2024 Mash Up
2024 left me gobsmacked. So many things I’ve always wanted to do, a bucket list of joy and so devastatingly interrupted by the passing of my Uncle Phil. I needed sport more than ever to keep me going.
Sitting around doing nothing is not a good way to recover from loss.
Not for me, anyway.
I trained in #lanzarote and #mallorca , climbed #sacalobra (again) completed my first #ironman 70.3 in Venice (when sick!) raced #annecy #triathlon olympic distance, went paragliding over #lakeannecy climbed #alpedhuez for real, learned to fly a drone @djiglobal sea kayaked the length of #menorca camping on sandy beaches with just the best people @muchbetteradventures raced Weymouth 10k, circumnavigated #portland by kayak with @channeleventsuk and saw a dolphin, learned to roll my kayak (work in progress) Dived with #lundy seals and bought some shares in racehorses!! I don’t think I’ve been caving or cave diving once, but there is more to life and I’ll get back to it when the mood takes me.
People keep trying to get me to slow down. Why would you do that? I like my life how it is. Why would I want to slow down? Life is too short, so make the best of it now. It’s not a dress rehearsal....
Fearless do Kendal
Louise Minchin, Caroline Bramwell, Christine Grosart, Cath Pendleton, Imogen Sykes
“Reveille Reveille Reveille!”
Cath Pendleton’s strong Welsh accent reverberated through the Fearless house.
Christ on a bike. Was it that time already?
We were all getting up to go swimming in Lake Windermere. In November. In the rain. As you do….
The Fearless gang, some of us anyway, had headed up to the Kendal Mountain Festival for a weekend of cycling, swimming, running, kayaking, watching inspirational talks and films, catching up with friends and getting Louise Minchin tipsy, so she had to run a 10km off road race with a hangover!
The weather was its usual November offering in the Lake District – grey and drizzly. Not put off, a gang of us headed North with bikes, kayaks and our tow floats and moved into an Air BNB for a long weekend.
The Ice Queen ‘Merthyr Mermaid’ Cath Pendleton swims in Windermere
I was super keen to go for a bike ride with Caroline Bramwell, who wrote ‘Loo Rolls to Lycra’ – her ironman journey with a stoma. I was also keen to go swimming with Cath Pendleton, known as the Merthyr Mermaid. If you haven’t seen the documentary about her Antarctic swimming, it’s an absolute must. No wetsuits here. She did it in her cozzie.
I’m not into this ice swimming lark so I took my wetsuit, which I was still getting used to. This didn’t stop the snatched intake of breath when I put my face in the water. It was cold. Very cold.
I put Caroline, who had done her swim, into my sea kayak so she could shoot some video. With her hands tied up with cameras, she started to drift down Windermere as she handed me different sets of swimming goggles to try on. My open water ones leaked, so I was after another pair.
While Cath was off networking at the festival, Caroline and I set off for a cold and really rather hilly bike ride. Our plans to cross Windermere with our bikes and ride down the opposite side of the lake were thwarted when a big sign said the ferry was closed. Arse.
Ladies that do cycling
Caroline Bramwell and Christine Grosart
This meant a bit of a different route, taking in a main road with quite aggressive traffic but we managed and finished our 39-mile ride in the nick of time to get back for a shower, change, quick slap of makeup and a taxi into Kendal for Louise Minchin’s gig on stage.
Safely in the VIP lounge at the festival, we prepared to go on stage. I was feeling much less nervous as there is nothing like having done something before, to quash the fear. Something I reiterated when Louise asked her ‘panel’ how to manage fear. Fear isn’t necessarily a bad thing – it keeps you alert and aware as to what can go wrong. Fear can be healthy. But when fear turns to terror, that is the time to call it a day.
I’d spoken at Kendal in 2018 and knew the audience would be kind. I’d also spoken on Fearless in Chester at the book launch, so with these under my belt and with a great presenter, we were in safe hands.
Cath Pendleton, Christine Grosart, Caroline Bramwell, Louise Minchin
Our view from on stage
Flanked by Caroline Bramwell and Cath Pendleton, we were more like Fearsome than Fearless, and the session was fun and heart-warming. What I hadn’t banked on was a book signing afterwards. Fully expecting to leave that to Louise and sneak away to catch my caving friends over at the Petzl Underground Session, I got roped into also signing the books as the queue spilled out of the door. Cath and Caroline were well ahead of the game and had wonderful little straplines to write alongside their signature.
Armed with a sharpie, feeling a total fraud, I just signed my name. This was not at all what I was used to, and I could see Caroline was struggling with the same imposter syndrome.
Cath got around her nerves by talking to everyone at length and making the queue go even slower. It was exhausting and humbling.
Finally, book signing done, we headed to the local Pizza express for a well-earned meal and drink, catching up with the ladies from Her Spirit too.
The group thinned out a bit as we went on a bit of a mission to find a nice pub afterwards.
It was of no consequence to us that Louise had a 10km trail running race to do the next morning, as we continued to top up her wine glass.
Trying to hide Louise Minchin in a pub takes quite some doing and it wasn’t long before folk started staring and whispering and one slightly worse for wear held her captive in a one-way conversation for a while.
I can’t imagine being so famous that you are recognised wherever you go. Thank goodness for online shopping I’ll bet!
We spent the last day of the festival actually watching some films and talks we had planned to see. I particularly enjoyed finally meeting Jenny Graham and hearing about her round the world cycling endeavours. As the weekend drew to a close we all headed home in the grizzly weather exhausted, motivated and with plans afoot for more fearless adventures together.
Fearless
In the summer of 2022, I received a message out of the blue from Louise Minchin.
A quick Google to jog my memory, as I’m not a big viewer of morning telly, and I recognised her straight away.
Take a moment to watch this:
Louise had delivered the daily news from the BBC Breakfast red sofa for many years, getting up before the sparrows to provide that familiar, friendly face that everyone takes for granted while they get ready for work.
Louise was writing a book about amazing women doing amazing things. My immediate reaction was to cringe and pull a face. I don’t consider myself amazing nor what I do as amazing, especially among my peer group which comprises cavers and cave divers significantly better than me.
Louise and her team had been doing their homework and wanted me to take her caving, something she had never done before, and she was super excited about it.
Louise Minchin tries caving. Image: Christine Grosart
Trying to line up two very busy women’s schedules was a battle, but we got there. Louise did brilliantly in her first trip underground, not least because she had kept a lid on her very real fear of claustrophobia throughout.
Almost a year on, following several more adventures with some amazing women, Louise was ready to launch her book, ‘Fearless’.
I was invited to a book launch in Chester, which wasn’t really on my route home from my trip offshore on the diving vessel, Seven Kestrel. Even worse, the ship was due to crew change in Great Yarmouth. This was going to be a hire car job, going round the houses to get to Chester before heading south back home to Somerset.
My office. DSV Seven Kestrel.
Luckily our crew change was on time, and I started driving. I didn’t really have any nice clothes and no time to go shopping. I wasn’t too worried as it was only a book signing, probably in the front window of the local WH Smith or something.
As I got closer to Chester, the WhatsApp messages started to ping about.
“Is there anywhere to change?” I asked, fully expecting to change in the car park.
“Oh yes you can use my dressing room” Louise said. How posh I thought. They have a dressing room in WH Smith? Perhaps it was a Waterstones.
Who knew?
As I got within a few hours of arrival I re-routed my sat nav to the address Louise had given us all. The Playhouse, Chester.
Hm. That’s not a bookshop.
I parked the car and walked into quite a large building. It soon became apparent that Louise had booked the whole thing. It also became apparent that the throngs of people gathering at the bar had all come to see her – and us!
Louise Minchin - ready to launch her book.
We were going to be on stage to talk about our respective chapters in her book.
Oh crikey.
I ran up to her dressing room – which had lamps all around the mirror and everything – and had a quick shower and tried to look presentable. Not easy when you have been at sea for a month and up since 6am.
Note to self – don’t complain to a BBC Breakfast presenter about early mornings!!
I managed to find some of the other women in her book.
Caroline Bramwell sent her description over WhatsApp, and I found her and a few others at the restaurant table.
Caroline had taken up Ironman distance triathlons in later life, having been a self-described couch potato. But that wasn’t the end of the story. Caroline had suffered for many years with ulcerative colitis. After years of suffering, she ended up with a stoma bag.
This is something that many people would feel was life limiting, even life ending – there were people in my family and family friends who had stomas, some with devastating outcomes.
They certainly hadn’t taken up triathlon soon after.
Caroline was a true inspiration and kindly sent me a copy of her book ‘Loo Rolls to Lycra”. Between her and Louise Minchin, I was hooked on the idea of triathlon. Now that I had learned to ride a bike, there was no excuse anymore.
Also sitting at the table were women who had yet to reach my radar. Shamefully (but not my fault) ‘Fearless’ had been sent to my house – but I had not seen my house for a month!
I had not had the chance to read it. I had absolutely no clue who these women were or what part they had played in Louise’s mission to celebrate women doing incredible things.
The whole thing had come about because someone had pointed out to Louise that, whenever BBC Breakfast came on, her male co-host would always introduce the programme, followed up by the female co-presenter Louise, playing second fiddle. When Louise challenged the BBC about this, they said it was because ‘that’s the way it has always been’.
Not really good enough.
Furthermore, Louise was getting tired of hosting men who had done world record this or adventurous that.
Where were all the women?
Weren’t they doing these amazing things or were we just not hearing about them?
The calm before the storm. Signing as many books as she physically can.
Louise went on a mission to find out who these women were, doing the business and to celebrate their achievements; from swimming the channel to the most southerly ice mile; swimming Alcatraz to free diving under ice – in the dark – to cycling across Argentina and of course, caving with me!
It took a while to sink in that there were quite a lot of women out there doing hard core things, amazing things, fearlessly all over the country and the globe in fact – but Louise had whittled them all down to just 18 women. And I was one of them. In fact, until I sat here writing this, that had not really registered at all with me.
Louise Minchin, Caroline Bramwell, Lucy Gossage, Rhian Mannings
I Googled the book and read the reviews from Waterstones book shop.
It had been read by Sir Chris Hoy and Dame Kelly Holmes! They had read about my cave diving adventures. That was just bizarre. I do rather like Dame Kelly Holmes…
Wow - I loved this book. What a wonderful celebration of women's courage, resilience and endeavour. ― Dame Kelly Holmes.
I made my way up to Louise’s dressing room, where she was surrounded by her close entourage and half buried in a landslide of copies of her book, as she tried to sign as many as she could.
After a time, we all started to make our way to our seats in the rather large theatre.
It was packed.
Louise found it hilariously funny that I still thought the whole affair was going to be in a high street book shop!
Whilst the Fearless ladies got deep into conversation, an older gentleman, dressed in tweed and with pink trousers, very well spoken, approached us and asked what our roles were in the book.
“Who’s he?” we mouthed.
“I dunno. Just play along…”
We entertained him for a bit, still wondering who he was and why he was asking so many questions.
A while later Louise appeared out of nowhere and swooshed in to give him a kiss and said “Oh you’ve met my Dad!!”
Let the ground please swallow us up, whole…
It turns out Louise’s Dad is the epitome of the word gentleman and I felt a pang of slight jealousy that her father was so interested in everything she did and was so proud of her. I guess not all fathers are made the same.
Louise was introduced and soon came on stage looking amazing and relaxed as she always does, well-polished after 20 years on live TV.
I looked like something the cat had dragged in.
We were going to be called on stage in groups of four and with no briefing at all, invited into discussion about our respective chapters in the book.
There was method to this madness. Louise wanted an unbriefed, honest discussion with the women in her book and we trusted her entirely to lead us through it and she would never trick us or trip us up.
Louise Minchin, Kadeena Cox, Cath Pendleton, Vivienne Rickman
The evening was incredibly enjoyable and as it went on, all the women in the book, as well as the audience, were being incredibly inspired.
My mind started whirring about what things were possible and how I’d limited myself to being a cave diver by identity and a jockey in a previous life.
My second ride over fences, age 21.
I realised that nobody needed to be pigeonholed as only one thing, that nobody is identifiable by just one thing they’ve done. I suppose it is a bit like being typecast; everyone knows Louise Minchin for being on that BBC red sofa but to me, she was identifiable by being an GB triathlete age grouper who had pretty much started from scratch.
Like me, she had been heavily involved in sport as a youth and we had both abandoned it for different reasons.
My previous life.
It opened up my mind in the most incredible way. I knew I’d gained a lot of weight over the years, with no real goal or target to aim at and the only sport I did was really diving.
Once I’d started cycling it created so may new opportunities for me and the weight started to come off.
But I was still held back by my personal life, where I was deeply unhappy. I couldn’t really be myself unless I was by myself.
I was fed up with conforming to what other people wanted when they gave so little back. My remaining family were much the same – only bringing problems and no positivity at all. So, I created distance there as well.
With my newfound freedom, having removed the ‘mood hoovers’ as I call them, my whole world opened up in front of me and I could breathe again.
Lucy Gossage, an oncologist and ultra-runner and triathlete, winning Ironmans and all sorts, put it very well when she said that she was so lucky to have a body that functioned and allowed her to do these things. She saw being able to do things that other people find too hard, was a privilege and she almost felt it was a crime not to take advantage of that.
Don’t mess with this lot! I don’t know how many GB medals, ironmans or channel crossings are in that lot, but quite a few!!
I came away from that incredible evening slightly hungover and incredibly motivated.
It gave me permission to be me again.
And for that, I cannot thank Louise and the other 17 Fearless women enough.
In chapter order:
1. Anaya and Mitali Khanzode – Escape from Alcatraz
2. Christine Grosart – Wild Caving
3. Cath Pendleton – Freediving Under Ice in the Dark
4. Belinda Kirk – Overnight Dartmoor Crossing
5. Zainab (Zee) Alema – Rugby
6. Sophie Storm Roberts – Cycling
7. Mollie Hughes – Mountaineering
8. Caroline Bramwell – Long Course Triathlon
9. Lucy Gossage – Team Hike Bike and Paddle Board
10. Vivienne Rickman – Mountain Swimming
11. Kadeena Cox – Indoor Track Cycling
12. Rhian Mannings – Hiking
13. Mimi Anderson – 1200km Cycle Across Argentina
14. Lizzie Carr – Stand Up Paddleboarding
15. Anoushé Husain – Indoor Climbing
16. Rhiane Fatinikun – Hiking
17. Susie Chan – Ultrarunning
Not every donut has a hole in the middle...
We had long had an invitation from the French caving club to dive a new sump which was very close to the Foux de la Vis. The group, as ever, helped carry our kit in the heat and set about the entrance of the dry cave with explosives to make passing the gear a little easier.
We had a little information on the sump and in our usual plan of attack, added a little helium to our larger bottles and took some oxygen along too, so that we had all angles covered. In exploration, you never know what the cave will do – if it will go deeper, if it will surface, if it will close down or open up in to caverns measureless to man.
We knew that someone had been in there before but had very little information on how it ended.
We lowered the cylinders through a boulder choke and kitted up in a narrow rift.
I set off surveying the existing line in very poor, milky visibility (barely 2 metres) and Rich went ahead to try and find the way on.
We came across all sorts of different lines, one of which had broken and was heading back towards the entrance. We spent some time cleaning this up and very shortly came to the end of the line. It was only at a depth of 21m and some 36 metres surveyed distance.
We had a good poke about in rifts below and above but they were too tight and definitely not worth pursuing. I stuffed Rich into one with the line reel and he laid about 8 metres before climbing back towards me, shaking his head.
The team got the gear out in good time, in between eating lunch and drinking red wine, which had clearly been smuggled past their wives that morning in coca cola bottles……
The walk up hill was hot and my ankle didn’t like it, but we were soon at the café in St Maurice de Navacelles drinking cold beers while I entered the survey data and produced a stick map.
D-Day in the Perdreau
I would be lying if I said I wasn't just a bit nervous or under pressure the night before this dive.
Our last attempt was thwarted by my failed attempt to pass the almost vertical rift in zero vizibility, which we now realised was due to a very loose, sloppy polyprop line. We had made attempts to fix it, but ultimately, it needs to come out and a heavy line put in.
We had a quick breakfast and drove over to the parking spot to meet the French from the CLPA, who were keen as ever to help us.
Beautiful hills are the backdrop to our expedition
After a lot of banter and greetings, Jean, Etienne and three others offering surface support, set off to the cave entrance and shifted the gear through the small boulder choke. this consisted of a pair of 12s, a pair of 15s, two deco bottles of oxygen, and 4 7litre bottles for Jarvist and Tim. plus all sundry bits and bobs you need for diving, like masks, fins and regs etc.
We embarked on a mammoth lowering session which involved pulley cars and 'staged' people but it worked fantastically and all the gear was at the bottom of the pitch in not much more than an hour from leaving the surface.
Rich and I dived to the airbell and Jarvist and Tim did an excellent job of helping us unkit and carefully pulling our big bottles up the slope, to get them ready for re-kitting in sump 2.
I got into the water first and with a little help, managed to kit back up again in the narrow rift and float around a bit, trying to keep warm whilst Rich went through the same process. We were handed our deco bottles and had agreed to get them to the other side of the 'annoying flop'. Sump 2 is a very short dive to another airbell which is passable by belly flopping over a narrow rock bridge which gets in the way. We passed our deco bottles over this and I found a good place at 6m to drop them, quite close to airspace.
We set off with the intention of picking up my line reel from where Oz and Joe had left it last year. The cave appeared to be going deeper, but on recent inspection, it may stay at -30m for a while at least.
Sump 1 in perdreau-Fourmi
We set off along the rift and the viz had cleared from our last dive a little, but it was not perfect despite being given 2 days to settle.
We continued for a while and were both very surprised to meet an upwards line into airspace. Somehow we had overshot the junction which takes us to the 'new' line. Confused, we went back on ourselves and realised that, in our efforts to avoid the appalling floating polyprop line which had taken off into the roof of the rift, we had swum past the clothes pegs and other general tatt. Even more surprising was that the floating line had hidden itself so far up into the roof, it was quite an effort to pull it down and put it back into the downwards rift which was looking empty.
Jean Tarrit - my hero!
We made several attempts to fix it but ultimately, polyprop sucks and it will be coming out next time.
We continued on the correct path, having wasted a few minutes.
Original survey which we extended quite a lot
Geologists! Apparently it would be good if we were to head south west and not north if at all possible!!
We very soon came across the 'new junction' and set off along Oz and Joe's line. I surveyed the last leg whilst Rich untied the line reel that had sat quiet for a year and once I had underlined the numbers in my wetnotes, Rich turned to me, reel at the ready and smiled an 'Ok?' I nodded and we set off along beautiful rift passage, horizontal and about 30m depth, dipping to 34m temporarily. The rock was sharp, pale, sculptured and pretty. the passage was 10m high and 2m wide at the widest part.
Rich made a lovely, tight line with good tie offs and I bimbled along behind, counting knots, recording the depth and the compass bearing. It was heading north and all I could think of was that poor geologist who was desperate for the cave to go in the opposite direction!
The thing is, it might yet as it has already done one weird corkscrew and we emptied the reel as the rift started to close down - a sign maybe that we should be looking elsewhere now for the continuation.
The Coudouliére is known to connect from dye tracing and that cave corkscrews considerably before settling on a path - and it goes deep. It currently lies at 1650m long and 100m depth.
We looked at the floor nervously waiting for it to engulf us into the depths - but it never did. It just started to pinch up and Rich was getting itchy feet in large 12 and 15 litre bottles. The reel emptied at just the right time.
Surfacing from sump 1
We dived back in appalling vizibility which was very patchy and were relieved to get back to our deco bottles at 6m with no deco incurred. We had spent 36 minutes in the sump with an average depth of about 20m.
We returned to expectant sherpas and delivered the empty reel and Rich was pre-occupied with the fact that he found his long lost halcyon knife!! We were helped out of the water and out of our cylinders by Jarv and Tim.
I was absolutely freezing - I had somehow managed to be the first in the sump and the last out - so I got an extra 10 minutes of coldness either end! We climbed out and I was generously given something sugary by the resident diabetic. He'll live! (probably).
We had a shivery dive out. I went ahead and Rich followed, exiting the sump at a rate of knots even I found alarming! Clearly he wanted out! We changed into warm fleecy caving undersuits - the posh element changed into fourth element underclothes!
We started packing up and getting gear ready for hauling and we were out of the cave, with our gear back at the car, by 6pm!! Unbelievable! Many thanks to the gang for their help - Elaine, Duncan and Gerick turned up later in the evening to help on the surface as well.
We retired to the campsite to shower and get tarted up for an evening meal in St Jean de Buéges - a timely place - but devoid of champagne :-(
The chic St Jean de Bueges
Disappointment and spiders
Nathan couldn’t be around today, but Elaine and Duncan kindly agreed to come and help us shift gear into the Perdreau and their help was very much appreciated. Within a couple of hours, all of our gear was assembled at the sump base and Oz and Joe were getting ready to dive.
Osama prepares to dive in the Perdreau-Fourmi
The existing survey of the Perdreau (Siphon Nord – North Sump) gets a bit flaky at sump 2. It is merely reported to be 100m long with a maximum depth of -18m. Oz and Joe were to go in and survey the sump properly with station depth, direction and distance and to survey as much of the new line as they could.
They dived a pair of 7l ‘safety’ bottles through sump 1 to allow divers to start sump 2 on fresh cylinders and also to add a bit of safety for the return journey back through sump 1 incase a diver had a problem or a cylinder go down which was unfixable.
The water is cold and we were in wetsuits, so hanging about in the cold water because of a problem wasn’t really an option here.
Joe adjusts to CDG style diving!
Joe and Oz came back with survey data confirming what we had hoped for. The length of sump 2 was indeed 100m and the new line was in addition to that. They managed to survey the first 10m of their new line before gas and cold turned them back.
Meanwhile, Rich and I sat huddled up at sump base, kitted up in wetsuits and wrapped up in suit bags and oversuits to keep warm while we waited over an hour for them to return.
After a moment of worry and ‘what happens next’ planning, Rich and I were about to leave the dive base to go and get warm on the surface and hatch an action plan when their lights could be seen returning back to dive base.
They were so cold they could barely speak – but they had done an awesome job of painstakingly surveying the sump until the new line and a third of that too.
Joe writes:
“We dived through Sump 1 with the aim of re-surveying the existing line in order to provide data on the position of the start of the new line laid in the previous dive. Although the existing line was tagged, this was very loose in places and so each section between belays was measured with a measuring stick along with depth and azimuth information.
The full data will be added to the survey held by Nathan Boinet, however the junction with the new line was measured at 83m from the start of Sump 2 putting the total distance (including the new line) at around 121m. Gas reserves prevented the full survey of all of the new line, however its overall length (from knots and tags) as well as trending direction was noted from the previous dive.
A possible further new passage was briefly investigated on the return through Sump 2 which, from the general direction and type of passage (matching the one in which the divers had laid new line) was thought might bypass the rift to connect with the new passage.”
Then it was mine and Rich’s turn to dive and hopefully extend the line in the new passage. We both had a whiff of trimix in slightly bigger cylinders to aid with the depth and clear thinking in cold water.
We warmed up and kitted up, before setting off through sump 1 without issues. We climbed out of the water and got fairly quickly into sump 2. As we set off, it was obvious that the visibility hadn't settled since our last dives here and Oz and Joe surveying had inadvertently stirred it some more.
The rift half way through the sump is narrow and it's impossible to dive through it, never mind survey it, without touching the walls which expel a powder-like dust which hangs in the water and doesn't move on as there is no flow here.
I dived through what I thought was the rift and met the junction with the airbell. I turned downslope and was now in completely zero visibility. I felt uncomfortable as the line was very, very loose in my hand and there seemed to be miles of it and no belays.
Entrance to the Perdreau-Fourmi - always smaller than we remembered!
I'm used to diving in zero visibility and it never worries me - unless the line is so poor that following it blind becomes dangerous.
At that moment, my hand followed the line into a pile of boulders and seemed to be snaking in amongst them. I couldn't feel any space around me or ahead of me and I knew the line had gone into a line trap, pinched between boulders, possibly metres from the actual way through.
I'm not playing this game! I've been here before, upside down in a boulder choke in zero viz, following slack line, with the clock ticking, only that time I was in Wookey 25 and I was trying to get home....
Not today.
I figured if I couldn't find my way into the cave, there was even less chance of finding my way out. I couldn't see what the line had done to even attempt fixing it. I backed upslope and tried to turn around. I could hear Rich bearing down on me and I felt around for his thumb and pulled it. He got hold of my thumb and pulled it back, indicating that he understood my signal to go home.
We learned a lot from this dive. With little or no flow, the cave does not clear while divers are in there so our only hope from now on is to fix that line and make it followable in the worst visibility, which is the first job for our next attempt at the project in 2012.
Disappointed, but certain that I had made the right decision, we left the cave and just managed to get all the gear out before dusk.
But not without drama!
Oz got half way through the boulder choke and I was close behind when I heard the most blood-curdling scream! Oz was wailing like a girl and I thought he'd either been squashed by a rock or had met a 'vipére' or something.
No, there was a "f***ing tarrantula" in the boulder choke and Oz was face to face with it!
I tried to belittle it with sentiments of "It's only a cave spider" and "It can't be that big"...
Anyway, I got into the choke myself and OMG!!! It was not only huge, but extremely ugly. It's eyes were shining and everything!
We scared it away - which took some doing - this thing wasn't scared of anybody…It didn't scurry or scuttle like normal spiders..this thing crawled. It was disgusting!!
We managed to get back for tea and medals and Rich and I declared that we wanted another day off tomorrow to sit on the beach, swim and sunbathe and do the square root of bugger all!
The church bar
January 2019
Cave & Wreck Night, Netherlands
We always love heading to the Netherlands for Cave & Wreck night.
This event has been running for many years and the venue has grown to now be hosted in a huge church, which is the only venue big enough to take the 400 divers who attend.
What's even more impressive is that behind the altar is a bar!
They don't muck about in the Netherlands!
I’ve spoken here several times and this time Rich Walker and I were a double act, giving a catch up on exploration in Izvor Licanke, Croatia.
Rich has always tried to get up in the pulpit to give his talks but always worried about going up in flames!
It is becoming a tradition to be fed some serious gourmet, multi course meal at JP Bresser’s boathouse and he always raises the bar to show off his culinary skills. Accompanied of course by some serious wine from the caving regions of France.
It’s great to catch up with the GUE gang who come here from all over Europe and listen to inspiring talks about diving projects all over the globe.
View from JP and Anne-Marie Bresser’s boathouse in Netherlands
From cave diving discoveries to wreck documentation, the evening is packed with updates on what the GUE community has achieved in the last 12 months.
The following day, slightly hungover, we were treated to a thai kick boxing session at JP’s local gym, Gym Suppan. I can honestly say it is the most fun I’ve had in ages!
February
The next month I went to give a talk on caving to Bradford on Avon scouts and was treated to a busy church hall full of enthusiastic children asking intelligent questions.
I love inspiring youth to give caving a go and hopefully they’ll be the next generation of cave explorers.
Bradford on Avon Scouts
In March I headed out to a small platform called the Saltire. I was covering their regular medic who had to go home, so bizarrely I was the only person on the helicopter! Apart from the pilot of course – and she was female too!
I’m not sure if women have ever outnumbered men on a North Sea helicopter but it was nice to think it could have been the first time or at least one of very few.
There was only 14 of us on board, basically keeping the place ticking over until the decommissioning process.
International Women’s Day was happening and I was asked by Women Fitness magazine to write an article. I was excited at the opportunity to write for a non-diving, non-caving audience and slightly embarrassed that I was not the typical skinny or athletic type that adorned the glossy pages.
Even as a jump jockey I was always strong and solid and never waif thin enough to maintain a career on the flat.
What the hell, I thought – and I got writing.
Recce Day
Tuesday and D-Day!
It was time to see what Oz and Joe had done with my line reel in the passage Rich and I found last year, and on Oz's advice, to check it really was still going before we threw a big team and trimix at it.
We were very lucky to have Jean Tarrit and Claudine from the CLPA come along to help us underground and they did a great job of getting everything down to the sump's edge in under an hour.
Jean and Claudie
Jarvist and Tim set off into the sump wearing equipment I am too young to have ever seen before....but it seemed to work as they crossed the sump, tidied the line so that it was tight and immaculate and they preserved the visibility well.
Rich and I were to follow about 30 minutes later to give them a chance to rig a ladder to make climbing out of sump 1 much easier and to place a few bolts for ropes and general helpful tatt.
They did a great job and Rich and I kitted up whilst Jean and Claudine went up the ropes to get warm and get lunch.
We crossed the sump easily and had the luxury of walking straight up the ladder fully kitted without breaking sweat and straight down into sump 2.
Chris on the exit of sump 1
We dived to the end of the line, surveying last years new passage again as we went and hit 30m depth and my line reel.
The line had been beautifully laid by Oz and Joe and the reel was well tied off at the end.
I shone my cave hunting torch down the ongoing passage and could see large cave ongoing for at least 20m. Satisfied, we cleaned up and left, very much looking forward to the return trip on Friday, to allow the viz to settle after a couple of days.
Caverns Measureless
A good day out…
We met up with Nathan as planned at 10am in the car park closest to the cave. He had brought a friend along to come and help, called Mario. Mario is 25, a new member of the CLPA and was clearly being given some sort of induction involving carrying diving gear half a kilometre in the heat – none of which was his!
Nathan explained that he was the first person to dive the first sump in this cave 15 years ago!
Passing dive grear through the entrance boulder choke - which is full of spiders…
We made it to the entrance with a bit of prickly bush bashing and a shin-bashing dry riverbed. Here, we gathered kit by the entrance and sent Nathan ahead to check that the boulder choke was safe (he was concerned that the winter floods might have caused it to move and become unstable). He called up that it was and we followed, ferrying ten 7 litre cylinders, 5 divers wetsuits, equipment and lead (top tip – unless you are all diving at once, share lead!!!!) fins etc and a bolting kit and rope, in case it was needed for the climb out of the water at the end of sump 1.
Rich and I were to dive first and see how far we could get. It is reported that the winter floods rip the line out of these sumps, so we had plenty of line ready to go in and loads of snoopy loops for belays, if required.
Underwater sump 2 in Perdreau-Fourmi. Image: Christine Grosart
A line was tied off at dive base and water levels were extremely low. We passed all the equipment down the ropes and Rich and I kitted up in 7mm wetsuits and sidemount gear with a little buoyancy and set off into sump 1. This is 70 metres long and has a maximum depth of 21 metres. The sump was crystal clear with a blue tint as many of these Herault sumps have. Nathan followed five minutes behind with the bolting kit and rope.
The line was there…..but very slack and we took in metres and metres of loose line. It had been laid in zig zags across the passage and every belay except one had come free. We tied up the loose stuff as best we could and surfaced in a large air chamber with the reported climb in front of us. A thick rope was already in place, to our relief and we climbed up the rock face to land on a ledge above. We started down the jagged rock through some holes which led to the start of sump 2. Again the line was in place, but this time was much slacker and was combined with old, French washing line. I tried to tie some of it together in case the visibility was decreased on the way home
We flopped into sump 2 and very soon surfaced in a bit of an airbell with the continuation ahead. Annoyingly, this meant a brief excursion above water, crawling on hands and knees and falling face first into the water on the other side of a rock barrier. Rich dived in front and I couldn’t help but giggle through my regulator as I watched this GUE technical instructor, our lord and master, crawling on his hands and knees then wallowing unceremoniously, helmet and all into the water face first, fins waggling in the air. You had to be there……
Rich dived ahead with the line reel and, after a narrow rift, soon came across the end of the white French dive line. It was tied off to a rock spike pinnacle and the line was wrapped around it several times, almost in a statement. Here we go……
Rich tied my line reel into to line and began to pay out line into the rift ahead. It was a narrow, inclined 45 degree rift and I deployed my extreme-tek backup torch to spot the way on. This long, narrow beam hunted out a widening in the passage lower down whilst Rich searched for tie-offs as he went higher. He indicated to me to tie the line off as he went and two belays later, the viz started to go. Ten metres of progression and I could hear, but not see, Rich scrabbling and scraping ahead and not finding anything to tie the line to, he wriggled back towards me. I fended off waggling fins and coiled up loose line, whilst Rich began to reel back in towards me and gave me a thumbs up and ‘turn around’ signal. I pulled a snoopy off a rock and the rock simply broke in two and fell off the wall. The whole cave is made up of porous, fragile and friable rock which simply won’t tolerate interference.
We dived back on thirds and I kicked on ahead looking for a better way on as I simply didn’t believe that this nasty rift could be it. I got ahead of Rich and deployed my extreme-tek cave spotting torch and carefully examined the wall to my right. I noticed a pile of boulders a bit above me and, using Rich on the line as a lighthouse, swam up and over to have a look. I shone my torch down a large, ongoing railway tunnel of a passage which was ongoing as far as my torch could penetrate – at least 20 metres. There it was. The lost way on was stretching out in front of us. I signalled to Rich and he came over to have a look and we stared at each other in amazement.
Then, Rich tapped his watch and I tied two snoopy loops onto the line and built a rock cairn to signal to Joe and Oz where to tie their line off and we set off home.
We surfaced between sumps 1 & 2 to explain to Nathan what we had found. I stumbled over my French in excitement but he got the idea! Nathan had surfaced in the airbell found by the British team 3 years ago and confirmed it as a ‘cloche’ – closed off airbell.
We all dived back to base and Oz and Joe kitted up. I gave them very clear instructions and directions about what we had found and what to look for. We left the line reel for them in between sumps 1 & 2.
Meanwhile, Rich and I got changed into something more comfortable and began hauling gear with the help of Nathan, back up the pitches. We got everything except Oz and Joe’s kit out of the cave by the time they returned.
They had tied into the line at the cairn and set off down the railway tunnel – which Joe declared was far bigger than any railway tunnel he had seen – and laid 36 metres of new line to a depth of 30m where gas reserves turned them around.
Osama and Joe kit up in sump 1
We hauled their gear out and began the soul destroying task of getting kit back to the cars which ended in doing so by torchlight as the moon rose steadily.
The day by far exceeded our expectations and a return trip this week is planned to resurvey sump 2 from scratch, as Nathan does not have proper data - and survey the new line and add some more, having decanted as much trimix into exploration bottles we can, in case it goes deeper.
Nobody wants to do deco in this cave in wetsuits.
![Push [Poŏ SH] - by Rich Walker](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/652d025f8e316238da9f6267/1701721593090-NQBMIM6BSQVV3174KHML/file_1440x1080_014833.jpg)
Push [Poŏ SH] - by Rich Walker
It sounds a bit silly really. To push a cave. A cave is an empty void, and difficult to push in the conventional sense like you would push a car that won’t start. Pushing a cave means, to the cool kids, to extend the limit of exploration. To go further in that cave than anyone has been before. You have to be careful here as it is very easy to sound like you are lost up your own arse. I suppose that would need some sort of pushing to rectify as well.
Kit stash at the bottom of the pitch in Perdreau-Fourmi
The Perdreau Formi is a bit of everything in a cave sense. It starts with an awkward boulder choke at the entrance. For the uninitiated, a boulder choke is a pile of rocks, stuck and hopefully wedged in the passage of a cave. We are fortunate that this choke is normally dry, so we can get through it without dive gear. This often involves some pushing as well, but more like what you would do with a car. Or a turd.
Once you have got past the choke, you arrive in a large chamber at the top of a 45degree slope. The slope is slippery, but manageable. We put a rope on it though and descend down the slope well protected as at the end of the slope is a vertical drop, 20m high. If you were to loose your footing on the slope and fall off, you might be lucky to land in the sump with a splash, but you would probably bang on a few rocks on the way down, and more likely splatter somewhere in the boulder strewn area at the bottom. You might survive, but then you’d be faced with being pulled up the 20m pitch, up the slope and pushed (there’s that word again) through the boulder choke again.
Tim Webber and Jarvist Frost had done a fantastic job sorting out the vertical section of this cave. They had built a system of tensioned lines, pulleys, hauling lines and brakes that would have looked good on a Spanish galleon. Moving the equipment up and down the pitch was considerably easier than the brute force methods we’d employed last year, and made the trip run significantly faster.
Christine kits up in sump 2
The sump at the bottom of the pitch is well lined, and normally clear. We dived it last year and it was a short, but very pretty trip. The walls are white and the water has a blue tinge to it. The passage twists around, through an easy restriction to a maximum depth of 19m, where it comes up steeply into a large airbell.
It takes about 5 minutes to cross this sump, whereby you are faced with a steep wall 3m tall, at about a 70degree incline. The way on is this way. Climbing the wall is precarious, but manageable with small cylinders. The second sump is found on the other side of this wall at the bottom of a couple of round pots.
Tim and Jarvist had been hard at work in the airbell too. They had installed for us a wire ladder to climb the wall, a gear line to clip off bigger cylinders and similar assistance on the descent into sump 2. This was to be critical when we returned later in the week.
Junction formed by Christine in 2011 when she discovered the way on in the Perdreau-Fourmi sump 2
Diving in the second sump, the line is not so good. It is often loose, and many belays have come free, so the first dive this year was to check the state of this line, effect some repairs and to have a quick look to the end of the line laid by Joe Hesketh and Osama Gobara on last years project. Their line was excellent and the reel was there waiting for our return. The line ended at a depth of 29m.
The passage had dropped down 20m from the tie-in on the main line and we had been concerned about the cave heading into deep water. Spending a few minutes looking at the way on was time well spent, as it seemed that the passage levelled off, at least for as far as we could see. This was good news to us - shallow means more time exploring and less decompression.
Christine and I had a chat back at the surface about our decompression strategy. We had expected the cave to head deeper much more quickly than would now appear, which would require a more significant decompression strategy - this in simple terms meant a lot of decompression gas was needed.
Given our look at the end of the line, we decided not to pull in the big decompression cylinders, and stick with a smaller volume of oxygen, for use at 6m, rather than the big cylinder of 50% nitrox for 21m decompression. This was a gamble, but would make the logistics significantly easier. For our return dive to “push” the cave, we had mixed gas for a maximum of 60m in two large 15 & 12L cylinders each, and a small 5L cylinder filled with oxygen for decompression. We were diving in wetsuits, which in 11C water would be a push on a longer dive, but as long as we limited the dive time to an hour, we figured we’d be OK.
New passage from 2011 explorations
On the day of the dive, the gear went in very smoothly with assistance from Jean Tarrit and friends from the CLPA. These people have been so good to us in our efforts here, and never fail to turn up to help out. It’s not always the same people though, so maybe word is getting out ;-) All we needed to haul in was the cylinders, the deco gas and the wetsuits, as we’d left all of the other gear in after the first dive.
Chris and I dived through sump 1 and were ably assisted by Tim and Jarvist, and we pushed and they pulled our heavy cylinders up the rope to the start of sump 2. Kitting up in sump 2 was a bit more awkward, but again our helpers did a sterling job of pushing us into the water ready to dive. The oxygen was handed down, and we set off.
After depositing the oxygen at a suitable place to do the deco, we headed off down the line. This had come loose again and floated into the ceiling (I hate blue polyprop). We missed the junction as it had itself floated into and behind a crack in the ceiling, and we arrived at the old end of the line. Very puzzled, we backtracked, and this time spotted the junction, more visible from the other angle. We still weren’t pushed for time, so we headed off to the end of the line. Pushing on through a patch of low visibility left from our dive 3 days previously, we soon came across the start of Joe and Osama’s line. Junction marked, and away we went, soon reaching the reel that had been waiting a year for our return.
I picked it up, and looked at Chris. She had her survey gear out, and we exchanged an OK and we started to swim. I like to keep the number of tie offs to a minimum, and if possible to have spotted the next one before I leave the current one. This makes the surveyors job much easier, as the line doesn’t wave around, and tying off takes time, slowing down the act of pushing. The cave made this pretty easy, as it soon turned from large open passage into a narrow rift, 2m across at an angle of about 45degrees.
It was probably 20m high in places, pale walls with delicate mineral veins extending from the rock. It was pretty silty, and as usual in places less well travelled, percolation from your bubbles traveling up the walls quickly reduced the visibility, meaning that constant motion is preferable. I put in 6 tie-offs before the reel was empty, a total distance of around 50m. Looking ahead, the rift appeared to get narrower, although probably passable. My gut tells me that there is something else though. Maybe it surfaces at the top of the rift, or perhaps there is another connection we have missed along the new line.
I glance at Christine thimb the dive. She returns the compliment and we head for home, 25 minutes after leaving the airbell. Now it was time to see how well my line was laid and whether it was easy to follow in low visibility. My ability to write the blog says that it was good enough, I suppose.
We got back to the oxygen and given that the dive had not gone anywhere near as deep as expected, decided to not bother with any decompression and get back to the warm. We surfaced at around 40 minutes, with an empty line reel, my knife that I had found after loosing it on the first dive and a full survey of the line we’d just laid. A proper good day out!
Chris holds up the empty line reel.
Birmingham to Kendal
Christine on main stage at Diver show, Birmingham.
Following our trip in Croatia discovering yet more cave in Izvor Licanke, I was chuffed to have an article about it published in ‘Diver’ magazine and even more pleased to be asked to talk on the expedition on the Diver stage at the Birmingham Dive Show at the NEC.
The stage had hosted several of the diving world’s glitterati and it felt odd to be among them.
Signing autographs at the Birmingham Dive show
It wasn’t long before another incredible event cropped up and I was asked by Steph Dwyer to speak at the cavers session at the Kendal Mountain Film Festival.
In my lifetime I’ve dabbled in rock climbing and ventured up a few small mountains but never really progressed beyond that as caving and diving took over my life. I’m far more likely to be found crawling into a mountain than climbing up it.
I felt a little out of place at such a prestigious event. I took my copy of Sir Chris Bonington’s autobiography with me in the hope I’d get to meet him and ask him to sign it.
There we were, sitting in the VIP room and Sir Bonington and his wife were right there. Overcome by shyness (me, really?) I couldn’t bring myself to introduce myself nor ask him and I just sat there instead, head down and feeling very un-brave.
I don’t often get overcome by nerves and usually harness them to perform my best. The size of the audience really shouldn’t make a difference and I’m very much a believer that you should always put in 110% into your talk delivery whether you are talking to 4 people or 400.
The auditorium was packed and fully subscribed. There was a buzz in the air. Jason Mallinson was also talking about Thailand and as he was on later, I joked that Imogen and I were his warm up acts!
Christine, Jason, Imogen.
Imogen Furlong, whom I’d never met before was a lovely lady and excellent caver and delivered a great talk, which cannot have failed to motivate anyone to get underground.
I had the easy slot as I was showing my film premiere of ‘The Master Cave’, shot during real cave diving exploration and featuring never before seen parts of the cave thanks to the incredible Paralenz Dive Camera.
It is hard enough exploring virgin cave, never mind underwater with rebreathers, all of the team needing to dive and in 7 degrees of water. Filming exploration in action is not something that is done very often.
The evening was electric and I was proud to show the film that had been two years in the making and grateful to the whole Licanke team for helping me make it.
To be a Fellow
"Dear Miss Grosart,
I am writing to confirm your successful application for Fellowship of the Royal Geographical Society (with IBG)."
Well.
That's not something I ever expected!
Someone at work asked me why I explored caves. What did I get out of it?
They didn't see the attraction.
There's no money in it. In fact, it drains your own personal finances. No prestige.
No job prospects. No gold medal. Rarely any recognition other than the occasional nod of approval from your mates in the pub that night.
You get to call a piece of this planet your own for an unknown period of time - until that is, another human goes there after you. Until then, it's yours.
But honestly? Nobody really cares.
The Royal Geographical Society (RGS) is the United Kingdom's learned society and professional body for geography, founded in 1830 for the advancement of geographical sciences.
Today, it is the leading centre for geographers and geographical learning.
The Society has over 16,500 members, with its work reaching the public through publications, research groups and lectures.
Through my work with Ghost Fishing UK, I had come to the attention of Paul Rose, the popular explorer, former vice president of the RGS and tv presenter.
My CV, which was rather rather unsung, showed many years of cave diving exploration in France and Croatia.
Chris preparing to push the sump at the end of the Garrel
I was mapping new, uncharted territory in stunning underwater caves across Europe but very few people knew of it and even less cared.
One of my favourite pastimes is making films about exploration. I want to share our discoveries and show the diving world what goes into virgin exploration, going literally where no other human has ever been.
I never take myself too seriously though - it is meant to be fun after all! There is usually a healthy selection of outtakes to bring me back down to earth.
It meant the world to me and that's why I do it.
The primary reason for Paul's interest was the charity Ghost Fishing UK which was ground breaking, with the largest single collective of divers in the world, the first training course in the recovery of ghost gear and a powerful database of locations, types and impact of ghost gear in British waters.
Run entirely by volunteers, it had changed the lives of over 70 divers and was starting to make a real impact on the perceptions of the marine environment and the damage ghost gear can do, to not only the diving world but the general public.
A long standing, massive issue that was largely taboo and very much hushed up and overlooked, was now being exposed.
An estimated 640,000 tonnes of fishing gear is lost into our oceans on a global scale each year. Whilst great strides and efforts had been made to manage fish stocks and sustainability, huge fuss being made about super trawlers and fighting over fishing grounds...the fact that every commercial fishing vessel has at some point lost or abandoned fishing gear to the ocean to continue ghost fishing, had not even been considered.
My role in the charity covers lots of areas. I set out as a trustee and secretary, while my underwater role tends to always be videography and photography. An image speaks a thousand words, especially to the non diving public, so this is an area I am quite devoted to. I also make films, short AVs and documentaries about Ghost Fishing. I do all the press releases and connect with the fishing communities and make hard won friends and connections who are nervous of our intentions. I call myself the charity ‘dogsbody’.
Ghost Fishing diver. Image: Christine Grosart
I've taught myself all about sound recording, underwater videography, lighting and getting the most out of Adobe Premiere Pro.
I hate not being able to do something - if I can't do it, I have to go and learn how!
It took months and months of work to build, write and test the Ghost Fishing UK training course.
Run over 3 days it is designed to turn carefully selected divers into Ghost Fishing divers, who can work safely as a tight team, in close proximity to ghost nets.
It is immensely satisfying work but very, very time consuming and I admit to struggling to combine both cave exploration with running a charity full time and holding down a high profile job for a significant company offshore.
But hey, you're only on this planet once, I believe, so it is my mission to make the most of it and record as much as I can for posterity, inspiration and creating fond memories to look back on.
Autumn Atlantis
Autumn saw my final trip of 2019 on the Atlantis. The divers were working a little shallower and I had a reasonably quiet trip. We were treated to some stunning sunsets and the views from my cabin were pretty cool too.
View from my cabin in the south north sea.
I was very happy to be invited to talk at the Birmingham dive show yet again. I'm lucky to have such a wide range of topics to talk on.
Last year I talked about my cave diving exploration project but this year I was able to talk on Ghost Fishing.
This was doubly exciting as Ghost Fishing UK had a stand at the dive show for the first time and it was definitely the best thing we had ever done in terms of outreach.
We raised a huge amount of cash for the charity and all the volunteers on the stand, working for free all weekend, were flat out from the second the doors opened.
My talks on the Diver stage were packed, especially Sunday which was several layers deep in standing room only.
There is clearly an appetite for divers to help the aquatic environment and we are very happy to provide them with a pathway to making a real difference.
Boka Atlantis. Image: Christine Grosart
Perdreau set-up day
I decided that embarking on Garrel today would be a silly move. Still with remains of a chest infection, the caving trip, though moderate, is quite long and I am still quite weak, so we decided that the Perdreau-Fourmi was a more pleasant option.
True to form, Jean Tarrit rallied a few friends from his club and they arrived to help us carry our gear in two journeys up the riverbed.
I headed through the entrance squeeze and into the cave to start rigging the 45 degree slope and 15m pitch to the sump pool.
I decided to bring walkie talkies this time and was quite surprised that I was able to communicate from the sump pool to the surface!
Job done in a few hours, I headed over to the Source de Bueges, which sadly cannot be dived. Some pretty dragon flies were in residence.
We had some nice cold pressions at the local watering hole in St Jean-de-Bueges and headed back to the campsite to sort out cameras and have dinner.
Gear stash at the bottom of the pitch in Perdreau Fourmi.
Into the Blue
New cave passage in the Event de Perdreau Fourmi, discovered 2012, Screen grab: Christine grosart
Today was an excellent day - but not without a few teething troubles to get around first.
I picked up a missed call from one of my work colleagues, who was asking where I was. France, was the reply. It seems the great shift screw up had raised its ugly head again, but I doubt I have much to worry about as I am certain I booked this leave. In fact, I booked it in January. So, I tried to forget about it and concentrate on the cave diving.
We headed up to the cave and Jean had brought more friends along to help us. They were practising their SRT in the cave which seemed as good a reason as any to come along.
Jean and Claudie helping in the dry cave
Rich and I dropped the pitch and started to get our gear together. Next problem, Rich finds the team spare mask has shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. It had been in a pocket on one of the harnesses and not protected by a French Pot and had somehow got broken. Never mind. We can live without it and we have another anyway.
The sump is blue and inviting. I get the camera ready and Jean and friends watch us set off into sump 1, before heading out to the sunshine to await our arrival. We tell them we will be 2 hours at most.
Surfacing in the airbell shortly after passing sump 1, Rich and I can't really get our act together and we soon notice a little panting going on. Carbon dioxide. Great.
Chris at the top of the ladder beyond sump 1
We take things slowly and rig the ladder, before hauling the 12 litre bottles up and getting everything into sump 2.
Kitting up in sump 2 was fairly easy this time around and I get ready with the camera. We have a plan to shoot some video of the sump, especially our discoveries from 2011 and 2012. We don't hope for much as it is a small, fiddly sump covered in powder-like silt. But we gave it a go.
We get shooting and with plenty of time and gas, get to photograph and film everything we want to.
Kitting up in sump 2
Then, we had one last job to do.
There was one bit of a chamber left to explore. I had always had a feeling there was more to it than just a boulder pile. So, I dispatch Rich off to take a quick look and a minute later he returned to say it was "Going".
Woo hoo!
Line reel tied in and I sieze the (rare!) opportunity to film exploration in progress.
Rich swam along with his reel and made some nice tie offs and the cave started to head downslope in a fractured, friable passage. It was sculptured and pretty and the water ahead was azure blue.
Chris climbing out of sump 1
Behind Rich it was patchy, rust red and bits and pieces rained down from the roof as the first bubbles ever disturbed the rock.
As the visibility went to zero, I paused at 24m and heard Rich scratching around. I figured he wouldn't be long and steadily, hand over hand on the line, fumbled my way back to the tie off with Rich just behind me.
Happy, we thumbed the dive and had a pleasant swim home in patchy visibility. I stopped to photograph a worm, the type I had not seen before in a sump.
Surfacing back at the airbell, we de-kitted, pleased with the days work.
Not surprisingly, after a recent chest infection and a cold, I had some trouble descending back into sump 2 to get home. Fortunately my bottle of trusty Otravine got me to depth but wasn't keen on getting my sinuses back up again.
Sump 1
It's a divers worst nightmare (well, one of them anyway) and despite hanging around on the way up trying to get my sinuses to let go, it was obvious I was going to get a reverse block.
I did and it hurt a lot, making my eyes water and temporarily blind. Rich took my bottles off and I eventually heard the relieving squeak, followed by some blood and the pain subsided. Not pleasant.
Jean was at the top of the pitch waiting for us as we surfaced. He was worried as we were half an hour overdue. This was probably due to our taking our time in the CO2 ridden airbell. We apologised for worrying him but he didn't mind and we showed him our photos to cheer him up.
Chris holds the empty line reel in sump 2, Perdreau Fourmi
A gang of cavers had showed up to help carry all the gear back in one run, including a very small child who was lugging 2 tackle bags and going better up the hill than I was!
A cold beer in St Jean de Bueges followed by pizza in Laroque seemed a fitting end to a very pleasant day, all things considered. Finally things are going our way.
2011 discovery in sump 2
A Grand Day Out
It was not a pretty sight at 9am this morning!
Last year we were chased all over the French countryside by Jean Tarrit and his friend, Jean-Claude, who were desperate to find us and show us an exciting dive site in a cave called the Garrel.
Ongoing cave. We planned to dive the Siphone des Pas Perdus.
I had visited the Garrel in April 2003 and remember it as an easy, dry and pretty cave with no tackle required. I don’t recall there being a sump, but Nathan Boinet the local activist in these parts, had been dipping his toe in the sumps at the end of the system, some of which came to nothing early on and one which was looking to ‘go’ – but he was diving back mounted 7s and couldn’t fit through the etroiture (squeeze).
So, we were invited to take a look using our ‘techniques anglaise’ (sidemount) and were promised a large group of ‘slaves’ from the CLPA to carry all our equipment.
We were due to meet the French cavers at 9am near St Jean de Buéges but the troops were not to be rallied.
Tim Webber and Jarvist Frost arrived last night having made awesome time – but they were paying for it in exhaustion.
Duncan Smith and Elaine Hill also arrived yesterday – but Elaine was staying firmly between her tent and the toilet block, having eaten something dodgy.
Duncan was up and about, Rich was dragged out of his pit by me and there was no sign of life next door.
The plan was for Tim and I to take a look at this ‘squeeze’ and see if we could pass it. I would go first and sort the line and have a look, then, assuming I would be too fat to fit, as Nathan had insisted on a ‘thin diver’, I would hand over to skinny Tim to continue.
So, having had a minor epic trying to find bread for breakfast, we got on the road and Tim would show up later with Jarvist in tow.
The French team were at the side of the road, half kitted up and there was a buzz in the air. Lots of banter and greetings and introductions went around and after a degree of faff, we set off – minus SRT kits. This concerned us a little as the others all seemed to have them…….Nathan assured us that the climbing was easy and we weren’t to worry. So we didn’t.
Five minutes in to the entrance we were met with a 15m pitch!!
Never mind……The French guy ahead of me descended and Duncan behind me lent me his descender. I attached it to my belt, abseiled down the pitch and sent it back up the rope…..
Dry cave passage in Garrel on the way to the sump.
I could see this being quite a fun trip for those of us minus rope gear.! However, the French were obliging and over the course of several rope climbs and abseils, I employed just about every technique in the book – including those with red crosses through them! I used a stop, figure of 8, Italian hitch and krab, one or two jammers depending on what I could scrounge at the time, a full kit at one stage – loaned by Jean-Claude who can free climb just about anything – someone else’s cows-tail hauling me from above and quite a lot of brute force and ignorance!!
It was excellent fun and Jean was correct in his time estimation. It took 4 hours to get our teams and two sets of divers gear to the sump. There was climbing, crawling and boulder chokes by the bucket load and it was very, very hot and sweaty in there!
But the banter and morale kept everyone going with frequent breaks.
We arrived at the sump and it was large, blue and clear and very inviting. I was desperate to get in and cool down!!
Chris kits up in the sump pool
Everyone arrived on the boulder slope and began unpacking their lunch. It was a natural amphitheatre, with graded seats for the cavers to watch the divers kit up in comfort.
We treated ourselves to sausage roll, taboulé, bread and cheese. Nathan became insistent that it would be better for two people to dive together as the second diver would not get to see anything. I was unsure about this, but as he had dived it and we hadn’t, we went along with his suggestion and Tim and I kitted up together.
The line was broken at the very beginning, so we tied the reel off and set off down the sand slope in zero visibility. I went in front with the reel and we laid 20m of line until we found Nathan’s broken line in situ. We tied into it at a good belay and the water suddenly became crystal clear as we moved away from the sand slope and into a level passage with a boulder floor, about 3m high and 5m wide.
Tim Webber
We patched up the line in one place where it was needed and soon came to the end of Nathan’s line, marked with a 45m tag, just at the start of the squeeze.
I had a good look at it and it didn’t look too bad, so after a quick chat with Tim, I set off through the squeeze and passed it easily, stopping for a moment to make a good tie off at the end, before turning slightly rightwards into bigger passage.
Tim duly followed and continued tying the line off behind me. We moved forward until the passage seemed to come to a bit of a break down and spotted a higher passage so moved on up into that and went forward some more. We laid about 42m of new line altogether after the squeeze.
The biggest problem in this sump was the visibility. It is a static sump so there is no flow to help you. The silt seemed to rain down in clouds from the roof – probably because there had never been any air bubbles in there before to dislodge it.
Furthermore, the roof sloped upwards so bubbles were travelling up the roof ahead of us and raining silt clouds down like swirling mists of powder, right in front of our noses and interfering with our visibility.
This problem began to obstruct progress and I got to a bit of passage where the way on was less obvious and it looked to be breaking down. I stopped to have a good look and was engulfed in red swirling powder – so I thumbed the dive and tied the line off, cut the reel free and we set off back home in awful viz.
Following the thin line home was much easier than I anticipated and we soon arrived at the sand slope and looked up to see the dozen or so cavers lights glowing on the embankment in expectation, all staring at us through the ripples on the surface of the water.
I gave Nathan and the expectant audience a brief explanation of what we had found – in dubious French – and received a round of applause and what looked like an explosion of paparazzi!!
We cleared up, had some water and food and started the journey out en masse, which was not without amusement!
Still minus an SRT kit, I scrounged all sorts of items on the way home. The other brits were having similar epics and we ended up fighting over the sole karabiner for use with an Italian hitch!
The Garrel team 2012
The journey out was a little slicker and we stopped in the ‘Salle de dejeuné’ which Jean explained was the resting place for the original explorers.
We arrived at the last pitch and I was given an SRT kit from somebody and made my way up the pitch. Rich was also donated kit from somewhere but I have no idea how the others got out!
I arrived at the traverse line and was faced with a French caver, lying on his side looking like he wanted to die!
He said in English (cue French accent): “Christine, please can you 'elp me..? Can you take my equipment because I am very, very tired….”
I said “Of course!”
He went on to explain: “I cannot feel my arms or my legs any more!”
Poor guy!
He had left his jammer on the rope and couldn’t face the return journey of all of one metre to retrieve it!!
I offered to take his bag the last 15 metres of uphill crawling and he insisted we do it together!
We surfaced to the flashes of cameras and dusk was settling.
Garrel team 2012
A gang of us returned to the campsite for a great BBQ cooked by Rich and far too much wine!
A grand day out!
Success!
A huge thank you to the CLPA and friends for their support and images.
The Bloody French Cave
The CLPA had been keen for the last few years for us to go and visit the Event de Cambon.
Yes, that’s the entrance….
Frank Vasseur had dived the short, shallow sump about 20 years ago and to their knowledge, nobody had ever been back.
Now, even in his 20s Frank was no slouch. In fact, he was probably considerably fitter and harder than he is now.
I did make a feeble protest that I couldn’t see what we would achieve that Frank could not, but it was information that the cavers wanted rather than caverns measureless. They were intent on digging down from the top of the gorge and this cave was important to them to know if it connected or not.
We said we would take a look.
According to the description, Frank had surfaced and immediately encountered several climbs which got higher and higher. As he was alone, he made a retreat.
Nobody knows what happened after that and Frank could not remember much about the cave at all.
The CLPA wanted us to survey the sump, the dry passage beyond and get a compass direction.
How hard could it be?
So, we met up in St Maurice de Navacelles to have coffee with our sherpas – or ‘slaves’ as Jean prefers to call them and picked up a Disto-X for surveying beyond the sump.
In convoy, we set off down the twisty hairpin bends of the Cirque de Navacelles and parked up at river level by the Vis. The walk to the cave entrance was relatively flat but about 800m.
Christine kits up at the sump edge
Some enthusiastic deforestation then ensued as the French began clearing the snaggy branches and cleared away a grubby little cave entrance. It had filled with stones from the winter rains but by the time Rich and I had rigged our cylinders, the entrance was dug out again.
I went for a quick look inside.
Hmm. This was going to be a fun kitting up spot. Nowhere to stand up, nowhere really to sit. It was what we were used to in the UK but it was a long way to go to dive something like this in France. Oh well.
We passed the gear in to the cave and Rich went ahead and kitted up first. I remained just upslope of him, regularly kicking stones down at him while he thrashed about trying to get his fins on.
Frank’s old line was there but we needed to lay our own knotted line for surveying. The sump pool had gone to zero so surveying was looking less and less likely.
Chris about to dive
Once ready and crammed into the tiny muddy pool, we set off downslope through a squeeze with a rubble floor and sloping roof.
The sump was about 40m long as described and 7m deep. The water cleared after the squeeze and had better dimensions.
On surfacing, there was a near vertical rift – made of mud – and a ladder hanging down from above which was just out of reach and no means of getting to it. It looked as if Frank had dived the sump when water levels were somewhat higher.
Noses turned up, we returned to the start of the sump pool to report our findings. The viz had gone to zero and not good enough for a proper survey.
Then, as if our failure was not enough, then began the thunder. Torrential rain and thunder and lightening crashed all around us and the Cirque de Navacelles while we tried to pack our gear up.
Rich and I elected to walk back in our wetsuits as our clothes were sodden.
We got back to the van and took it in turns to get into the back and change. It was miserable and getting colder.
Jean invited everyone back to his house for a welcome cup of tea and to dry out a little. We made it up to ourselves by watching the video we shot of the new passage in the Perdreau.
Jean was in danger of having a power cut, so we headed back to our campsite to inspect the damage.
Water had infiltrated the front porch of the tent, which was not entirely unexpected and Rich had already moved electrical items to higher ground that morning.
Water had also infiltrated Rich’s Rude Nora caving torch battery which was now no longer working. Meh.
We decided to drown our sorrows in a local pizzeria – but each and every single restaurant in the region were closed. So, back to the campsite for a tin of sausage and beans and leffe beer. We’ve had better days, but that’s the nature of cave diving. It ain’t sun and stalictites all the time.