JAMES EAGAN LAYNE
7176-ton US Liberty ship, built 1944. 441ft x 57ft. (134m x 17m) 2500hp triple-expansion engines. Armed: Bow and stern guns, plus 5 AA. Cargo: 4500 tons war supplies, tank parts, lorries,
jeeps, railway rolling stock, US Army engineers' stores, New York for Ghent,
via Barry. Position: 50 19.53N; 04 14.70W.
Depth: 24m.
Sunk: 21 March, 1945, after hit in starboard
side by torpedo from U-1195. Beached after being towed by Admiralty tugs into
Whitsand Bay.
Diving: Upright, starboard side collapsing. Easy
entry to Nos 1 and 2 holds, which hold many railway rolling stock wheels. Ribs
intact. Main engine now covered by fallen decking. Port side a vast sheet of
white anemones. Stern broken off by No 5 hold and linked by rope ÒbridgeÓ to
main wreckage. This wreck is so popular that local boats run shuttle service!
Launch: Plymouth Sound
.
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The wreck today:
Upright, starboard side collapsing. Easy entry to Nos 1 and 2
holds, which hold many railway rolling stock wheels. Ribs intact. Main engine
now covered by fallen decking. Port side a vast sheet of white anemones. Stern
broken off by No 5 hold and linked by rope ÒbridgeÓ to main wreckage. This
wreck is so popular that local boats run shuttle service!
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"And about
time!" you cry. Why has it taken Diver so long to get round to one of
Britain"s most popular wrecks? John Liddiard explains our tortured
thinking in a specially extended springtime Wreck Tour Illustration by Max Ellis
READERS HAVE BEEN
REQUESTING a Wreck Tour of the James Eagan Layne for years, and I
have deliberately been putting it off. One reason was that Diver ran quite a
detailed article about diving the wreck in May 1997 and I felt that it needed
to wait its turn before I could cover it in this series of tours.
Anyway, seven years on I have dived it afresh to make sure that I am as up to
date as possible with the tour and sketch. To compensate for the wait, I begged
the boss for an extra page so that I could do the wreck
justice. A dive on the James Eagan Layne nearly always
begins on the buoy tied to the bow (1), which, depending on the tide, rises to about
8m. It"s what makes the James Eagan Layne such a great wreck to
dive. Beginning this shallow, anyone can do it. Rather than
continuing straight back inside the holds, I suggest dropping over the point of
the bow and descending just a few metres, not all the way to the seabed, but
just far enough to be able to look back along both sides of the hull and the
masses of anemones. There is also the possibility of sighting one of the big
shoals of fish that sometimes loiter in the current just off the
bow. Swimming along the port side, the first navigation
checkpoint is the anchor hawse pipe (2). Neither anchor nor chain are any longer there,
but it is full of anemones, and wrasse seem to have fun chasing each other up
and down it. Stay at about the same
depth and cruise further back along the hull, which is soon broken down to the
main deck, providing a route back inside (3) without having to ascend. It"s easy to
swim the length of the main body of the wreck from hold to hold, inside the
wreck with no risk and a simple exit upwards, so that is how our tour will
continue for now.
Liberty ships such as the James Eagan Layne were of a shelter-deck design,
meaning that there was an additional deck built above the main deck, enclosing
the main deck and providing additional sheltered space for cargo. Crossing the ribs to the first cargo hatch (4), you are actually
crossing the main deck, the shelter deck having long since collapsed, eroded
and been cleared by explosives at various stages of the wreck"s
evolution. Dropping into the number 1 hold, the hatch and a fair
amount of debris from the deck can be seen to have fallen in. At the forward
end, the anchor winch is sloped against the bulkhead. Ribs and hull from the
starboard side have fallen in along most of the hold. On the port side, fish swim in and out where hull plating has
decayed, leaving ragged holes blocked to any but the skinniest of divers by
upright hull ribs. Among the remnants of cargo are pickaxe heads, vehicle
batteries and piles of things that I am at a complete loss to identify, as was
everyone I asked. At the back of the hold, the bulkhead is just a
frame (5) with gaps big enough to
swim through, some of the uprights having collapsed to make room for even the
most heavily equipped diver. Immediately on entering number 2 hold,
you"ll see a pair of cargo winches that have fallen upside-down beneath
their mounting plates on either side of the hold (6). The corresponding mast
and deckhouse have also fallen into the hold, a little off-centre to the port
side of the hold.
This is the most broken of the forward holds, the starboard side being almost
completely open (7). There are some big steel bowls at the back of this hold, which
are actually cauldrons for a field kitchen. Access to number
3 hold is again through the broken skeleton of the separating bulkhead (8). The most interesting
cargo here is a pile of spoked wheels just by a break in the starboard side (9). These are the sort of
wheels used for agricultural machinery and should not be confused with the
railway wheels that the James Eagan Layne was also carrying. There are quite a
few piles of similar wheels further aft. Liberty ships were configured with
three holds forward and two aft, so the next bulkhead (10) separates the number 3
hold from the engine-room.
The boilers were fired by oil, and the rectangular tanks can be found tight
against either side of the hull (11). Between the tanks, the two Babcock water-tube
boilers are rectangular in section and mounted across the ship. Between the
boilers and the fuel tanks on either side are steel canyons wide enough to swim
through.
Back in 1997, when I last reported on the James Eagan Layne, the conventional
triple-expansion steam engine (12) was largely obscured by debris from above. But
now this has mostly collapsed further to leave the top of the engine nicely
exposed. Off to the starboard side, a single-cylinder auxiliary engine looks as
if it drives a pump.
Aft of the engine the wreck is split along the centre line by a pair of fuel
oil tanks, both accessible through the bulkhead at the rear of the engine-room
or from above. Close to the bottom of the port-side compartment (13), an irregular hole
towards the centre of the wreck provides access to the propeller-shaft tunnel.
For a properly equipped and experienced diver, the tunnel can be swum through
all the way beneath number 4 hold, but be warned, it is a very tight squeeze in
places. For those not so inclined, the aft bulkhead from the port tank is a bit
too intact for most divers to wriggle through. The way aft is back into the
engine room to the starboard fuel tank, where the bulkhead to number 4 hold has
completely collapsed (14). Number 4 hold (15) contains more of the
neatly piled rows of steel beams and a scattering of the usual cargo. This is
the last of the intact holds, with the bulkhead at the rear (16) leading to the pile of
debris that used to be number 5. The torpedo hit the James Eagan Layne on the
starboard side just aft of this bulkhead. At the centre line of the hold and
tight against the bulkhead, the propshaft tunnel can just be found emerging
from the debris, the exit of the advanced swim-through I mentioned earlier. Next comes part of the James Eagan Layne
that many divers have trouble finding, the last bit of the stern, so I will go
into detail on my method of getting there. To the port side of number 5 hold
lies the remains of the deckhouse and mast-foot that would have spanned the
deck between numbers 4 and 5 holds (17). Dropping over the broken side of the wreck as
close to the bulkhead as possible, the first waypoint is a pair of spoked
wheels from the cargo. Just out and aft of these is a ribbed section of hull
stretching further out from the wreck (18). Crossing this and a few metres of seabed,
another section of hull is usually visible without having to swim out blindly (19). Right at the outer and
aft end of this are some ribs pointing aft, partly buried in the seabed. These
point to the stern, which should either just be visible, or at least show as a
shadow in the distance. Depth is about 26m depending on the tide. The first
recognisable item of wreckage is the rudder (20), which lies across the route. To the
right is forward, and to the left aft. Turning forward along the starboard
side, the hull soon comes to a clean break across a bulkhead. At the lower
corner, it is possible to get inside and ascend. There used to be an air pocket
here, collected from diver"s bubbles, though I didn"t check that it
still existed last time I dived the James Eagan Layne. Fed by stale
diver"s air at 20m, this is definitely not the sort of pocket from which
you should ever risk breathing. Back outside and continuing across
the stern, the ribs of the bulkhead are a mass of plumose anemones. A few
scraps of wreckage lead in a "forward" direction, including the
spindle of a cargo winch, though this is obviously not the way back to the main
body of the wreck. Rounding the next
corner to the port side of the stern, the boat derricks are broken slightly
outward to almost touch the seabed (21). Then, right at the stern, a rounded and
toothed ring on the seabed (22) is part of the traverse mechanism for the stern gun-mount,
visible as a corresponding ring on the stern deck. On the upper starboard edge
of the stern deck, the shallowest point of the stern is marked by the boat
derricks at 16m (23). So how did the stern get
to be this far from the wreck? Some claim it is the result of clearing the
wreck with explosives but I think otherwise. The James Eagan Layne sank by the
stern, across a mild current. The propshaft had already been broken by the
torpedo explosion. The rudder and propeller would have dug in, dragging
and causing the wreck to break forward of the rudder. The already damaged
number 5 hold would then have broken up completely, the rest of the wreck
settling more gently away from the broken-off part of the stern. To get
this far is a long dive, so this could be the point to surface on a delayed SMB,
though make sure this is agreed with the boat skipper beforehand, as he could
be expecting divers to surface back at the bow. For a marathon dive, there is
still plenty of wreck to see. The main body lies roughly to the north-east,
though I advise against using a compass. The reliable way to get back to it is
to retrace the route out to the closest section of hull (24), then follow the inside
edge of the debris back to the side of number 5 hold. Cargo spread among
the remains of the hold includes just about everything already encountered,
with the addition of well-concreted bales of wire to the starboard side. Right
at the tail end of the debris is the last part of the propeller shaft and
tunnel and stern recess (25). This is much
easier to swim through than the earlier section below number 4 hold. It is also
bent somewhere between 20 and 30¡ from the line of the wreck. To my mind this
is further evidence of the stern digging in as it sank, causing the wreck to
break as it has. On the way back to the bow there is still plenty
to see along either side of the wreck or along the deck. I prefer the port side
along the seabed. Various sections of hull and deck lead to a large section
amidships that it is possible to swim below (26), then another boxed section just back
from the bow (27) with a bent girder across it through which it is also possible to
swim. We then come to why I like this
route back to the bow - the chance to ascend along its edge (28), looking up past masses
of anemones and, on the right day, shoals of fish. Level with the hawse pipes,
duck back round and inside (29), out of the current and shallow enough for a slightly
deeper than usual safety stop, hanging onto the railing. There is just so much
to explore, and you can understand why this is such a long Wreck Tour, and why
most divers take several dives to see even half of the James Eagan Layne.
THE MAKING OF YOUR
FAVOURITE WRECK
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The USA built 2700
Liberty ships for World War Two. But in most diving logbooks there is only one
- the James Eagan Layne, the most dived ship in British waters, writes
Kendall McDonald. She was one of 120 Liberty ships named after men of the
American Merchant Marine killed by enemy action during the war. James Eagan
Layne earned his Liberty ship when, as Second Engineer Layne, he was killed in
the engine-room of the Esso Baton Rouge tanker, torpedoed off the east coast of
the USA in 1942.
The keel of the Layne
was laid down in October 1944, one of the 188 Liberty ships to be built by the
Delta Shipbuilding Company of New Orleans.
Just 40 days later, on 2
December, widow Marjorie Layne cried out: "I name this ship James Eagan
Layne, and may God bless all who sail in her!" as she swung the champagne
bottle to shatter on her bow. Liberty Ship 157, bearing her late husband's
name, slid sideways into the Mississippi.
James Eagan Layne had
needed 43 miles of welding to put her together. She was 7176 tons gross, 441ft
long with a beam of 57ft and had two oil-fired boilers. Her standard
triple-expansion engines had been built at the Joshua Hendy Ironworks of
Sunnyvale, California. Fitting her out after her launch took another 16 days.
At the beginning of March, 1945, her maiden voyage began. She steamed across
the Atlantic, holds crammed with war supplies, lorries, jeeps, railway rolling
stock and tank parts, to Barry Roads, where she was joined to Convoy BTC 103
for the rest of her voyage to Ghent. But, like 50 other Liberty ships, her
maiden voyage was to be her last.
Kapitänleutnant Ernst
Cordes in U1195 found the James Eagan Layne in a break in the fog on 21
March, as she was passing close to South Devon"s West Rutts. She was the
lead ship in the second column of the convoy and, shortly before 4pm, Cordes
sent a single torpedo into her. It struck just aft of her engine-room and she
lost all power immediately, swishing to a halt on the calm sea. She was badly
holed in two of her rear holds and water was rising fast. She sat there, with
nobody making any noise for fear of attracting a second torpedo, until two
Admiralty tugs arrived and took off her crew of 42 and the 27 gunners who
manned her six AA gun emplacements. Then they took her in tow. They aimed to beach her, but the inrush of
water was too great and the tugs had to cast off as she sank to the sandy
bottom a mile from Rame Head at 10.30pm. Some salvage started at once. Her guns
were taken out and any easy-to-reach army equipment was lifted out of her
holds.
The war ended soon after, and no more work was done until some minor salvage by
an Icelandic firm in 1953. In 1967, a British firm salved the prop, condenser
and propshaft. More recently, 60 brass shellcases were salved from under a
5.5in gun which had been mounted on the stern. Amateur divers first visited the
James Eagan Layne in 1954, when it was possible to tie up to one of the
masts which still showed. They haven"t stopped diving this particular
wreck since.
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Spoked agricultural wheels, piles of which can be found throughout the wreck
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Cargo winch upside-down in the second hold, showing a small steam engine
driving the winch
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Connecting rod below the low-pressure cylinder of the triple-expansion engine
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Cauldrons destined for a field kitchen in hold 2
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Cable reel
James Eagan Layne
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The James Egan Layne
In 1940 Britain was fighting alone against an all conquering
German war machine. Europe was completely crushed, and in the Atlantic more
than one hundred and fifty ships, totalling more than a million tons had been
destroyed. It soon became obvious that the U boats were sinking ships faster
than we could build them. In desperation a British Merchant Ship Building
Mission went to the USA to try and order the ships which were so urgently
needed if the battle of the Atlantic was to be won.
Launching the James Egan Layne Filming inside the hull
Although America was still neutral, they were well aware of
the problems facing us, and after some initial wrangling with the ship builders
it was decided to prefabricate ships to a British design as this would speed up
their building and ultimate delivery. Unfortunately the ships were not very
pretty to look at, and there were many critics including President Roosevelt
who called them 'dreadful looking objects'. However you cannot go about giving
ships a bad name, and soon somebody hit on the idea of calling the ships a
Liberty Fleet.
The idea rapidly caught on and soon the ships themselves
were being called Liberty Ships. They could not have picked a better name
because Liberty Ships is exactly what they turned out to be. In their hundreds
these ships ferried men and materials all over the world. Without them the war
could have been lost simply because the Allied supply lines would have been stretched
beyond breaking point through lack of sufficient ships. In 1945 the tide had
started to turn for the Allies, but still the Liberty ships kept transporting
those vital war supplies.
One of the ships involved in these trans shipments was the
James Egan Layne. Built in By the Delta Shipbuilding Company of New Orleans she
was 400 feet long and weighed just over 7000 tons, and during March 1945 she
was engaged on a voyage from Barry in Wales to Ghent, loaded with United States
Army engineering stores. By the afternoon of 21 March the Layne was about seven
miles from the Plymouth Breakwater, just on the edge of one of the most
profitable of all the U boat hunting grounds. She must have been spotted very
quickly, because at 2.35 that same afternoon U-boat 1195 hit the Layne with a
torpedo, which sliced a great hole in her side.
Gun mounting found Looking through a hole in the hull The bow is still in good shape
in bottom hold. Check out the gear, circa 1970
Her holds quickly flooded as did
her engine room, but the Layne was not going to sink without a fight. For
nearly eight hours the crew kept the vessel afloat, but the Captain realising
that she was finished set course as best he could for the shore hoping to beach
her. He very nearly made it.
By now the Layne was taking in
water faster than the crew could get rid of it. So at half past ten that night
the ship gently went aground in seventy feet of water, snugly held firm on the
sandy bottom of Whitsands Bay. Thankfully there were no casualties, and
eventually most of the cargo was salvaged. In the end the loss to the war
effort was minimal, but the gain to the future generations of sports divers was
to prove considerable.
In the early sixties diving in
England was just starting to take off. Even so it was an expensive business,
and not many wrecks had been discovered that were suitable for the amateur
diver. It is hardly surprising then that the James Egan Layne, situated in
relatively shallow and clear water should become so popular. Here was a wreck
within easy reach of the shore by small boat.
Her masts and part of her
superstructure still showed above water, making her exact location childsplay.
The wreck was on an even keel and virtually intact. You could swim through the
holds and down into the engine spaces. The gash where the torpedo struck was
plain to see, and the whole wreck looked like something from a Hollywood film
set. No one who dived on the Layne could forget it, and over the years it
became the most famous and dived on wreck in all England.
Today the James Egan Layne still
lies upright on her sandy bed, but her superstructure and masts have long been
swept away by the winter storms to lie scattered around her on the sandy
bottom. The wreck after some thirty-five years is starting to break up, but
still it is possible to see what she was once like. The bows are still intact
and their flair is still well defined, as are the sides of her hull which loom
out of the sand like black cliffs.
Ironically the storm damage over
the last few years has actually made the inside of the wreck more accessible.
The holds are jammed with twisted iron plates, pipes, old ladders and all the
other paraphernalia of a wrecked ship. Even so there is little danger of
getting lost, as you can easily see an exit hole either from the hold that you are
entering, or in the side of the ship itself.
Liberty ship layout
All wrecks have an abundance of
marine life, but the Layne seems to have more than its fair share. The holds
are often full of silver bass, whilst the bows are patrolled by watchful shoals
of pollack. Pouting make up most of the bottom cover, weaving over all the
debris like a brown zebra crossing, and lurking almost underneath the keel are
some very large ling. Wrasse in all shapes and colours, large green and pink
plumrose anemones, small starfish with colourful coats, the list is endless. On
a summers day this wreck is better than a tropical reef and almost as
colourful. Visibility is often forty to fifty feet, and one of my most enduring
memories is of vaulting over the guardrails on the main deck, and slowly
descending sixty feet down the side of the ship watching my exhaust bubbles
rising to the surface, after being trapped by the light coating of dead mans
fingers that now cover the rusting plates. It was a magical experience, but
only one of many that can be had on this fantastic wreck.
Since the sixties many other
wrecks have been discovered all over the U.K. But not withstanding their
popularity, the Layne has become almost a national dive site, and very many
divers have a special regard for her. So much so that recently when Trinity
House thought to disperse the wreck with explosives, there was such a howl of
protest that they were forced to reconsider. Time however will soon do the job
for Trinity House. So if you want to dive on a piece of history do it now,
because soon only the legend will remain.
One of the masts lies across the hull
If you want souvenirs, one of the
holds contains hundreds of pickaxe heads all neatly lined up in rows. If that
doesn't appeal you can take your pick of various locomotive wheels or pulley
wheels. Near the stern the ship is virtually cut in half where the torpedo hit
it, and again there is a mountain of metal debris with one of the masts hanging
out from the ships deck and supported by the rest of the wreckage. Once more
there are lots of holes and caverns to explore, but here some care should be
taken as quite frequently pieces of metal fall from above into the holds and
could cause a nasty accident. This whole area is littered with bollards,
winches, coils of wire hawser, and many other deck fittings, and over all this
preside the fish.
Liberty ship plan
Wreck of the James Egan Layne This wreck
needs no introduction, as it must be one of the most dived wrecks on the south
coast. It has all the upright ribs along the length of the ship making hundreds
of swim-throughs. There is plenty of fish life on the JEL as well, including
Conger Eels.
The JEL also went down during 1945, by German torpedo from a submarine.
Although she was holed below the water line there was time for another ship,
the HMS Flaunt, to tow her into Whitsand bay where she sunk in a maximum of
24m. Whitsand Bay must have very weak tide because the ship is surprisingly
intact given the fact that she went down almost 60years ago. The cargo is still
visible in places, is more or less still in the holds showing she had a fairly
painless sinking, and been sheltered by the worst of the south coast winter
storms.