Christine Grosart 06/05/2024 Christine Grosart 06/05/2024

The French Connection

Christine on her way out of Cregols. Image: Jo Croimins

The Lot region of France, adjoining the possibly better known department Dordogne, is a mecca for cave divers.

I first visited in 2006 as a trainee cave diver and in my sidemounted 12 litre cylinders, had a blast visiting all the ‘classic’ sites such as the Emergence de Ressel, St Georges, Cabouy, Fontaine de Truffe, Source Landenouse as well as the lesser visited sites such as Emergence de Cregols.

The following year I supported Rick Stanton and John Volanthen in dragging all their gear to sump 5 in the Truffe while they pushed the end at sump 12. Subsequent trips were in a similar vein, a mixture of tourist diving, training and exploration. And of course, enjoying the wine, food and scenery the region had to offer, in addition to excellent canoeing on the rivers Celé, Lot and Dordogne.

Going on holiday to the Lot with the Cave Diving Group always leads to adventures and we always took our ropes ladders and dry caving gear to have a ‘day off’ from diving to visit the other caving systems in the region.

Despite visiting the region regularly on and off for almost 20 years, it had never once occurred to me to ride a bike there.

Now, with my newfound passion of cycling and triathlon, I was very excited about visiting such a stunning region and being able to combine my two sports on the same trip.

I was super keen to kick off with a loop of the two rivers that run through the region, the Lot and the Dordogne. Peppered with classic cave diving sites I loosely named the route ‘cave divers loop’ and the 100km mostly flat ride, took in some stunning scenery.

The first thing I noticed was that, by being on a bike, I was obviously going much slower than a car and could notice the classic French buildings nestled in the rock faces, the wildlife and the beautiful summer river ambience that you just don’t notice when you are driving to the dive site, your mind on the job ahead.

I started in Marcilhac-sur-Celé which boasts probably the most famous cave diving site in Southern France, Emergence de Ressel. That would come at the end though, as I set of in the opposite direction to do the route anti-clockwise. I passed through beautiful gorges, passed old water mills and stunning villages. I stopped halfway in Cajarc, hoping that being a Sunday lunchtime something would be open for some proper food. There were a couple of restaurants that claimed to be fully booked and I finally managed to get some nice pastries and a cold cola from the patisserie. I was never really sure if the restaurants were booked or if they just didn’t like English cyclists. I had noted a rather less than friendly tone in France since the Brexit debacle. I’m still not sure what that whole thing was meant to achieve. All it has done is made it harder to take French wine back home.

Not far from Cregols I was somewhat surprised to see the Canyon-Sram ladies pro team bus parked up. I got a bit bedevilled on directions at the roundabout and was very relieved to set off without having any clip-in fails in front of the pro peloton!

La Piscalerie. A nice (but out of bounds) dive worth doing just once.

I set off again in the glorious sunshine and it was getting rather hot as I tackled the only climb in the route. I started to flag a bit over the last 10km and was glad to see the familiar roadside cliffs which indicated the Ressel on my left. It was the first time I had seen the new car park which had been built to accommodate the ever-growing cave diving community.

Back in 2006 you would be lucky to see another car perched on the side of the road near the cave. And if you did, there was a good chance you knew the diver or had heard of them. You would undoubtably end up in a bar with them later.

Now, the car park had been built to get cave divers off the road as the line-up of multiple cars and vans was getting more and more dangerous and unfair to locals. I stopped to take a look. It was absolutely rammed.

I arrived back in Marcilhac-sur-Celé disappointed that the ice cream shop was closed, being a Sunday afternoon.

Feeling the effects of a 100km ride in the heat, I went for a lay down by the river and ate a banana. It was tranquil, apart from the toad chorus that echoed around the Celé and the sound of water rushing down the wier.

I took a day off and fettled my diving gear, thinking about where I’d like to go.

Diving solo isn’t very sociable but I’ve never really had an issue with it. I had got used to diving with others as it was kind of drummed into me over the last 12 years. But I was always capable of diving alone, having been brought up in UK caves where diving as a team wasn’t always possible. I found it much safer than diving with a poorly trained buddy. Poorly trained being the key words. A well trained buddy is a huge asset.

I needed some gas so drove to Gramat to get some fills from Olivair. Olivier set up the gas station just along the road from where we always used to get gas from Frenchman, Andre Grimal. I missed the spontaneous parties and BBQs we would get tangled up in waiting for gas, and the excitement of meeting and befriending other occasional cave divers you might come across at the same time. Andre would test out his homebrew Eau-de-vie on us and it was quite deadly.

I arrived but the gates were locked. He was unlikely to be gone long, so I waited. Then another car pulled up. A Belgian cave diver called Jo was also waiting for gas and we got chatting. He was here with his girlfriend but she didn’t dive, so he was also facing diving alone. It didn’t take long before we were planning dives together and I was grateful of the company.

Over the next week we had some very cool adventures, though mainly in places I had been before. I added some interest by trying to take photos and showing Jo around places he had never been, such as the Cregols. I was amazed to see other divers in there. In years gone by it was the place where you were guaranteed to be alone.

WhatsApp Image 2023-06-07 at 18.15.11.JPEG

We did some touristing and photo dives in Ressel and Truffe and a disastrous fail at trying to find Combe Negre. But I was itching to get back onto my bike and try my hand at an ascent of Rocamadour. It was steep at the bottom but such an iconic climb which still had the Tour de France scrawlings all over it and inside the tunnel. I was utterly delighted to manage a clean ascent with no stopping, in the warm evening sunshine.

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It had always been my plan to visit friends who lived in the south of France and I chose the middle weekend to make a foray, some four hours south, to the Herault region. My first stop of course was to Jean Tarrit in Larzac. Jean has been a friend for many years and he offered me his annexe in his chic and rustic stone house up on top of the Larzac plateau. Of course, I was invited to visit one of his local caves with his friend Philippe who I had done some surveying with several years ago. It was another surveying trip and it was nice to back on rope again. At least, it was until we met the 3rd pitch which was slathered in thick, gloopy mud which took several episodes of pressure washing to remove.

All I could hear from the 3rd pitch was lots of squelching and protests in English that it was ‘absolutely ‘orrible!!”

I decided of course, once caving was done, to go for a bike ride. I had the whole of the Herault gorge at my disposal, including the hairpin climb with stunning views that always offered the gateway to the region. The day began in glorious sunshine as I parked up at St Maurice de Navacelles. I told Jean not to worry about me and I would be fine. So he didn’t. As I climbed the really quite steep ascent above the Herault gorge the clouds started to gather and as I entered the commune de Rogues, I could hear big rolls of thunder in the hills. I got a move on but before long, I was faced with a steep, never ending descent on wet roads covered in slippery leaves and branches.

Do. Not. Crash.

The wind picked up and the heavens opened, accompanied by the intimidating claps of thunder and terrifying lightening, with a deafening crash only a nano second later which went right through me. Despite being quite warm, hypothermia was still a possibility if I stopped, now that I was totally drenched. My gilet was as much use as a chocolate fire guard. I sheltered under a tree which only threatened to fall on me, so I made haste to the next village, hiding under a shop canopy. The place was deserted. Sheets of rain and lightening carried on relentlessly and water poured in rivers down my face, my front, my back and I the visibility was reduced to a number of metres.

I made it to Gournies. I knew there was a cafe there as the rain started to ease off and steam rose from the roads and the river Herault.

I pulled up and asked if they were serving food. Perhaps a sandwich?

Non.

Coffee?

The grumpy guy nodded and in some kind of sympathy, offered me a paper napkin to dry my face. He then delivered the smallest expresso coffee I have ever seen in my life. Cheers dude.

I made it back up the climb to Saint Maurice, which was a lot easier than I imagined and drove back to jean’s place, insisting on taking him out for pizza which turned into yet another epic.

I had to get fuel for my van first, but by the time we found a parking spot and the pizza place, Jean pointed out that we might have to fill up my car again!

I almost crashed the thing laughing!

Next stop was Nimes, a couple of hours further south, to catch up with my old boss Craig Frederick. I hadn’t been to Nimes for about 20 years since my first caving trip to the Herault. It is a fabulous city and I’d really love to dive the Fontaine de Nimes resurgence one day, which currently is only accessible by the French Pompiers for training.

My final ride was a big circuit, taking in Rocamadour and out to Souillac. I was quite out on a limb but it was a cracking day and I think I found the best cycling cafe on the planet! On my way home, thanks to Komoot, I found a cracking flat ride, mostly traffic free, along the river Loire.

The beauty of travelling alone is being able to what you want, when you want and not being beholden to someone else’s plans or commitments. I ate nice food, had great bike rides, did some cave diving, made new friends and reconnected with old ones.

Life is good and I wouldn’t swap it for anything right now.

Christine Grosart 08/12/2023 Christine Grosart 08/12/2023

After the showcave, we will go cave diving...

The campsite is beginning to wind down after the holiday season, but that didn't stop them having their traditional party games in the pool, which are always a great spectator sport!

The idea was to balance on a giant inflatable ring and get pulled towards your opponent, who will try to bash you off your perch with a long pink sausage!

Rich was quite keen to revisit this short, but beautiful cave and we fancied doing our own film this time, with the objective to have shots of the diver swimming towards the camera and a good shot of the entrance rift.

So, I sent an email to Mehdi, the local diver who has access to the source and he duly arranged a dive for us.

Mehdi is a really nice guy and amused us with tales of his adventures the night before his wedding, which involved diving the Esperelle and then rock climbing in the Dourbie gorge, finishing up at about 2am!

We weren’t meeting him until 4pm though, so we looked for something else to do during the day and came across Dargilan show caves. Mum had been rattling on about this for years, so I figured it would be worth a visit, especially as it was only half an hour from the Esperelle.

Dargilan didn’t disappoint and we had ample opportunity to take photos.

After a spot of lunch overlooking the very impressive valley, we set off to the Esperelle to meet Mehdi.

The Esperelle is stunning and although only just over 300m long, drops off to the terminus at -60m. We took trimix and set off, leap frogging to get some lovely video shots and then floated down the beautiful, sculptured shaft at the end of the cave.

We returned with a little decompression and Mehdi kept his customary bottle of white wine in the sump, cooling for us.

Christine Grosart 08/12/2023 Christine Grosart 08/12/2023

Just a little afternoon trip...

What utter Bo****ks!!

There was a lot of lounging about on the campsite going on...people under the illusion that they were on holiday and so forth...so I suggested a 'little afternoon trip' - only 2 hours underground, only half an hours drive away.

So we packed our wetsuits and headed off to a lovely little cave called the 'Foux de Lauret'.

Three hours later we managed to find the correct parking spot as my memory from my last and only trip in the cave in 2007 had faded completely!

Once found, we walked up the path, only to take the wrong left turning which started to feel 'wrong' somehow and after a lot of sweating and bush bashing - in wetsuits - we returned to go a bit further and find the correct path and the chain which led to the small cave entrance, perched precariously on the edge of a cliff with a fairly terminal drop below. The only protection was a small tree which had seen better days....

*Elaine in the lakes - by Chris Grosart*

The entrance crawl goes on far too long and is almost unbearable in wetsuits - but we soon met with the first of the lakes and cooled off and I took the opportunity to take a photo I had wanted for some time.

A while later and we finally found the correct turning to the large main passage and river with large gours - but failed to find the beautiful crystal gours I had seen last time. Obviously turning 30 has some effect on my otherwise good memory :-(

It was a fun trip and we took just an hour to the exit where we were met with a humid, thundery evening.

Desperate for food, we hunted down beer and pizza and turned in for the night.

Christine Grosart 08/12/2023 Christine Grosart 08/12/2023

"...a nice easy flop in a resurgence..." by Richard Walker

Yesterday we went on a nice easy resurgence flop. The cave entrance is no more than 100m from the road. How hard could it be?

Trouble is, that 100m is about 20m horizontal, and 97m vertical. The cave was Gourneyras, in the Viz gorge. 20 minutes down a dirt track next to some breathtaking drop-offs where your front wheels are spitting stones off the side into oblivion, you come to a tree. Actually hundreds of trees. One of them marks the path down to the cave.

You just have to know which tree. And we sort of did, and sort of didn't. The giveaway was the steel cable-run that had been set up to transport gear down to the pool. But we were too clever to look for that. An hour later we gave up the hunting and went down the right path for a quick look. The cave was right there where we left it in 2012.

*Christine decompresses in the Gourneyras*

There was only 2 of us, so we had travelled light. One twinset, one rebreather, 4 stages, drysuits, undersuits and some other bags of stuff. Christine went down the track and started setting up the hand-lines that we use to stop ourselves plummeting into the oblivion. This track has just about every type of terrain you can imagine.

It starts with a steep gravel path, with some 2ft high rock steps to negotiate. Then it changes direction and traverses across the hill on a scree slope, which slips and slides under your feet. Then it goes into a gentle forest path, and you think that it isn't so bad. It's of course lulling you into a false sense of security. Next is a combination of steep mud path, brambles, eye level branches, ankle level knotweed, and some unstable pebbles. Then you break out into the sunshine again at the level of the river, and feel happy that your 100m decent is over and it must now get easier.

Now the fear starts. There is a field of unstable, slippery, weed covered boulders, just right to break an ankle. You slither and slide over these and finally arrive at the pool. Which is truly delightful. It's sparkly blue, the sunshine lights it up and the entrance to the cave beckons they eye from a depth of 6m.

We chained the gear down the hill, 10m steps at a time, which was significantly easier we thought, than running up and down the hill 8 times. We got all the gear down to the pool in about 90 minutes, and were pleased with ourselves.

Gear assembled, camera checked and we were off. The 32C air temperature was oppressive, and it was great to get into the 13C water. We hung about on the surface for a few minutes just to relax and get that hot-and-bothered feeling gone, and then began our dive. The entrance is obvious at a depth of about 6m, and we dropped our decompression cylinders at 6m, and swam into the cave. It starts with a 45 degree, stepped drop into the cave. Lots of boulders and rocks are all around, and you soon come to the 21m dropoff, convenient for leaving the second decompression cylinders.

Now the cave gets interesting. There's a large circular room as you descend, almost impossible to see from one side to the other. The walls are white, but the place sucks up light. If you look back now, from a depth of about 40m, you see the blue entrance above you. More about that later. Now, you arrive on a pebble floor, and the passage turns sharply to the left, under a huge overhang.

You're now at about 50m depth, and in a passage like a railway tunnel. Bigger actually. It's probably 30m wide and 20m high. There are beautiful scalloped formations of the floor, sharp knives of rock 10m across on the floor, and air-clear visibility. Again, it's hard to see across the tunnel, and I had travel all over the cave tunnel to see it, and still didn't see it all! After about 10-15 minutes, it was time to turn, and I turned on the camera, lit the lights and started to shoot some stills. Light was getting sucked up and to get any sort of perspective was difficult. The thought of some new 4000 Lumen lights has started to hit my radar. Hope the bank manager isn't reading this...

I shot some half decent pictures of Christine, and by 30 minutes we were back at the corner to start heading back up the slope. Here is where you get your first real view of the entrance. 50m deep, looking uphill to a turquoise blue window into the fresh air. You can see the green trees around the pool, it's an amazing sight.

We worked our way up the slope, taking pictures, swapping cameras, managing the decompression for the next hour - way more time than we need, but it's a beautiful place, we had the gas, a camera and no pressing engagements that evening. After a 90 minute dive, we surfaced to some French ramblers, who informed us that they also dived there, and had we seen the view from 30m of the surface pool. They didn't offer to help us carry our gear back though, for some reason.

We got out of our gear, relaxed for half an hour and started the long haul back to the road. Only 100m away, most of it vertical, back through the ankle breakers, up the forest mud path, across the scree slope and up the stone steps. PFO test formally passed.

As the light faded, we realised we needed to make tracks if we wanted to eat that night. We headed to Laroque as they have a row of tourist trap restaurants. Takeaway pizza. But it was past 9pm when we got there. "Fini" came the reply from the chef.

No discussion. We had spied a caravan that had "pizza" written on the side, a mile back down the road, so we headed back there, and to our delight, he cooked us 3, Yes 3, pizzas in about 20 minutes flat. Joy of Joy, he also sold us 2 Pelforth Blondes.

Life is good on a day like that!

Christine Grosart 08/12/2023 Christine Grosart 08/12/2023

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.

Christine Grosart 08/12/2023 Christine Grosart 08/12/2023

Fast Moving Treacle with Foam On't Top

It's been a long time since I was caving in Yorkshire - and even longer since I had been cave diving up there.

With a never ending motorway covered in cones pretty much between Bristol and Settle, you don't get much change out of a 6 hour drive to the Dales, so it really needs to be worth it.

The UK had enjoyed glorious weather all summer and were basking in a heatwave right up until the moment I stepped off the plane from work.

I packed my van full of caving and cave diving gear. A whole bunch of sidemount cylinders, ropes and camera gear went in - all the while as the biblical storm hit the UK and took out a few stone bridges up North for good measure.

My Cave Diving Group trainee Mark Burkey scrabbled around looking for vertical caves that wouldn't flood and where pitches weren't too big and scary for Rich Walker, who hates SRT (Single Rope Technique) with a genuine passion.

The Cave Diving Group has a unique and rather accurate visibility scale for Yorkshire caves, which changes according to rainfall or lack thereof.

Water watchers scattered around the Dales report weekly, sometimes daily, to report back online how conditions are faring.

The CDG has a visibility scale which is remarkably accurate. A bunch of local weather watchers update it regularly with rainfall data and river levels.

Cave Diving Group Visibility Scale

Poteen

White Wine

Lager

Pedigree (acceptable)

Brown Ale

Guinness (Dark, with foam on top)

It's a bit like branch watchers, when you're trying to work out if the dive boat will go out or not...

I looked at my camera gear in desperation.

What we salvaged from what was, basically, a monsoon was incredible in hindsight.

We went down Lost Johns, Cathedral route and abseiled some lovely pitches. I took my camera box which was like dragging a small unruly child with me for the entire trip.

Mark cheerfully rigged, waggy-tailed that he didn't have the camera box for once and sniggering each time it jammed in the cave passage and I growled at it.

Rich was left to hang on the rope while I perched precariously on a ledge and tried not to drop my expensive camera kit down the 30 metre pitch.

Cathedral pitch, Lost John’s Cave, Yorkshire, UK. Image: Christine Grosart

One's photography doesn't half improve when you are given advice and assistance by one of the best in the business. Self taught, Mark Burkey has a mantlepiece full of awards for his cave photography and a club full of novice cavers who all enjoy having their photos taken, for practise.

Mark was holding the flashguns at the bottom and was looking at them when I accidentally hit the shutter and they went off, momentarily blinding him.

Swearing came up the pitch, which was met with a "Woo Hooooo!!!" from me as my 'accident' had actually come out really well! This looked promising.

I don't know how long I made Rich hang there and one flash gun revolted - not good enough batteries in the flash guns, apparently.

But I was super chuffed with the results. After years of struggling with pitch shots I finally, thanks to tuition from the expert, had something publishable.

We had a smashing few days, catching up briefly with Steph and Mike from Yorkshire Dales Guides who have a wonderful set up not far from the Helwith Bridge close to where we were staying.

What I love about the caving instructor business is that everyone are friends and we all support one another. It's great to see another lady cave leader going places and creating an amazing facility to get the next generation into such a fantastic sport. They cater for all ages, abilities and disabilities.

We also caught up with Jane Allen and her husband Tim. Jane is a force for change in British caving and my goodness did we need it.

Hugely driven, she owns the UK Caving Forum and set up 'New to Caving' which is a one stop shop of how to take those first steps underground.

Clean, up to date and easy to navigate, the website is a fantastic and badly needed resource.

I was thrilled to see one of my WetWellies Caving images up on the wall in the caving cafe of choice, Inglesport. Jane had organised a photo competition and the top three were displayed in the cafe.

Even better, we came across the 'New to Caving' flyers which also had my image on them - of Veronika, who had been bought a WetWellies Caving experience by one of her relatives. What an amazing story to take with her back home to Canada.

Finally, we managed a curry in Settle with our good friend Dave Ryall. A 'proper' cave diver, Dave has been a good friend over the years and I missed his company and cheeky humour a lot. I was disappointed that his wife, Sue - mad as a bat - wasn't able to make it but my liver was grateful...

The visibility in the Dales that week was, according to Dave, like 'fast moving treacle'. That was one up on Guinness!

There was only one site that was even remotely diveable. Best done in wet weather apparently, as a solution cave the visibility didn't succumb to the peat tannins that other caves in the Dales did.

Except it wasn't in the Dales. It was in Cumbria and over an hour drive away. Oh well.

*Christine and Mark at the entrance to Pate Hole*

Mark and I kitted up in semi dry suits and put on our 7 litre sidemount cylinders and set off inside Pate Hole.

I don't mind crawling so much, I don't mind carrying cylinders so much - but Pate Hole was a royal pain in the a**!

The large cobbles were rounded so your knee just slides off and cracks another rock - every step of the way.

It's hot, sweaty going and your bottles need to be rigged right to avoid smashing your teeth out - something I perfected many years ago.

After god knows how long crawling, we finally got to a canal. It looked like it was about to sump. We had crawled 100 metres fully kitted in high water. In normal conditions this was 300 metres...

I'm too old now for this sh*t....

Relieved to be in the water, we set off into a cave neither of us had dived but were super excited about it.

Paralenz (no video lights) footage of Pate Hole, Cumbria.

The visibility was excellent and Mark and I enjoyed swimming the low bedding plane that was normally crawled.

Then the cave changed and we met a deep rift where the cave briefly surfaced and then plummeted down to 30 metres. It was seriously impressive and we were very keen to come back with bigger bottles another time. Ideally when the cave is resurging!

I love introducing people to caving for the first time.

Ryan McShane was keen to join our cave diving project so we needed to get him underground and moving through caves.

He had done a little cave diving and was a decent climber so not surprisingly he made light work of County Pot to Wretched Rabbit, or, 'Wretched Rabbit the wrong way round'.

I was glad Mark brought the ladder as my levitating days are long gone but it was a fun trip and reminded me of how fit I was in my youth!

We headed in almost convoy down to Sheffield where we had a few things planned at a nice little mine in Bakewell.

*Holme Bank Chert Mine. Image: Christine Grosart*

The first job was to get to grips with some dry survey practise with the ever helpful Jim Lister. I was super rusty and Rich had not done it before, so we spent two days sorting out the Disto-X and trying to learn a non iphone!

I also wanted to get to grips with cave diving photography and the crystal clear visibility in the shallow mine was the perfect place to practise. It was 8 degrees though so whilst I was cosy on my KISS rebreather, Rich was a little grumpy in the images - something that didn't go unnoticed by the British Society of Underwater Photographers judges!

*Stunning Ribblehead viaduct and Whernside*

Christine Grosart 06/12/2023 Christine Grosart 06/12/2023

Magical Mexico

I have been cave diving since the age of 23.

I have reinvented my career twice to be able to afford it and landed my dream job as an offshore dive medic in 2017.

It was a tonne of studying, expense, hard work and commitment. I don't have rich parents - in fact, now I only have one. It is fair to say I had definitely earned this - my dream holiday - cave diving in the Yucatan, Mexico.

I had seen the incredible photos, watched the jaw dropping videography from masters such as JP Bresser and heard about magnificent haloclines and blue, salt water passages.

*Christine in Regina. Image: Marissa Eckert*

Most of my cave diving has been in poor visibility, cold water and with a sincere degree of effort.

The exploration I have undertaken has been at the end of the lines of serious cave divers and let's face it, if virgin cave was easy to come by, divers would be doing it in spades.

But they are not. Europe is particularly challenging, with a pool of talented and hard core explorers. I feel fortunate and proud that I have the end of the exploration line in no less than 4 caves in Europe.

So, after 16 years, you have to ask why I hadn't been to Mexico...

Well, it's a little complicated.

In my formative cave diving years I was told by a lady cave diver that if I went to Mexico, I wouldn't want to dive anywhere else ever again.

This was somewhat disconcerting, as I enjoyed cold water diving and the challenges true exploration presents.

I made a decision then that as Mexico cave diving was so warm and easy and pretty...I'd leave it for my retirement days.

Things move on. I'd made a good career and had the cash to spare for the first time in my life to make the trip. Let's face it, with my career as a Paramedic, I'm in no doubt that life is fickle and short. You never know what is around the next corner and it is arrogant to just 'assume' you will make retirement.

I spoke to my friend Clare who recommended a very smart 5* all inclusive hotel and we got lucky in that our best dive buddy Osama Gobara, who works at Zero Gravity, was free for our chosen dates. The trip was on.

I decided to take my partner, Richard Walker, with me. Rude not to I suppose!

He had only dived one cave in Mexico during a GUE conference and said it was the most jaw dropping cave he'd ever dived. It was called Taj Maha(l) and it was to be our shake down dive.

We settled in at our gorgeous hotel and had an outstanding breakfast with coffee topped up by our waiter before our mugs were empty.

The hotel was in fact a series of giant lobbies with bats circling in the thatch roof, gorging on mosquitoes, and linked up by paths leading to 'blocks' of villas with large hotel rooms on two levels.

Large chunks of jungle intermingled with beautifully manicured gardens and all sorts of creatures lived in the bushes.

In the evenings Coaties - a sort of racoon - came out to visit whoever was feeding them. They also joined us for a morning jog on a few occasions.

Once the sun comes up, the iguanas come out. They are totally tame, are quite used to having their photos taken and are known to occasionally move in on your sun lounger!

The villa blocks were decked in marble, each had their own butler and the rooms had jacuzzi tub, rainfall shower and good aircon. Oh, and a free minibar! Topped up daily...

The food was outstanding and we went to as many a la carte restaurants as we could which was an excuse to posh up for the evening.

We grabbed our hire jeep and headed to Zero Gravity - possibly the best dive centre in the world.

The shop is full of shiny things - mostly with blue Halcyon logos - and literally hundreds of dive cylinders.

The staff work very hard and everything here has been thought through down to the smallest detail.

It isn't possible for Rich and I to go on a diving trip to a GUE facility incognito. Within seconds we were accosted by all sorts of lovely people and greeted like long lost friends by all nationalities.

I was super thrilled to FINALLY be on the same soil as Chantelle Blanchard, a Canadian cave diver. Despite having diving in common, nobody could get any sense out of either of us as we both had a previous life in horse racing and yapped non-stop until it was finally time to go diving.

Getting into warm water (25 degrees) with no gloves on is weird. The heat made everything sweaty and the warm water was only mild relief.

It was a luxuriously short walk to the water which was perfectly clear and aqua in colour.

I don't think I've ever seen formations underwater. Well, maybe a few in a cave in Croatia but nothing like this.

The haloclines were weird, giving you blurry vision especially if you're at the back!

Osama promised he'd take us somewhere better tomorrow (!)

Over the next two weeks we dived 10 different sites, sometimes with one stage, sometimes two. Sometimes with scooters, sometimes not. Sometimes with cameras, sometimes without.

*My attempt at underwater cave photography - it’s harder than you think!*

It is super easy cave diving - undoubtably the easiest I've ever done and the dives were usually between 2 and 3 hours long with no decompression and never getting cold.

It was a true underwater fairyland. But the lady cave diver was wrong.

Cave diving in the Yucatan is different for sure, but after a while the dives all blurred into one and I started to enjoy the slightly more awkward entrances and complex navigation more than the galloping tunnels.

I dare to say it, but I might have started to get a little bored had I not had the camera to operate.

It definitely wouldn't stop me diving anywhere else. It's just a nice place to go on holiday once in a while.

One of my main reasons to go to Mexico was that the visibility is so clear you can sometimes forget you are underwater.

It is a photographer's paradise and, not to do things by halves, I decided to embark on underwater cave photography. Possibly the hardest form of photography there is. Certainly one of the most expensive.

I've dabbled a bit with underwater photography in caves and cheated with video lights.

Now I had my own DSLR set up and housing and a bunch of revolting strobes to frustrate the hell out of my buddies with.

My grand plan is to go around the UK photographing sumps, but practising in warm, shallow, clear water was a good choice.

It was deeply frustrating and time consuming, but that's why we practised here - 24 degree, shallow water with infinite visibility.

Think it's easy?

Go ahead and try it!

Around 70% of the cenotes in the Yucatan are supposedly unexplored.

It made me wonder what everyone else had been doing all this time!

It turns out only a handful of divers are minded to explore something new and everyone else - like us - has more than a lifetime's worth of tourist diving to be getting on with.

We were determined to have a holiday and I made Oz promise to stop me if I tried to do anything remotely challenging. But I'm pretty certain if I went back I'd be very interested in looking at undived sites. And gallons and gallons of mosquito spray!

Talking of mosquitoes (well, more wasps really) I was really fortunate that Marissa Eckert was in town for a prolonged stay with her partner and dive buddy James Draker.

Marissa has no fear of heading deep into the jungle and getting eaten and stung by pretty much anything in order to head to lesser known sites.

Marissa is a serious cave photographer and armed with my new camera housing and no clue, I was so chuffed that she hooked up for a dive with us and to show me a few pointers.

I also got to borrow her well-trained boyfriend who dutifully ran all over the cave placing strobes for photos. It was almost like he'd done this before!

We had a cracking dive in a rattly little cave called Regina, which dropped down into a superb electric blue saltwater canyon.

*Chris and Rich in Regina. Image: Marissa Eckert*

Marissa took some stunning images of us all, making it look so effortless.

On our way out it was my turn and I made a complete dogs dinner of taking my photos which were barely publishable.

So much to learn!

We wrapped up at a proper Mexican restaurant with cocktails and Mexican beers amidst a raging storm - it seems we had reached the opportune time to head home.

A huge thank you to Osama Gobara, Emir Memic, Christophe le Maillot, Marissa Eckert, James Draker, Clare Pooley, Fourth Element, Ursuit and all the staff at Zero Gravity and the Grand Bahia Principe Akumal.

Christine Grosart 06/12/2023 Christine Grosart 06/12/2023

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.

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.

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.

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 :-(

Christine Grosart 06/12/2023 Christine Grosart 06/12/2023

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 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!

Christine Grosart 05/12/2023 Christine Grosart 05/12/2023

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.

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.

Women Fitness - Christine Grosart

Christine Grosart 05/12/2023 Christine Grosart 05/12/2023

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.

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.

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.

Christine Grosart 04/12/2023 Christine Grosart 04/12/2023

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.

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.

Christine Grosart 04/12/2023 Christine Grosart 04/12/2023

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.

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.

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!

Christine Grosart 04/12/2023 Christine Grosart 04/12/2023

Cave Diving Group Anniversary

We had a great time in Wales recently at the Old Rectory in Llangattock for the 71st anniversary of the Cave Diving Group of Great Britain.

We spent the Friday afternoon diving in a cave called Porth yr Ogof in the Brecon Beacons, to take some visibility measurements and collect some data for our conservation project, Project Baseline South Wales Caves.

On the Sunday, Rich and I joined award winning cave photographer Mark Burkey and his wife Jess for a casual trip into a cave called Ogof Ffynnon Ddu. We played with video shots for an upcoming project and Mark showed me some tips and tricks to get more out of my camera underground – we think you’ll agree the results were stunning!

Christine Grosart 04/12/2023 Christine Grosart 04/12/2023

The secret cave

Before I go into details of our dive here, I should stress that this cave is not for public access and is indeed the water source for the town of Millau. Permission is required to dive here and we obtained this through a friend and a French cave diver before visiting the cave. Illegal dives here are quite likely to spoil ongoing attempts to reach an agreeable solution about diving the source, hence I have withheld its whereabouts.

The plan was to video the cave and as a result, will offer any footage we have to the local speleo activists to use in their quest to demonstrate how important divers are in the protection of caves and scientific hydrological research. At the end of the day, we are the only ones who can actually see what goes on under the water, under the rock, in the dark.

We drove almost 2 hours on nothing but winding roads and stunning gorges until we reached the village and after a little inventive French speaking and some friendly locals, located the source. We parked up but our French guide, Mehdi, was not there. Worried, I made a few calls back home to some friends who knew him but there were no such worries, as he showed up minutes later, having been diving in the Font d’Estremar all day!

We began carrying kit to the cave and we spoke to Mehdi in our best going out French and he spoke to us in pretty good English. He was to dive with us and both Rich and Joe had video cameras.

Joe's trailer, including the secret cave.

Due to gas logistics (there are no filling stations down here, so all trimix was pre-filled, as were deco gases – the rest is to be topped off by the compressor, courtesy of the Derbyshire Section CDG) Rich and I dived sidemounted as these were the only ‘backgas’ cylinders we had left which could be used, the rest still full of 15/55 for next week.

So we dived on 60m gas to reach pretty much the terminus of this cave, which ends in a jumbled, jagged breakdown choke at -65m.

The journey there however, was spectacular. Clive Westlake, my ex-CDG mentor was the last person to dive here 4 years ago and prior to that, the last diver had been in the cave no less than 8 years ago. And it showed.

Our exhalation bubbles sent bits of conglomerate and chert raining down on us and wafting past the video cameras. Anything you touched simply broke off in your hand so we dived it with kid gloves. The entrance is a narrow rift and we dropped off our deco bottles as we followed the winding, ‘diaclase’ (maze) to the head of a shaft.

I’ve seen some impressive underwater shafts, some pretty famous, but this was one of the more pretty and intricate ones. Mehdi dived a Megdalon ‘recycleur’ and stealthily crept along behind us, grinning in awe at the view he was presented with, descending above Rich with his double 18W filming lights, above me with my HID… he said it was pretty amazing! The visibility was infinite and sparkling blue.

I saw the line snaking off towards the breakdown terminus and thumbed the dive at 59.9m. We had a nice ascent and Mehdi began chatting to me through his RB and I felt obliged to waffle some crap in French back!!

We picked up our deco gases and Rich filmed Mehdi down some side passage while I wrestled with getting an ali stage clipped off to sidemount 12s, all the while feeling a bit underweighted; I soon realised that this was due to a sticking wing inflator valve which was filling my ‘Scoff-Bag’ at a rate of knots. Giggling at my stupidity for not noticing it sooner, I told Mehdi I was fine and that I would deal with the simultaneously freeflowing regulator later……

Such annoyances don’t spoil a great dive like this though and we surfaced at dusk, waffling in barely coherent Franglais at how good it was and how worth the drive etc etc.

I asked Mehdi if he would please join us for dinner, or a beer at least. One step ahead, he produced a bottle of delicately balanced local white wine which had been cooling in the resurgence all the while!!

We waited for the others to surface and giggled uncontrollably as they had stuck true to form, getting totally lost and taking the wrong line and ending up in some shit-hole about 0.5m high and full of mud, unable to turn around etc. They did make it to the deep in the end but they won’t live it down as it’s not the first time either!

The stars started to come up over the gorge and the white limestone cliffs were lit by the moon and we tore down the gorge after Mehdi who showed us to a very welcome pizza restaurant and made sure we were looked after.

An absolutely awesome dive, great company and a superb evening. Days don’t get much better than this. Thankyou guys.

Christine Grosart 04/12/2023 Christine Grosart 04/12/2023

The Dark Room

I won my first cave photography award when I was barely 21 years old.

The image was nothing short of a masterpiece.

Using a canon 35mm film camera which claimed to be waterproof, I diligently choreographed my Uncle Phil Hendy and my friend Phil Short in all sorts of poses around a cave called Shatter, in Somerset.

Shatter is beautifully decorated and we took a lot of time and effort to make the photos work. Several hours, in fact.

Towards the end of the trip I lay down in a muddy puddle and shot the 27th image on my 24 exposure kodak film... (people under 25, I may have lost you at this stage...)

Worried, I asked everyone to turn their lights off while I fumbled in the dark to rectify the issue.

The issue was not to be rectified.

The camera was empty.

On a positive note, it was the most realistic image anyone had ever shot of a cave.

After all - they are completely dark!

*The image of Shatter cave I took some time later…..*

*Recognition at Hidden Earth National Caving Conference*

Thus, I was quite surprised and very excited to be asked to give a talk on cave photography at Warminster Camera Club in January.

I was slightly apprehensive as, whilst I do take photos underground and pride myself in the images I take for WetWellies Caving clients, I’m still loathe to call myself a ‘cave photographer’.

Fortunately and with some help from my talented friends, my photography improved a lot and I started to win prizes for it. I learned a lot from Clive Westlake and Mark Burkey, both with very different styles but I often feel like I’m yet to develop my own (no pun intended!)

My good friend and super nice guy, Paul Duckworth, persuaded me along.

I wasn’t sure how to go about this talk, so I decided to make fun of myself and it wasn’t long before I had the audience giggling up their sleeves and I think I enjoyed the talk as much as they did!

It is something I would definitely love to do again.

Here's what they said: The Dark Room - Christine Grosart

Three of the best - by Christine Grosart

*"The China Shop" Boreham Cave, UK, 2012. Cave Diver: Dave Ryall. Image: Christine Grosart*

*"Cathedral Pitch" Lost Johns, UK. Image: Christine Grosart*

*Veronika from Canada on her first ever caving trip with WetWelies! Image: Christine Grosart, Owner WetWellies Caving*

Christine Grosart 04/12/2023 Christine Grosart 04/12/2023

Wet Wookey

Christine aged 25 ish in Wookey chamber 20. Image: Clive Westlake. Image taken before a tunnel was mined through to allow public access to the chamber. At this time, the only way to see it was by cave diving.

Wookey Hole Caves will always have a very special place in my heart.

It is a weird, slightly crazy, slightly spooky tourist attraction in the middle of deepest Somerset. Many of my WetWellies caving clients have visited the 'other end' of the Wookey system, Swildons Hole, which has been dye traced to connect with Wookey Hole. When dye was tipped into the water in Swildons Hole it emerged TWENTY FOUR hours later at Wookey resurgence.

It has been the dream of every British cave diver I know to connect the two but alas, the connection has only ever been made by that dye.

Mark Burkey in Wookey Hole, right below the public gallery. Image: Christine Grosart

Swildons Hole ends at sump 12, a tight underwater passage which gets too small for humans and is a long slog to get to in any case. I've been to sump 12 twice and would take a lot or persuading to go back again...

Wookey Hole, at the bottom of the hill heading towards the city of Wells, is an impressive resurgence cave where a huge collection of water which has drained through the Mendip hills, comes rushing out of the cave mouth.

Divers conducted the very first hard hat dives in this cave in 1935 and Graham Balcombe and Penelope 'Mossy' Powell ventured upstream in Wookey Hole for the first time. It was from this underground chamber, chamber 3, now visited by tourists every day, that I made my first cave dive in Wookey Hole in 2005.

Penelope ‘Mossy’ Powell and Graham Balcombe in the 1930s, Wookey Hole Chamber 3. Image: Mendip archives.

Preparing to dive in Wookey Hole in the 1930s.

Modern day diving in Wookey Hole. Christine diving sidemount, open circuit. Image: Richard Walker.

On 17th February this year (2019) I took my Cave Diving Group trainee Mark Burkey on his first cave dive in Wookey Hole.

We were blessed with superb visibility so he could begin to get to know the place and he had the luxury of being filmed (for training feedback, of course) which meant bright video lights illuminating the large underwater passages.

*Mark diving towards the 'slot' in Wookey Hole. Image: Christine Grosart*

Mark is an outstanding cave photographer and I am very excited about the prospect of him being able to take photographs beyond sumps, as my mentor Clive Westlake once did, albeit mainly in black and white.

In 2009, Wookey Hole was the scene for my rather understated deep dive at the end of the system. Rick Stanton and John Volanthen of Thai Cave rescue Fame, had pushed the end of the cave signifiicantly in 2005 to 90 metres deep.

*Christine preparing to dive the final 2 sumps in Wookey Hole, 2009 before her record breaking dive.*

I had only just begin cave diving with the Cave Diving Group so whilst I was around to witness the aftermath of the record breaking dives, my only small part in the affair was to pick up the parachute after the run. Or rather, I was a ‘sump donkey’ bringing partially depleted exploration bailout bottles back to the show cave.

*The river Axe roars through Wookey chamber 24. Image: Christine Grosart*

Roll on four years and I was heading down to the new bits of the cave myself and earned a new ladies UK cave diving depth record (64 metres, solo) in the process. To this day no woman has ever been back. Now that chamber 24 (dive base for the deeper dives into the system) has had a dry route created, I wonder if any future record would count as much. I certainly did it the hard way over several days and with the help of several resolute and valued friends.

*Wookey chamber 20, when it was only accessed by diving. Image: Christine Grosart*

Christine Grosart 30/11/2023 Christine Grosart 30/11/2023

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.

Christine Grosart 08/11/2023 Christine Grosart 08/11/2023

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.

Christine Grosart 08/11/2023 Christine Grosart 08/11/2023

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.

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.

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.

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.

The camera was empty.

Three of the best - by Christine Grosart

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