'I CALLED OUT' by Rex Woodmore
While diving on the 1656 wreck of the Gilt Dragon,
I Almost drowned, was menaced by a shark and I called out to God.
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This YouTube Video (thanks to Our Daily Bread) brings back my own memories of my experience. While diving on the Gilt Dragon's treasure, huge waves hurled and smashed me time and time again onto the ragged rocks.
Bruised and badly grazed and a shark 'sniffed at my legs' |
''I called out to the God that I didn't think I believed in!''
A shipwreck with bronze cannon and treasure chests filled with silver pieces of eight was a schoolboy’s dream and at last my dream was about to be fulfilled
227 years before Robert Louis Stevenson rote ‘Treasure Island’ the Dutch East Indies (VOC) treasure ship The Gilt Dragon, struck a reef 5.6 kilometers off the coast of Western Australia.
On board were Bronze canon, Elephant tusks, thousands of Ballast bricks, Earthenware jugs, Eight chests of silver coins and a crew of 193 (118 drowned). I was 19 years old when ‘But for the grace of God’ the Gilt Dragon almost took my life too! |
It was a beautiful sunny day & the sea was mirror calm. I had been briefed by Allan Robinson on the three king waves that would come up from time to time & the plan was to keep watching out for them, turn & face them and dive under them before they broke on the reef. Allan was like an Uncle to me and at the time he had the salvage rights to the wreck.
Our party consisted of Allan Robinson, Garry (?) a local young rock lobster fisherman, my girlfriend and me. Garry seemed to be living like a castaway on the beach and I thought to myself "We already have Robinson, so this guy must be Crusoe".
Garry impressed me, he was a larger than life young guy and I envied his lifestyle. On the beach he drove an unlicensed, topless ex-army jeep with kangaroo skin seat covers. He worked on his Dad's fishing boat and he lived alone on the beach at Ledge Point in a corrugated iron shack amongst the sand dunes. At the rear of his shack he showed me a large Elephant tusk (Part of the Gilt Dragon's valuable treasure) worm eaten from hundreds of years in the sea.
We were in a small outboard motor boat about 3 and a half miles (in those days considered to be outside of Australian Territorial waters) from shore, at Ledge Point on the 1656 wreck of the Dutch East Indies vessel, the Vergulde Draeck (Gilt Dragon) with its tons of ballast bricks, eight chests of silver coins, elephant tusks, pottery and gleaming bronze cannons.
Our party consisted of Allan Robinson, Garry (?) a local young rock lobster fisherman, my girlfriend and me. Garry seemed to be living like a castaway on the beach and I thought to myself "We already have Robinson, so this guy must be Crusoe".
Garry impressed me, he was a larger than life young guy and I envied his lifestyle. On the beach he drove an unlicensed, topless ex-army jeep with kangaroo skin seat covers. He worked on his Dad's fishing boat and he lived alone on the beach at Ledge Point in a corrugated iron shack amongst the sand dunes. At the rear of his shack he showed me a large Elephant tusk (Part of the Gilt Dragon's valuable treasure) worm eaten from hundreds of years in the sea.
We were in a small outboard motor boat about 3 and a half miles (in those days considered to be outside of Australian Territorial waters) from shore, at Ledge Point on the 1656 wreck of the Dutch East Indies vessel, the Vergulde Draeck (Gilt Dragon) with its tons of ballast bricks, eight chests of silver coins, elephant tusks, pottery and gleaming bronze cannons.
The sea was eerily calm and Allan thought it was safe enough for us to snorkel from his boat to see cannon that stood vertical from the reef with its muzzle protruding a couple of inches out of the water. I had a wetsuit jacket that was too big for me and a borrowed weight belt made of an old ex-army webbing belt with homemade weights bolted onto it. We got in close to the reef where the water was shallow, Alan pointed to something protruding about 10cm above the mirror calm water “WOW!” A three hundred year bronze cannon pointing skyward from the side of the reef. Polished, literally by the sands of time, it gleamed like gold in the clear water.
Taking a quick breath I dived down and touched the clear VOC crest on its gleaming sand polished muzzle. I was vaguely aware of Allan shouting something, but I was too overcome with excitement to respond. I came up for a breath and realised something was terribly wrong, a huge shadow folded like a giant hand above me and as if the awesome site of the cannon hadn’t been breathtaking enough, the first of an unheard of, six king waves tore my mask and snorkel from my face, scooped me up and hurled me onto the jagged rocks, knocking out the remnants of my breath of air and stunning me. I then fell back off the reef and plunged to the bottom where, even without my mask, I could see more cannon lying dark on the white sand. I grabbed hold of one but the next wave was too strong for me, almost ripping my fins from my feet. Again like a giant hand the wave rolled over me and it squeezed me like a tube of toothpaste. I was torn from my anchor point, lost my grip and again hurled savagely, like a rag doll, onto the rocks.
I knew I was in trouble, but thanks to the UEC training and experience I remained calm. I knew what to do, drop my weight belt and the buoyancy of my wetsuit would work like a life jacket. But I had one big problem; the safety release on the homemade weight belt wouldn’t work. The belt was jammed and with each receding wave, every time I tried to raise my head for a gulp of air, the weights dragged me down to the bottom. One moment I was swirling around on the bottom in the sand amongst the cannon and the next I was on the ragged rocks.
I was totally exhausted, the fight and the breath had been knocked out of me. I gave up, this was the end of my nineteen years on this earth, and I knew I would soon be sucking sea water & sand into my empty lungs. In a surreal, silent, slow motion moment, my whole life, like a movie, replayed in front of my eyes. In the final episode it was as if I saw myself lifeless, dead, bloated and blue slowly drifting backwards and forwards amongst the weed. Suddenly! I burst back to reality “This is not for me!” and my brain screamed out to the God that I didn’t think I believed in “God please save me!”
With that, my whole being seemed to explode with a super charge of Adrenaline, enabling me to throw myself to the surface.
Oblivious to my drama, Allan had made it to safety. I caught a glimpse of him in the water near the boat & on board was Garry & my girlfriend. When I saw her I thought “This is the last time I will ever see you”.
I was still in trouble with the belt dragging me down. There was just enough time, before the final wave broke, for me to yell out to Allan for help. Strangely it had seemed so natural and so easy to shout out to God for help, yet I found it unnatural and embarrassing to call out to man. I quickly overcame my embarrassment and was able to get out two or three shouts for “HELP!” before the next wave grabbed me. Strangely this wave behaved differently to the preceding five. It still effortlessly scooped me up, but it didn’t smash me onto the reef, instead it gently rolled me, like a bag of bones, over the full width of the reef and into deeper but calmer waters. There was no way I would be able to swim back to the boat with the weights dragging me down, so while blocking out stories of sharks waiting on this side of the reef for an easy feed of stunned and injured fish, I renewed my effort to drop the belt. Quickly Allan Robinson was alongside me, he always carried a spear with him on this side of the reef to fend off the sharks that I was trying to not think about. He seemed perplexed as to why I had not dropped my belt. He grabbed at the buckle and gave it a wrench. Nothing happened. His expression and manner changed. Reaching for his knife he dropped his brand new spear and it sank into the depths. Then while he partly lifted me with one hand, with the other he sawed through the tough webbing belt. It was difficult and seemed to take ages. Eventually I was free and bobbed around like a cork in my oversized wet suit. Allan took the lead and we swam quite a long way around the reef and back to the boat.
Taking a quick breath I dived down and touched the clear VOC crest on its gleaming sand polished muzzle. I was vaguely aware of Allan shouting something, but I was too overcome with excitement to respond. I came up for a breath and realised something was terribly wrong, a huge shadow folded like a giant hand above me and as if the awesome site of the cannon hadn’t been breathtaking enough, the first of an unheard of, six king waves tore my mask and snorkel from my face, scooped me up and hurled me onto the jagged rocks, knocking out the remnants of my breath of air and stunning me. I then fell back off the reef and plunged to the bottom where, even without my mask, I could see more cannon lying dark on the white sand. I grabbed hold of one but the next wave was too strong for me, almost ripping my fins from my feet. Again like a giant hand the wave rolled over me and it squeezed me like a tube of toothpaste. I was torn from my anchor point, lost my grip and again hurled savagely, like a rag doll, onto the rocks.
I knew I was in trouble, but thanks to the UEC training and experience I remained calm. I knew what to do, drop my weight belt and the buoyancy of my wetsuit would work like a life jacket. But I had one big problem; the safety release on the homemade weight belt wouldn’t work. The belt was jammed and with each receding wave, every time I tried to raise my head for a gulp of air, the weights dragged me down to the bottom. One moment I was swirling around on the bottom in the sand amongst the cannon and the next I was on the ragged rocks.
I was totally exhausted, the fight and the breath had been knocked out of me. I gave up, this was the end of my nineteen years on this earth, and I knew I would soon be sucking sea water & sand into my empty lungs. In a surreal, silent, slow motion moment, my whole life, like a movie, replayed in front of my eyes. In the final episode it was as if I saw myself lifeless, dead, bloated and blue slowly drifting backwards and forwards amongst the weed. Suddenly! I burst back to reality “This is not for me!” and my brain screamed out to the God that I didn’t think I believed in “God please save me!”
With that, my whole being seemed to explode with a super charge of Adrenaline, enabling me to throw myself to the surface.
Oblivious to my drama, Allan had made it to safety. I caught a glimpse of him in the water near the boat & on board was Garry & my girlfriend. When I saw her I thought “This is the last time I will ever see you”.
I was still in trouble with the belt dragging me down. There was just enough time, before the final wave broke, for me to yell out to Allan for help. Strangely it had seemed so natural and so easy to shout out to God for help, yet I found it unnatural and embarrassing to call out to man. I quickly overcame my embarrassment and was able to get out two or three shouts for “HELP!” before the next wave grabbed me. Strangely this wave behaved differently to the preceding five. It still effortlessly scooped me up, but it didn’t smash me onto the reef, instead it gently rolled me, like a bag of bones, over the full width of the reef and into deeper but calmer waters. There was no way I would be able to swim back to the boat with the weights dragging me down, so while blocking out stories of sharks waiting on this side of the reef for an easy feed of stunned and injured fish, I renewed my effort to drop the belt. Quickly Allan Robinson was alongside me, he always carried a spear with him on this side of the reef to fend off the sharks that I was trying to not think about. He seemed perplexed as to why I had not dropped my belt. He grabbed at the buckle and gave it a wrench. Nothing happened. His expression and manner changed. Reaching for his knife he dropped his brand new spear and it sank into the depths. Then while he partly lifted me with one hand, with the other he sawed through the tough webbing belt. It was difficult and seemed to take ages. Eventually I was free and bobbed around like a cork in my oversized wet suit. Allan took the lead and we swam quite a long way around the reef and back to the boat.
“Have a look under you!” then suddenly as if to correct himself he said
‘’Oh! It’s Okay. You can’t see without your mask”
“Why, what is it?” I asked
“Nothing, just part of the wreck” he said unconvincingly.
I didn’t think there was any wreckage this far from the reef. We were in open waters and thoughts of sharks crept back into my mind. I brought my legs up and avoided splashing like an injured fish.
‘’Oh! It’s Okay. You can’t see without your mask”
“Why, what is it?” I asked
“Nothing, just part of the wreck” he said unconvincingly.
I didn’t think there was any wreckage this far from the reef. We were in open waters and thoughts of sharks crept back into my mind. I brought my legs up and avoided splashing like an injured fish.
On the way home in Allan’s car. He told me how he had seen a 10 foot Bronze Whaler shark ‘sniffing’ at my scratched & bleeding legs.
It was a strange journey home and I had mixed emotions. I was confused and yet was sure that something, far more mysterious than possible death, had happened to me. |
I had called out to the God that I thought I did not believe in. But who did I thank that day? I thanked the man that cut off my weight belt. And to what did I credit the surge of power that came over me when I needed it most? I credited my own system for its production of Adrenalin.
I thanked God for the undeserved love, grace & mercy that He showed me that day.He brought His people into my life and it is through them that He picked me up and made me the new man I am today. I know I am far from perfect, but God has not given up on me. Instead he has blessed me in innumerable ways.
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