slightly flooded rebreather. With Graham safely out of the water, John and I carried on and decided to try our luck at a couple of swim-throughs at the 32-metre and 22-metre marks. Let’s just say one was successful, and the other was decidedly less so! The wreck itself is a bit barren compared to some of the others we visited, but the wall right next to it is absolutely packed with life. John’s entire trip was made when he managed to spot not one, but two nudibranchs. I think he was searching for them all week.
For our second dive of the day and the very last of the trip, we headed back to where our diving began: the SS Breda. We hit a maximum depth of 32 metres for another solid hour, with the temperature steady at 10°C. Since it was the last dive, John and I decided to bring the scooters out one last time. At one point, I switched my video lights into ‘police mode’ and chased John down to issue him a speeding ticket.
The Journey Home & Wrap-Up
Once everyone was back on board, Rohan steamed the Honeydew over to Oban for a quick refuel before heading back to our starting point at Dunstaffnage. Unpacking was the exact reverse of our arrival—a long, hard slog ferrying heavy, wet kit across the pontoons back to the van. With everything finally loaded, there was nothing left to do but rest up and wait for the morning to tackle the long drive back down to Leicestershire with Ian.
Despite the initial heartbreak of Ian’s drysuit zipper (and my own unzipped mishap), the trip was a massive success. The brilliant wrecks, the outstanding food from Sarah, Rohan and Frazer’s hard work aboard the Honeydew, and the top-tier banter—from diesel-flavoured chocolate and solitary scallops to underwater speeding tickets—the Sound of Mull once again proved why it is a staple of UK diving.