Coudouliere
Jean Tarrit by the entrance of Coudouliere.
The Dutch were eager to head over to Coudouliere and make a few parts of the entrance boulder choke more Suex friendly.
This seemed like a good opportunity for me to deploy my Disto X and PDA combination and get some survey data of the dry passage leading to the sumps.
Over the last 6 months or so I’ve been trying to build up a paperless system and with help from various people, I now have a working upgraded Disto X which measures distance, compass and clinometer readings.
This talks to a basic PDA via Bluetooth and stores the data in a neat free program called Pocket Topo. This also enables the user to sketch and draw cross sections as they go.
Even better, the data can be transferred via another neat program called Top Parser (Andrew Atkinson’s genius) to Therion survey program. Therion makes my head hurt and we were fortunate to have Jan Mulder (NL) along who was far more confident with it than me.
Gour pools in Coudouliere. Photo Rick van Dijk
One advantage of Therion of other programs is the ability to tie in additional data without having to re-draw – it simply adjusts the drawing as you go.
But even so, it is not easy to learn and earlier this year I organised a weekend of all things Disto and Therion. It was oversubscribed so I should think we’ll be doing another one over the winter.
I had left my tippex in the car, which I was going to use to mark the survey stations. But we were saved by Pedro Ballordi’s pink nail varnish which Anton took a shine to…
Ash in Coudouliere
We surveyed the boulder choke down to a junction and took the right hand branch, which led to a different sump, via a steep slope which needed a rope. Pedro set about putting some bolts in and rigged up a rope. The rock was similar to the Perdreau, with poor rock for bolts and we ended up tying into a huge boulder instead.
With this part of the survey done, we headed out and were met by a scooter making it’s way up through the boulders. Now that scooters fitted, the next trip would be less problematic.
We retired to the pub in St Jean de Bueges for cold pressions all round.
Gours in Coudouliere. Image: Rick Van Dijk
To the end of Garrel - by Rich Walker
The Garrel was first mentioned to us by Jean Tarrit back in 2011.
He told us of a sump that was at the end of a cave that the CLPA had been exploring for over 30 years. It’s a big, complex cave system and continues to lend new dry passageway even today.
However, what lay beyond the sump was a mystery to them, and could be the start of another significant area of the cave so he was keen for us to dive it. In 2012, Christine and Tim dived and laid 40m of line, finishing as the visibility was deteriorating. The sump had gone to a depth of 10m, and was heading up towards the surface at a depth of 4.5m at the end, so there was a good chance it would surface.
Garrel - team of 2012
We returned this year with thoughts of surfacing into new cave passageway, and were very excited to going back. It doesn’t seem too bad a dive, to be honest. 90m of distance, and 10m depth. How hard could it be?
Well, the cave diving is the easy bit. You see the sump is 6 hours caving from the entrance. It isn’t particularly difficult caving, lots of short vertical climbs and descents, and a particularly big and confusing boulder choke in the middle of the trip. All of this needs to be done of course with the diving gear.
Jean brings friends with him. They are never the same people, for some reason, so I can only assume he has a large pool of friends to draw from.
One of the climbs in Garrel. Best done with SRT gear!
We set off early that morning, and no less than 8 cavers showed up to help us. Jean was so excited, that he left all of his equipment at home and had to go back to get it. He caught us up a couple of hours into the trip. These helpers were young, fit and keen. At the start anyway!
I’ve been trying to find the report of the last trip here, but I can’t. I suspect that, in the way that you forget pain, the interwebs has decided that the report is too painful to be told. It just means I’ll have to recount the story here for you.
We climbed into the cave down a sloping, low bedding plane just steep enough for you to not have to work very hard. This is great on the way in, but I’m always mindful of how I might extract myself from such places. I slid down to the bottom, thinking about levitation techniques. From there on, it’s a mixture of short rope pitches. We used SRT equipment this time. In 2012 we neglected to bring any because it was a “short, easy trip”.
Christine in the Garrel, passing a squeeze apparently similar to the one she would encounter underwater.
After about an hour, or so, the large passageway stops at the base of a huge boulder choke. There are multiple ways into it. We’d become spread out over the cave due to the vertical pitches, and I found myself with a young french guy who spoke about as much English as I spoke French.
You can make what you will of that, but essentially, unless we wanted to ask each other our respective names for the next few hours, and discussing whether there is a monkey in the tree or not. Anyway, I digress.
My new friend decided that the way on was up and to the left. Well, it was his cave so I followed him.I climbed up a squeezey little hole, and then to a vertical rope pitch.
There was nobody there, and I figured that if this was the way on, then we would have caught up the other team at this point. I tried to explain that we needed to go back to the bottom of the boulders and wait. OK, he said. I went down, and he went up. Le singe est sur l’arbre.
I got found by another of the party and tried to explain. I think we made some progress, and we shouted at friend 1 to come back, which he duly did. This whole escapade took us a good 45 minutes, and we headed on through the boulder choke and caught up again.
More big rooms, vertical climbs and descents, a very precarious totter across a knife-edge of rock like something from Lord of the Rings, 6 hours and a spot of lunch later, we arrived at the sump.
Chris kits up at the sump
This was a beautiful sight. It had a gorgeous green hue to it, and we could see the line heading off into the depths. That was until I fell in kitting up. Brown soup from all of the fine silt was now covering the entrance. I just hoped it wouldn’t drift into the main cave. We were planning to survey this sump, so visibility was needed in order to do a decent job.
After some precarious balancing while gearing up, Christine and I set off into the sump. Chris went first, patching the line and looking around for the way on. I followed behind making the survey.
Pretty little cave, although I didn’t get to see too much of it, focussed as I was on my compass and wet-notes. The passage went roughly North West, and I surveyed the length of the line, and having a quick discussion with Chris at the end to the effect of “it’s all boulder choked from here on” and that was sadly the end of the dive. 20 mins in, 20 out and we were back at the pool again. We had the survey, but no new cave unfortunately. This was a great shame, but to put it in perspective, we don’t have to carry 2 sets of diving gear 6 hours into the cave again. Hopefully the survey will point to a way on on the dry side of the cave. That’s where the CLPA come into their own, and they will make good use of the data, I’m sure.
The reverse trip back to daylight (ok, it was 9pm and dark when we got out) was hard going. Bags seem to get heavier, the cave gets smaller, and the climbs more exposed. I guess it’s just the effects of concentrating for 12-13 hours. The levitation on the final slope back to fresh air worked as well as you’d expect, and I slithered my way back up, just like the “worm” dance move. But only with 20 inches of vertical space.
Typical varied caving in the Garrel. Images: CLPA
It was an exhausting trip and we all suffered for it for the next 24 hours. We got beer, as always, in the local bar. Fortunately they have an outside terrace as we definitely wouldn’t have been allowed indoors.
Our trip formally closed the next evening when we invited all of the team around to the campsite for a BBQ. Spare ribs, sausages, salad, beer, wine, vegetables, lamb chops and moules too was a lovely finish to the week.
Thanks to Jean Tarrit for taking the photos!
Trashed gear after Garrel
Rodel
Andras Kuti in the Rodel. Image: Christine Grosart
There seems to be a bit of a fad about sidemount at the moment. I'm not sure why, as most 'gurus' have rarely dived caves such as the Rodel, where sidemount is absolutely necessary.
It is not just necessary for the awkward carry (walk up a riverbed for 100 metres or so and then crawl on your belly for another 70 metres or so and then crawl/stoop the rest of the way) but underwater too.
It is actually one of the easiest to access sites in the Herault, but if you don't like Trou Madame at low water, forget this one.
I love the place.
Rich in the Rodel. Image: Christine Grosart
It is easiest to chain gear to make rapid progress to the sump and knee pads are essential.
The visibility is normally very good but a second thunder storm ruined it for this trip.
It was a milky 4 metres or so, but a good experience for Ash and Rick who hadn't dived it before.
Better conditions in 2012
I took the opportunity to try some photos and more video but the visibility was nowhere near as good as 2012.
But it was fun in any case...
Rick Van Dijk in Rodel cobble squeeze (advisable to dig it open first and keep away from the line which goes through the smallest part...)
Rich in the cobble squeeze. Image: Christine Grosart
Christine enjoying the Rodel
Aven de Rocas
It was somewhat unfortunate that he had left his ‘pains au chocolate’ in our daren drum!
Chris concentrating at the pitch head
In 2012, the CLPA discovered several holes in a rough field, very close to Jean’s house in Le Besses.
For a few years I had joked that he had a cave in his garden.
The digging efforts of ‘Academie de Rocas’ had discovered several pitches, some with waterfalls and two of impressive dimensions.
The front cover of the most recent journal of the CLPA was adorned with the biggest pitch.
Phillipe Vernant kindly offered to take us down Rocas and show us around. As part of the digging team, he knew the place extremely well.
Rick Van Dijk was up for his 3rd SRT trip here and Ashley and Rich stayed on the surface to sort out the radio location equipment, trying to get an accurate fix on a known chamber with a known survey.
Graham Naylor had built us a Nicola 3 prototype and two aerials to try to radio locate the large chamber at the end of the big sump in Coudouliere.
Jean Tarrit
Now that the trip was off, we went to get a bit more practice and get a few more people trained in its use.
The entrance was a typical, muddy dig, with red slime everywhere. The ropes were bit quick too, covered in a layer of thick mud.
Still with a wobbly ankle and a newly damaged shoulder (from getting the boulder choke wrong in Coudouliere), I took my time. Some easy meandres later and the impressive pitches were met.
Christine in the entrance of the Aven de Rocas
At the bottom of the final major pitch, we unpacked the radio location aerial and switched it on. The surface team began laying spools of line among bushes and, despite a fluctuating signal, thought they had got a fix.
Phillipe and I sat around for an hour putting the caving world to rights, while Rick sat in a higher chamber sorting out his camera for the return trip.
It was somewhat unfortunate that he had left his ‘pains au chocolate’ in our daren drum!
Christine enjoying the ‘no footholds whatsoever’ Y-hang rebelay….
Once the hour was up, we switched it off, packed it up and made our way steadily out of the cave.
My right shoulder was becoming fairly useless at this stage and I took quite a while to get off pitch heads, but this seemed to please Rick who was happily snapping away with his camera and achieving nice results.
Once back in daylight, the surface team looked a bit sheepish.
They thought they had got a fix, but the numbers and signal had been fluctuating wildly and they couldn’t work out why.
This rang a bell.
I looked up and to my horror, the cave entrance was completely surrounded by overhead powerlines.
In fact, three of them created a perfect triangle and the cave was right in the middle of it!
Graham had warned us that overhead lines would cause big fluctuations in the signal and he wasn’t wrong!
It would not have been an issue over Coudouliere – but here, the village was infested with them…
In any case, the fix point was GPS tagged and the co-ordinates given to Phillipe. He took them home and put an overlay if the cave survey onto Google Earth and …voila!
The fix was smack bang on top of the chamber we had been in.
This seemed far too good to be true…so we made plans to visit another cave – L’Esquirol – where I had never been before, to try again and make sure it was not a fluke.
We retired to the café in St Maurice de Navacelles which is always a welcome refuge after caving and diving trips.
Beautiful pitch in the Aven de Rocas
Grotte Banquier
Rich and I had the opportunity to have an early morning 60m deep dive yesterday, at a discreet location. We did lunch and chilled out the rest of the day, whilst sorting out directions for the Grotte Banquier.
Rich in Grotte Banquier. Photo: Christine Grosart
Thanks to Elaine Hill and Clive Westlake, we got it together and after driving up some lengthy forestry track, we parked up and did a bit of casting around before finding the right path to the entrance. A short fixed ladder leads to some well travelled and well decorated passage, which heads down to the lake and then the sump. This would be an easy half an hour carry with dive gear, but quite hot! The sump then leads to 1,600m of apparently quite fine passage beyond.
Definitely one to come back to with dive kit.
Rich in Grotte Banquier. Photo: Christine Grosart
Rich in Grotte Banquier. Photo: Christine Grosart
Episode Cevanol
The rains which had thwarted the Coudouliere project - and had also killed two people in Montpellier the week before we arrived - were not done with us yet.
Overnight, during Rassemblement Caussenard, the heavens opened and a serious storm caused rivers to burst their banks. Drive ways simply slid into rivers, caves were in flood and landslides were everywhere. Roads began closing and the rain showed no sign of stopping.
We decided to head home a day early.
Images: Tim Chapman
L'Esquirol
Christine about to abseil into the abyss
I had heard about the cave but had never got around to actually going there. This is not surprising as it really isn’t easy to find. Jean Tarrit met us at St Maurice de Navacelles and we followed him through some winding lanes and through an obscure farm fence and down a track to a clearing. The cave was a short walk up from the parking spot.
With only 4 hangers between us, rigging it was inventive and I set about it carefully. Ashley followed me down and we set up the radio location aerial on a flat bit of floor on the other side of some big decorations.
Ash then buggered off for half an hour into some wretched, muddy crawl while I set up my camera and tripod to take photos of the pitch.
Ash ascending the entrance pitch. Image: Christine Grosart
Meanwhile, Rich and Jean set about doing the location on the surface and, true to form, they got a good 'null' with the help of dive spools in a prickly bush.
Ash came back absolutely plastered in red mud having found the most horrid passage in the cave. I photographed him as he headed up the pitch and followed shortly.
Rich then kitted up and headed down the pitch to have a look around the chamber and retrieve the underground aerial.
Christine talks Rich over the edge
Pleased with the job, we were heading back to the camp site when we found Jean searching the car for his lost phone. We searched everywhere but could not find it either at the cave or in the road. Fortunately he eventually found it - in pieces in the road a little further up from where we had stopped.
Not a great ending to an otherwise pleasant day.
Longer Licanke
The team returned to Croatia for the fifth year of exploration in Izvor Licanke, as the cave just kept on giving.
This year, with the expectation that the cave would continue deep for quite some time, we tried to cut down on deco and dive times by taking scooters. Rich and I purchased a Suex XK1 each and are super grateful to Suex Scooters for helping find us appropriate machines.
Chris in sump 2. Image: Mark Burkey
In addition, my good friend Clare Pooley didn’t bat an eyelid at offering to loan us two of her own smaller scooters for use as back ups.
Rich and I dived on our rebreathers and scooters to the 2018 limit and began laying line and surveying. To our astonishment, the cave changed and turned into a big boulder wall which seemed to be trending quite steeply upwards. I was getting twitchy about my low levels of oxygen as I’d not had a complete fill and doing two ascents would leave me quite thin. At 38m depth and after 40 or so metres of line-laying we turned around to make another plan for the cave which again threatened to surface.
Fun and games trying to remove Rita from a borrowed wetsuit
We did our decompression in 7 degrees and surfaced after a 3 hour dive. I was super grateful for my Fourth Element X-Core vest and my She-P which are essential for dives like this.
The next day was Rich and Ash’s turn and the cave did exactly as we thought and surfaced in a large tunnel.
Rich didn’t have a helmet light so opted not to get out of the water while Ash made his way down the passage and located a further two sumps over the next few days.
How the cave sees us
I elected not to dive again as my preferred dive partner was Rich and he’d declared he was done for the week. I was tired after my 3 hour dive and my deco may have been a bit thin for me, so we started making plans to return in 2020.
The cave is now 1.5km long and the total amount of cave surveyed in 2019 was 601 metres. My team had explored a total of 1125 metres since we started in 2015.
Gang of 2019: Rick, Ash, Robbie, Christine, Rich, Mark, Rita, Jess.
We must express our gratitude to the Ghar Parau Foundation for yet again giving us a grant and likewise, the Mount Everest Foundation for again selecting our project for an award.
Gettin' down with the Beeb
The next stop on my whistle stop tour of the North Sea was an FPSO (Floating Production Storage Offload) a kind of production oil tanker.
It was my first shot at ‘Vantage’ as well as the medic role. I can safely say that helicopter admin is rather stressful and I was grateful to the permanent medic on board for a decent handover.
Vantage is an offshore tracking system and used for managing flights, sometimes 2 or 3 a day on the Gryphon Alpha. I was up to my eyeballs in paperwork but it was nice having a new string to my bow.
“Hurry up” I thought, impatiently.
I was squashed up against the window seat of a Bristow AW139 helicopter, which had decided to take a tour of Aberdeen airport before finally allowing us to disembark.
North Sea Taxi
I struggled out of my life jacket, kicked off my flight suit and switched on my mobile phone, which hadn’t worked for the last three weeks offshore.
I was about to demand a taxi when a text message pinged:
“Hi, it’s Mark from the One Show. Are you free for a call?”
I flew home to Bristol, threw all my dive kit in the van and drove straight down to Falmouth where the Ghost Fishing UK team were already in the swing of surveying large lost nets on the wreck of the Epsilon.
The BBC was keen to meet Ghost Fishing UK and film our work for a feature.
After a pleasant evening meal with the crew and the divers, the next morning we set about loading the boat ready to recover a big trawl net, intermingled with monofilament.
Preparing for filming with teh One Show; Lucy Siegle, Mark the producer and Christine
Lucy Siegle was the presenter of the One Show and wanted to interview me.
I’m far more comfortable behind the camera, doing the interviews myself and I picked up several tips from the professionals as we went.
First, the “walking to the camera shot”. Lucy and I walked painfully slowly along the 3 foot wide jetty towards the camera, Lucy asking me open questions with me trying to answer them without looking where I was going.
If I fell in, I thought, not only would the whole thing be ruined but our team of divers would probably be hospitalised with laughter...
An hour later, the producer asked us for a “foot shot”.
Lucy and I stared at our feet in horror! We weren’t dressed for this! Who wants to look at our feet?!
Neither of us were wearing our Jimmy Choos! I had my scabby old work trainers on and Lucy had dressed for comfort too. Oh no...
So there we were, doing an impression of the opening credits to “The Bill” (showing my age) along the jetty while our team let out audible yawns from the boat. They were getting sunburnt and impatient.
We wrapped up as the soundman recorded background noise (who knew that was a thing?) and we jumped on board Gary Fox’s boat from Dive Action, Cornwall.
Sharing a joke with Lucy Siegle and the sound lady
We always charter hard boats as they can take more divers, making us more effective and efficient and for media jobs, we often like to hire out fishing boats or a second dive boat to assist with recovering the nets. Anglo Dawn skipper Andy Howell kindly stepped up to offer a vessel for the BBC film crew and also for landing the nets we recovered.
Mark, the director, had an ambitious idea to splice the underwater footage of the lift bags underwater and then breaching the surface with the net, by using a drone overhead. The beauty of working with Ghost Fishing divers is that they are meticulous in their planning and it was actually quite easy to schedule the shot.
“The bags will be coming up 40 minutes after the divers jump”.
The crew looked at us with some skepticism but, true to our word, at 40 minutes the drone was up in the air and took a fantastic aerial shot of all the bags and the filthy brown water stain from the nets breaching the surface.
Sharing a joke with Lucy Siegle from the One Show
Once back on the boat, Fred, John and I jumped across to Anglo Dawn to help pull the huge tangle of nets on board and the camera crew got stuck in filming and recording everything they could. I was most impressed with the director as he rolled his sleeves up and grabbed the net and started helping to haul it in.
Lucy Siegle seized the opportunity for a ‘on the fly’ interview as we plucked trapped animals from the net.
She squatted down at the back of the boat, which was starting to get a bit lively as we rocked side to side with the waves.
She began asking me questions about the nets, the animals we were releasing and the problem the plastic nets would cause if left in the ocean.
“So, Christine, tell me what it feels like to bring up one of these nets”
I began answering when she suddenly sprang to her feet, staggered over to the side of the boat and began feeding the fish!
Perplexed, we waited a moment and she came back, wiped her mouth and carried on with the interview as if nothing had happened!
Now that’s a professional!
Lucy was afforded the role of releasing an edible crab back into the sea and this made her day.
We headed in to Falmouth marina to undergo the painstaking task of unloading the net, all the kit and wheeling it back to our cars and Fred’s trailer.
The camera crew wanted shots of us unloading the huge, heavy nets and we set about passing it between half a dozen of us over the side of the boat and onto the jetty.
It was super heavy, stank and got caught on everything.
We had just about finished when the camera guy said “Awesome guys....I don’t suppose you could just do that again?”
We all looked at each other and in unison replied, “No!”
The final cut on the BBC One Show
Every little girl's dream
Chris riding at sunset in Essaouira, Morocco
Riding along a beach at sunset on your Arab stallion.
It's the stuff of dreams, right?
Well, dreams can happen if you make them.
Morrocco is an easy going melting pot of many different cultures.
I spent my entire childhood dreaming about racehorses, winning the Grand National (that didn't happen, by the way) and while my girl friends at school adorned their bedrooms with 'Take That' and "East 17' I decorated every inch of my bedroom wall with posters of a grey horse - Desert Orchid - and newspaper cuttings of the 2003/4 National Hunt championship battle between Richard Dunwoody MBE (my hero) and Adrian Maguire (not my hero).
I spent my dinner money on the Racing Post and went hungry as a compromise. After all, jockeys were hungry all the time...and I was going to be one!
Going down to the start in my second race, 2001
Riding in races was a dream and there can't be many people who realise their dreams. My first race was a 3 mile steeplechase - always one for diving in the deep end - and I was proud as punch to be in the shake up and not disgrace myself.
Young girls who dream of horses watch films like the Black Stallion over and over again and the film always chokes me. Not because it is sad - but because the beauty of the horse depicted in the film is so astounding.
A couple of years ago Rich and I headed out to Morocco with the promise of a sunset ride on some Arab horses on the beach. It seemed to good to be true. Rich had a few riding lessons at home and we headed out.
I believe learning to ride is best done in the real world and not an arena going round in circles.
Rich found his balance and despite one tumble and half an hour trying to catch a very spirited Arab who had the whole west coast of Africa at his disposal, we were soon cantering along the beach at sunset and playing in the warm sand dunes with our sure footed steeds.
Achraf and his arab stallion on the crazy Essaouira beach
A few days later, still hungry for more, Rich took a quad bike and a camera while I met up with Achraf, a young Moroccan boy who made his small fortune by offering up his Arab horses for us western women to enjoy.
I missed a good old burn up so Achraf and I met up and had races up and down the beach, fetlock deep in the Atlantic Ocean. Nothing, absolutely nothing, beats it.
This spring, I invited a couple of caving friends - Faye and Nicky - to join me on a four day trek in Morocco.
We trekked around farmsteads, galloped along miles of empty beaches, swam with the horses in the sea, met wild camels and ate round a camp fire on cliff tops and slept in bedouin tents. We ate amazing food, the horses had at least 4 sand rolls a day and we enjoyed stunning coastal scenery.
Nikki and Faye and some wild camels
We rode through a small village where some children were returning from school. They soon accosted us and were thrown up onto our steeds to get a welcome ride home. Well, to their open air swimming pool which is where they seemed to spend their afternoons.
How lucky, I thought. While these children were clearly poor, they took enormous joy in riding an Arab stallion home from school and then taking an afternoon dip in their pool. They were happy, joyful children and I envied their childhood.
There really is a sense of freedom when you are galloping along an endless beach with the wind in your hair and sand in your face. Just you and your Arab stallion. And perhaps some friends who understand what an amazing feeling it is.
Thank you to Equivasion in Essouira for yet another incredible adventure.
Kerensa Kernow
Who doesn’t love Cornwall?
Stunning scenery, wild places, mysterious history and turquoise seas.
North Cornwall coast. Image: Christine Grosart
I’ve been visiting Cornwall ever since I was child, including one infamous family caravan holiday where we had to take the kitten, Whiskey, along too as he was too young for his jabs and couldn’t go into a cattery...
We’d stop on the A38 to let him have a wee in his litter tray (on a lead!) and had to hide him in the Sennen caravan when the campsite man came round for his money.
Animals weren’t allowed!
During the Covid-19 crisis earlier in the year we stayed away from all tourist traps and apart from work, didn’t venture further than our home on Mendip.
It wasn’t fair to Cornwall for people to descend en mass, so we waited until the county was happily open and ready for business.
We packed Agnetha to be as independent as possible and booked some very nice campsites in Looe, Fowey and Porthkerris.
A month of lockdown when I returned from Atlantis, meant working on my new wheels.
Agnetha is my Citreon Spacetourer. With 6 rear seats removed and a wet floor out in, she has been fitted out with a removable rock 'n roll bed, curtains and now the most important thing in covid times: A Porta potty!
Now then, skip this part if you already know about campervan toilets....
A porta potty is possibly the best thing I have ever invested in. Make sure you get the green toilet chem as it is better for the environment and smells better....
Read the instructions on how to use it and NEVER put wetwipes down the porta potty (the same way you would NEVER put them down an actual toilet).
Keep a plentiful supply of bog rolls in the car (I use beautifully wrapped ones from Whogivesacrap)
Agnetha the spacetourer
These were areas I didn’t normally frequent, typically gravitating towards places I knew well such as Marazion, Penzance and The Lizard.
This was a little adventure. We packed our hiking gear, recreational diving kit and of course, our cameras.
We had a decent walk to Looe and swung by the extremely pretty fishing village of Polperro.
We treated ourselves to a little shore dive at Talland Bay with a convenient car park and a café that sold prosecco.
After an hour or so I scared Rich as he lost me. I was in 1 metre of water eking out the last scraps of gas, taking photos of snails… There is probably a reason why underwater photographers often dive solo!
After a couple of nights we moved house and set up at a campsite near Fowey. I’d never been there and found a lovely walk in glorious weather, from the app iwalk cornwall. The scenery was stunning, the water sparkling and we wrapped up a perfect day at the Old Ferry Inn, with Cornish sardines and dressed crab overlooking the Fowey estuary.
I also highly recommend a visit to the Fowey River Gallery which is full of stunning artwork, plus a trip around to Readymoney cove, close to St Catherine’s Castle.
An absolute godsend was my decision to buy a proper camping cooker - rather than just a single burner.
With two of us, we needed a decent cooker and went with the trusted brand campinggaz and it didn't disappoint. It also took up very little space.
I decided that kayaks were the best way to explore the estuary, so we hired some for the day and set off up the river, paddling in amongst the yachts and exploring the boat graveyard.
Rich was surprised to come across Loyal Watcher, now used for commercial diver training. It was a vessel he was very familiar with when he was tech diving in the late 90s, when she was then owned by Richie Stevenson.
We wrapped up the day in Jo Downs Handmade Glass shop. I left with a mirror that I’d had my eye on for about a decade! I’m a huge fan of her work and I was very proud to trot off down Fowey high street with my prize in hand!
We had been to Porthkerris before, albeit only for diving with Ghost Fishing UK. We managed to set up in a nice spot on the cliff edge overlooking the beach and had super easy access for diving and the facilities.
St Michael’s mount, Marazion, Cornwall. Image: Christine Grosart
I set about the local dive spot with underwater camera in tow. I was a little disappointed by the lack of wildlife and the poor visibility. I think the latter was caused by other divers, but we couldn’t find an explanation for the critters - there was barely anything there!
Then we went on a night dive.
In typical fashion, the cool stuff came right at the end. A super cool and very friendly cuttle fish was hunting right in front of us, using our video lights to home in on his prey.
Once done, he investigated our Paralenz which made for some pretty awesome viewing.
I was sad to leave Cornwall early and head back offshore, but work is work and it was a welcome short break in the sun.
The Epilogue
The Krnica dive team know how to throw a good BBQ.
You can’t get away with a trip to Krnica without at least one good BBQ.
Despite being in Fuzine, we kept the tradition. We spent the first day looking for this elusive BBQ and couldn’t find it. It wasn’t until several days later that we realised that the accommodation had a whole room dedicated to BBQ – decorated with various stuffed animals, of course. Robbie set to work and cooked up a storm and there were a few sore heads the next day.
We spent some time doing some interviews of the team for the forthcoming film on the project and then headed off to the local show cave which we were pretty convinced linked up somehow with Licanke.
First of all, Spilja Vrelo was downstream of Licanke – so our efforts some distance upstream were unlikely to see us popping up out of the water and terrifying the tourists. It might well link to Affluent du Charlotte, a smaller dry passage which heads south east not far from the first sump. Either way, the show cave guide didn’t know much about it.
The show cave was short but well decorated and the cool of the underground was a welcome break from the baking heat outside. We went for a drive up into the hills, almost directly north of where our survey was heading. We were met with thick forestry and a non-starter of a task to find sink holes.
Mark, Ash, Rick, Rich, Chris
We had the whole of the mountain to explore yet and it was probably easiest done underground…
We said goodbye to Rick, who had an impending date with his daughter’s ballet performance and set off via several scenic routes to Krnica. Unpacking the van was a hot and sweaty affair and we shoved various items into various bags and boxes for bringing back to the UK at various intervals.
Rich fortunately managed to get hold of some squid and chips from the café next door to Krnica dive centre as I was getting withdrawal symptoms and we headed off to pizza Kum to catch up with JP & Anne-Marie Bresser.
I decided that our last day should be spent in the sea. Ash and Mark looked a little nervous for their own reasons.
Ash did not have much experience on his rebreather in the sea and wasn’t confident in his use of a twinset, but he would give it a go.
Ash, Mark and Chris on the bow of the Lina wreck, Croatia
Mark knew this was a bit of a step up for him, but we were confident he would be OK. We sorted our gear the next morning and headed out on Santi Boat, a large and comfortable dive boat with an awning for shade and a nice bow to lie on and soak up the sun.
The two hour ride took us out to the SS Lina. She has been on the seabed for a long time and is 100 years old. She is a proper mini Titanic – completely intact, bolt upright on the seabed and the stern is 20 metres deeper than the bow, allowing divers to pick their depths. We would dive it on nitrox this time and stay in the forward area.
JP and his students jumped in first and we took our time and descended as a team. Rich and Ash headed off to play with photos and I took Mark on a gentle tour. I could tell he was enjoying himself and we spent half an hour enjoying the warm water, the view and the fish. Mark surfaced spluttering about how amazing it was and after lunch, we set off for another dive.
Mark peered down into the now empty holds and gestured if he could go and take a look. I replied “Of course” and Mark immediately went inverted and shot head down into the hold and swam about, enjoying his new environment.
I began to wonder if his ideas of finishing his diving career when he got home were founded at all. Rich took some photos and Ash had vanished into some overhead compartment to make himself feel more at home.
More sunbathing on the return journey and we cleaned up and packed, ready for another BBQ at Krnica Dive centre. We caught up with old friends, made new ones and hatched plans for the next trip. This is about as perfect as dive trips go and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.
We cannot thank the team at Krnica dive enough, nor Apeks for their support and the gang who put in so much time, effort and money to support the exploration. We fully intend to come back soon with rebreathers and find out what secrets Licanke holds next.
Empty cave ahead
I had just lost Rich Walker...
Morning broke and the team were treated to myself and Rich arguing over our identical 5mm wetgloves…
This is normal. It’s pre-dive stress and we had to get rid of it somehow. Better with each other than the rest of the team.
Breakfast and coffee out of the way and normality resumed, we headed to the cave via the local shop, to get some provisions. The underground food was getting complaints, so Ash and Rick, given that we had very little to carry on this day, decided that they were going to cook hot dogs.
We ventured into the butchers to purchase some BBQ food for the evening and Rick sought out some European looking sausages in a jar from the supermarket.
But we needed buns. So, spotting some likely looking hot dog buns, Ash gathered up a good handful…
Chris and Rich ready to set off into sump 2
Myself and Rich got into our drysuits and it was a careful caving trip to sump 2, trying hard not to slip over and rip them. We took 5 minutes to ourselves whilst floating in the lakes to talk through our dive plan and deco schedule on the fly – we simply didn’t know what depth this cave would go to or where it would go next, so we opted for 60 metres maximum depth and a total run time of about 40 minutes from the bottom of the shaft.
This gave us 10 minutes to get to the end of last years line and another 10 minutes at whatever depth to lay some more. I was running the line again and Rich would be trying to jot down a survey behind me. We also knew that we needed to bridge the buried line with a spare spool, so that went in the kit list as well.
I would go in first and tie off the ‘good’, larger camera to the oxygen drop to give me something to do on deco. I’d take the go-pro all the way but, having lost the attachment which tied it to the new halcyon cordless torches, I’d have to hand hold it, which is a bit tricky really when laying line! I’d have to see how it went…
On unpacking the bags of ‘stuff’ I realised I had left the carefully cut out and laminated “Eurotek Divers Get Everywhere” cookie back at the ranch. Oh well, that was the least important item. And forget to take the glory marker…..
Kitting up was a relatively chilled affair. Rick helped me on with my 4 sidemount bottles and Ash did the same for Rich. We had lots of light from the filming lights, which was quite welcome and the promise of hot dogs when we came back. Mark had a good go at taking photos and video but the water was chilly and I was itching to get on with it, knowing how cold it was last time. We had a lot of dexterity work to do with camera, line reels, bottle juggling etc so opted for 5mm wet gloves again.
Next time we’ll definitely go dry…
Setting off the visibility was noticeably clearer than last time and we soon passed the oxygen bottles which Ash had placed. Going along the right wall we got a birds eye view of the shaft and could see that the line was not in a good place against the overhanging wall. Frank had doubtless had very little option as he’d experienced much worse visibility. I had a good look and spotted a much better route for the line which we would be replacing on a follow up trip if the cave ‘went’ this time.
The line was laid in 1998 and was thin and had been given a good battering by the winter floods every year since. Typically for Frank, it was well laid and belayed, just needed re-routing in the shaft.
The shaft was my worry. I was very pleased that Rich agreed with me that we would not hang about there decompressing, rather we would rattle through it and fix the deco at the bottom and the top. The mud on the overhanging wall turns the visibility to zero and coupled with a frail line, we were worried about it snagging on our multiple bottles and breakages. A line break in there would be a nightmare and pretty dangerous.
Chris at sump 2. Photo Mark Burkey
We soon met the 50% deco bottles and continued down the gravel slope to bridge the buried line. Rich set about doing this and we went on, enjoying the cave and its stunning visibility. It didn’t take long to reach the end of Frank’s line and the beginning of ours from last year. It was still in good condition and we carried on in gently undulating cave at an average depth of 38 metres until I recognised my last tie off. I unclipped my line reel and tried to keep relaxed.
Going into unknown cave is exciting and it takes experience to keep your cool. Slow is smooth and smooth is fast, I thought. I didn’t want to waste time fumbling about, so I sorted my regulator switch and tied in the reel. I signalled to Rich and he signalled back, digging out his wetnotes and compass.
We were off! The cave, to my relief, didn’t really trend much deeper.
We did reach 50m at one stage but it stayed roughly in the 45m mark. The undulating sand dunes in the floor were rippled and pretty. The left wall continued sweeping around shallow bend and the right wall could be seen about 10 metres away. I found good tie offs every 15 metres or so.
As much as I wanted to just string out the line as fast as possible, the nature of the cave means that line breaks Unknown territory right ahead are inevitable as it takes thunderous amount of water in flood. Tie offs would make future issues easier to fix. I kept swimming. The go-pro became a pain with the line reel so I reluctantly clipped it off.
My gauges began to threaten to turn me around. I was approaching my gas margins and the cave was still going… At -43m I met a gradual slope upwards with hardly any tie offs. Typical. I went a few metres further and found a slab of rock in the floor. It wasn’t perfect but it was all we had. I wrapped the line Chris reels out the line around it, cut it free and Rich and I both thumbed the dive. The release of pressure as we turned is instant.
Of course, you’re not out of the woods. Mountain ascents don’t count if you die on the way back down. But for 10 minutes Rich and I had a fantastic dive along the new passage, especially as I was now behind him and could enjoy the view with the benefit of his silhouette behind his light.
Rich was swimming about and clearly enjoying it. We negotiated the sand slope and had some bottle juggling as we ditched the very buoyant Ali 80s and got rid of them onto a leash. We clipped the 50% bottles on and did our gas switch in deteriorating visibility. We set off up the shaft. Rich was now just behind me and all seemed to be going well.
As the shaft became more awkward, we went single file. I was just thinking that it didn’t seem as bad as last time, when the unthinkable happened.
“Oh Sh*t!” I repeated it several times in my head and also out loud to myself through my regulator. “Just keep calm, keep your head….you have loads of gas to go looking for him and he has plenty of gas too…..”
Despite loads of training and plenty of “Oh sh*t” moments over many years cave diving in less than desirable conditions in British caves….nothing quite prepares you for that moment when your boyfriend is in acute danger.
I had just lost Rich Walker.
The broken end of the line flailed behind me and I stared at it in horror. We knew this would happen. A 19 year old, thin exploration line in a slightly off-vertical shaft, which gets battered every winter by floods and melt water from the mountains above the cave entrance, with sparse, psychological belays and zero visibility…add to the mix a bouquet of spent ali 80s and there we had it. An emergency.
I gathered up the loose line to stop it forming another hazard and wrapped it around a nodule of rock on the sloping wall. Trembling, from both fear and the cold, I unclipped my exploration reel whilst staring into the fog in the hope of seeing his light. There was nothing but silence and the glow from my torch. I tied in the line reel and set off to where I had come from. Rich, doubtless thinking I was trying to assassinate him, calmly deployed his search reel and headed upwards, following the overhanging wall.
No sooner had I set off down the shaft, we ran into each other. Fear turned to overwhelming relief and the sicky feeling turned to butterflies.
Rich returns with mostly empty bottles
We tied our reels off and made our way to the 6 metre oxygen drop, shivering in the 7 degree water at the end of a 97 minute dive. We had just discovered beautiful, virgin cave passage but for 5 extremely concerning minutes, it barely seemed worth it. We finished our deco, cold but relieved.
On surfacing, Mark was at the ready with his camera. I gave him 5 minutes to get is shots. Poor guy, but I was super cold and by the time Rick waded into the sump pool to help me off with my gear, I was shivering uncontrollably.
We really, really needed those hot dogs!
Ash and Rick eating the hot dogs…with bread! Image: Mark Burkey
We climbed the small boulder pile to the make shift kitchen to be met with a very sheepish Ashley, who was poking the sausages around in the boiling water.
“The bread fell in the water…” he lied.
“You mean there is no bread?!!” I wailed.
Like two naughty school children, Rick and Ash started giggling and Mark hid.
“Well, on the upside…they were covered in sugar!”
Ash had bought the Croatian equivalent of iced buns instead of hot dog rolls and we felt a little more smug.
Rich and I scalded our fingers fishing the hot dogs out of the boiling water and ate the lot in minutes.
Ash raided Rich’s wetnotes, wanting to know how much line we had laid. We didn’t know and didn’t care. Last year we only laid 42 metres at 42m depth on our first dive in sump 2. In France we had laid 42 metres on our last dive in Fourmi Perdreau. I had laid 42 metres in Garrel in 2012……
“You’ll never guess what!” Ash called out.
“Don’t!” I said “DON’T tell me it’s 42 metres!!”
Ash laughed.
“Nawwwww…you laid 99!!!”
Bloody 3m knot intervals. That’s going to change next time…..
Rich and the empty bottle bouquet
"That was a f***ing epic dive!"
Day two, and we were on schedule.
All the bottles, harnesses and lead had arrived at the bottom of the climb. Ash replaced the rope on the climb, which was looking a bit frayed. Chris carrying a dive cylinder in the dry cave Mark wielded his camera, shooting video for our short film and this was expectedly time consuming, but it was important to get the lighting and the focusing right.
Once at sump 2, Rich decided that standing still was too difficult and somehow manage to step backwards and trip over a small, sharp lump of rock. I turned to see him doing a backwards flying angel into the streamway. Unfortunately, he landed on another, larger lump of sharp rock which caused an impressive bruise on his thigh which seemed to grow day by day.
Rich’s bruise spreading nicely…
Whilst by our standards, the caving was easy, you cannot take your eye off the ball for a moment in this cave as it is so seldom travelled and the rocks are sharp and friable.
Boulders move and hand holds sheer off. Rescue from outside isn’t really an option, so the team tried hard to exercise care.
Ash set off into the sump and returned half an hour later, spluttering about having had a “f***ing epic dive!” The visibility was crystal but as expected, had gone to zero in the 21m deep shaft where mud clings to the roof and exhalation bubbles bring it down. Ash also reported that Frank’s old line was buried for several metres on the sand slope beyond the 21m deco drop, so a spool would be needed to clear it. He’d had a go at pulling it out but it wasn’t budging. To push that amount of sand upslope, there must have been some serious flooding over the winter.
Ash with the stash of bottles
Satisfied, Ash left with his bottles and we re-grouped to take some still images and a bit more video. It took 8 flashguns to light up the main passage and the results were stunning. We stood in precarious positions, looking this way and that way, while Mark composed his shots. The dry cave is big, with sharp black rocks and boulder at foot and reddish mud walls closer to the roof. There are some decorations but not many and the boulder choke with rocks the size of cars, is hot and sweaty and slippery going. It’s always a relief to get back into the streamway again to cool off.
Main passage between sumps 1 and 2. Image: Mark Burkey
Lunch was an interesting affair.
Ash doesn’t really eat anything other than Haribo and Nutella and usually opted to go without. We found some tins of tuna salad which survive sumps quite well, but this time brought them through in the dry tube with some forks this time…. They weren’t very nice but they were edible. I bought some jaffa cakes and thought chocolate and cherry sounded pretty cool, but they soon invited complaints. It seems gastronomy is an issue underground so we definitely needed to work on something better to keep the troops happy the next day.
As we surfaced from sump 1, Robbie was there – as he always is – to pull the twinsets out of the awkward concrete pumping station. Rich looked at my twinset and picked up the go pro which had been clipped off to my harness. “Ooh, that doesn’t look good…..” Water was sloshing around in the housing. I opened it quickly, pulled the battery out and Mark gave me some silica gel to begin the possibly pointless task of drying it out. The cave had killed the second camera in as many years and I was quite annoyed. Luckily Ash had one and offered it to me to use in the second sump, for which we were very grateful.
The days were always followed up by cold beers, housed in Rick’s huge ice box. Robbie found us a nice restaurant, which served up trays of delicious food…we had pork, sauerkraut, huge balls of home made gnocci and a meat stew. The local wine was superb and we always made an effort to get out of the cave in reasonable time for tea. Nobody wants to still be in the cave late into the evening so the extra days were welcomed.
I was a little nervous about the next days dive. There is always a lot of pressure. We had brought these guys out to help us, spent 3 months training Mark to cave dive, Ash had driven 2 days to be here, Rick drove down from the Netherlands….even though they wouldn’t have batted an eyelid if we had failed, we definitely did not want to let them down.
I went through my check list in my head over and over and at some point, fell asleep.
We're gonna need more lead...
Richard Walker was already in Croatia, settling in for several weeks of teaching technical diving courses once our cave exploration was over. Ashley Hiscock drove down from the UK in remarkable time and didn’t manage to get arrested once!
He brought the larger items, such as the two dry tubes for camera gear, food, filming lights, flash bulbs and flashguns. Mark and I had tested our pelicases and ‘depth proof’ camera boxes in a local quarry and they all flooded.
We decided that the camera boxes could not be trusted, so we would dive them through flooded, dry them out the far side of the sump and re-pack the camera gear from the dry tubes into them for easier transportation through the cave.
Rick Van Dijk Rick Van Dijk drove from the Netherlands and brought some cylinders and extra gas in case we needed to top up the bottles for sump 1. Ash and Rich play ‘sink the dry tube’
Mark and I flew on a convenient new flight from Bristol to Pula. The journey was uneventful and we spent the flight going through our plan to make a short movie of the project. Mark is a superb photographer but he had never really got into shooting video, so this was a great opportunity for him to give it a whirl. We spent a day in a welsh cave practising and getting camera settings and lighting right before the trip, which was time well spent.
One important job was to get the dry tubes weighted for diving through sump 1.
No matter how much you fill them, they seem unsinkable! They need a lot of lead and Ash and Rich had fun trying to weight the ex Gavin standard body scooter with two nose cones, in the sea! At least we would need 2 kilos less in the cave. Even then, it rode like a wild animal…
Christine analyses and marks up cylinders in Krnica
Robbie from Krnica Dive Centre came with us and he was in charge of making sure logistics went smoothly. He located our accommodation and did all the Croatian speaking for us. The gite style house was warm, comfy and had the best BBQ room we’ve ever seen. It was also home to an extraordinary array of stuffed animals, from bears to fighting pheasants, stoats and deer heads. It was a bit strange but caused a few giggles.
Morning from our bedroom looked sunny and pleasant. After breakfast and a plan of the day, we headed to Licanke, a short drive from Fuzine and set off into the cave.
Rick with the stash of gear.
Mark was undertaking his first cave dive, chaperoned by Rich and myself and had no trouble at all. He thoroughly enjoyed it and surfaced on the far side of sump 1, grinning from ear to ear. We shed our twinsets and started drying out the camera boxes while the dry tubes and exploration bottles came through with Rich, Rick and Ash.
Mark dives sump 1 in Izvor Licanke. Image: Mark Burkey
The next job was to inflate the Halcyon life raft. We acquired this odd bit of kit many years ago and were never really sure what it was for. It turned out to be quite useful for cave diving projects and to date, has never been in the sea! The gear stash The deep lakes were the first obstacles in this cave. Dropping heavy bottles in here would have been a nightmare and swimming them across the lakes very cumbersome and time consuming.
We worked out that the best way to do this was to load the life raft with bottles and scooter it across the lakes. Mark set up the filming lights and shot some great video of the whole affair. We set aside 2 days for the filming and to get all the gear to sump 2. Half the job was done on day 1 and we were on schedule.
Chris moving gear across the lakes using a scooter and Halcyon life raft
Bambi on Ice
My feet keep sinking!” Mark protested as he spluttered out another mouth full of chlorinated pool water. “I’ll never get the hang of this”.
A chilly, dark, damp evening at a swimming pool in Bristol was to be the first of Mark Burkey’s cave diving lessons. Well, not strictly true. 15 years ago he undertook a PADI open water course on his honeymoon…immediately followed by his Advanced open water course.
He had not dived since and admitted to never feeling completely safe with the training he had been given or the experience he’d had.
Mark jumps into scuba diving
He instructed me to treat him as a complete beginner and that matched my plan entirely.
His first job was to join the Cave Diving Group. Never an easy thing and neither should it be. Qualified divers mentor new members and trainees in all aspects of cave diving in British sumps, which are usually small, cold and miserable.
The CDG dive sidemount for this reason and the group has been doing it for a very long time, decades before the commercial sidemount courses emerged.
Mark moves on to diving in open water
Training is free, as the group is an amateur organisation, but it takes several years as there is a lot to cover, much experience to be gained and success is solely reliant on the motivation and time constraints of both mentor and trainee.
I once pointed out to a group AGM that training in the CDG was not indeed free. It costs me several hundreds of pounds a year to train a new diver…
Mark, being well known as a thoroughly decent bloke, active caver and phenomenal cave photographer, plus being proposed by me, had no difficulty in being elected unanimously. The deal was that I would train him in back mounted gear (as appropriate for this particular cave) and we would write a specific training programme for him around that.
He would join specifically for the trip to Croatia and then once the job was done, let his membership lapse. If he suddenly fell in love with cave diving and wanted to continue, he would become my responsibility and trainee. Mark felt this was highly unlikely.
The penny starts to drop
With a little time around the CDG meeting, I introduced Mark to the diving gear he would be using. It was a twinset and wing set up, GUE style and identical to mine. I walked him through gas analysis, how manifolds work, different types of cylinders, how to switch regulators and where all the inflators and deflators were. We did some dry skill runs and Mark got the opportunity to build and strip down his equipment.
Mark is put through intensive diving training and is an exemplary student
Roll on a week and Mark had driven a long way for the first of his diving lessons, so we made the most of it and arrived at the pool a little early to join the public swim before my scuba club arrived. The idea that he needed to be a decent swimmer had escaped him and the first job was to fix his comfort in the water. He was not a natural waterbaby.
Legs waved around everywhere, sinking occasionally happened and effort was overriding finesse and efficiency; All of which needed to be fixed before we even put our fins on. The hour swimming lesson resulted in a steep improvement and I began to realise that Mark takes education very seriously, likes getting better at things and more often than not, gets new stuff right first time.
I was beginning to think I could definitely work with this guy.
Mark enters a new world, making new diving buddies
The scuba club began to arrive so I popped outside to bring in Mark’s gear as well as my own. My friend Jayme, a solid GUE diver and all round great helper of all things, accompanied us to help out and shot some video to help with the feedback. The biggest surprise to Mark was the difference in how ‘We’ do things as opposed to how ‘He’ had been taught in Lanzarote on his honeymoon.
We don’t wag our legs up and down, dragging up the silt. Rather, we frog kick and glide. We don’t do our skills resting on the bottom. We establish neutral buoyancy and the ability to hover in a horizontal trim, completely still; no matter how long that takes. Then the skills are just monkey see, monkey do.
This short film shows his progress after 2 pool dives and 7 open water training days.
The initial dives were like bambi on ice. Establishing stability in mid water is tricky when you have been taught to do your skills kneeling down and at lift off, keep swimming to stay off the bottom…while doubtlessly over-weighted and negative. By the end of the hour in the water Mark knew what was expected of him and the penny was dropping.
After another pool dive, we were ready to get hold of a 7mm semi dry and move into open water. Caving in a drysuit sucks. You either overheat or damage the suit and there is really nothing pleasant about it at all.
We were very fortunate to have been in contact with Apeks, who were very happy to support Mark for the expedition with a complete set comprising wing, backplate, harness and regulators. This meant that we did not have to worry about borrowing equipment and could simply get on with the task in hand.
In Licanke, there are several hundred metres of sharp, bouldery caving so it made sense, owing to the short first sump, to cave in wetsuits. Only Rich and I would be forced to do two journeys in drysuits, to cope with the cold on the exploration dive.
Mark goes through pre-dive checks under the close eye of Christine
Mark was put through the ringer. But he seemed to be enjoying it. He was following cave line blindfolded, doing lost line searches, emergency valve drills, S-Drills, mask removal, gas failures, more fin kick finesse….It seemed like overkill for such a short sump but we could not afford to have anyone on the expedition who was a risk.
He would have to pass the sump a minimum of 8 times and although he would be chaperoned by either Rich or myself, we wanted him to have enough stability and know what to do should anything go wrong.
Mark took it all in his stride and soaked it up like a sponge. It was not long before he began to look like a cave diver.
Nah, he can't dive...
Mark Burkey is a caver – and a bloomin good one.
In recent years he has been making a name for himself on the cave photography circuit, winning several awards and his images are in high demand from media publications and promotions. Rich and I were on the lookout for someone who could take high quality images of the project and also shoot video for our short film idea.
Now, neither Rich, Rick nor I are bad cave photographers but our attempt at documenting the project in 2016 failed miserably. First, my DSLR flooded in it’s underwater tube which rendered it useless for the remainder of the trip. The three of us were preoccupied with getting half a dozen cylinders and other diving equipment to the sump and back in 3 days so the media took a hit and we returned with almost nothing.
Put simply, we could not carry the kit, organise the trip, dive the sumps, explore the cave and video ourselves doing it. Not in the quality we wanted anyhow. We needed someone else to take on the job.
“What about Mark Burkey?” Rich tapped away on Facebook messenger while he was in some far flung country teaching a diving class.
“Nah…he can’t dive” I replied, wishing he could.
The first sump was something of an obstacle to regular dry cavers. It was only 40 metres long and no deeper than 6 metres. But even so, it was not a free dive, the water was 6 degrees last time and the visibility deteriorates inevitably as the divers drag negative loads through the sump for transportation on the far side. “Well, you’ve got 3 months to teach him…..” Rich said. I did.
A Mark Burkey image of Rick in sump 1, Izvor Licanke.
But what were the chances?
First, he would need to be free for the trip. Then he would need to want to do it and be prepared to document the whole project, which we already knew was hard work. I had only caved with him once and he barely knew me. Then he would not only need to learn to scuba dive but cave dive too. It was a tall order and I brushed off the idea whilst struggling to think of somebody else.
I was bored at work one afternoon, which is a rare occurrence and thought to myself “Stuff it…he can only say no”. I phoned him up.
Mark had been to my talk on Croatian caves at the Hidden Earth conference a year or two ago and seemed excited about the project. He would check the dates, check the flights and all being well, would be able to come along. It wasn’t long before he called me back and said he was pretty much on.
“Oh…um…there’s just one other thing” I said. “You need to learn to cave dive by June!”
A hearty laugh came down the phone followed by a definite “OK!” The adventure had begun.
Croatia Calling
Croatia is a beautiful country and one I have been very lucky to visit many times.
My partner, Richard Walker teaches technical diving in the small fishing port of Krnica, Istria and I have been out to Croatia to dive in the sea and the caves on many occasions.
Over the last couple of years, Rich and I have been visiting a particular cave in Croatia, near Rijeka called Izvor Licanke. After a couple of reconnaissance trips, we explored completely virgin underwater cave last year and we were determined to return and continue the exploration.
The cave is a resurgence, meaning that the underwater passage meets daylight as water pours out from underground into the river and lakes downstream. There is a short, shallow ‘sump’ or flooded passage which soon surfaces in a couple of lakes and some huge passageways beyond. A high boulder climb up to almost the roof, leads back down to the river again and a short distance upstream the second sump is met.
Sump 2 was first dived by French explorer, Frank Vasseur way back in 1998 and he dived for 140 metres to a depth of -36 metres. Due to local politics the team and everyone else were denied access and the sump remained unexplored until 2016 when Richard and I, having spoken to Frank, extended his line with the efforts of only a small team of ourselves and our Dutch friend, Rick Van Dijk.
The slightly awkward cave entrance
With permissions in place, we were able to apply three days to the project; one for carrying the diving gear through the first sump and the dry cave to sump 2; one for the exploration and one for bringing all the gear out again.
Rick Van Dijk and the 2016 equipment stash This year, Rick joined us again and I also invited my ex Cave Diving Group trainee, Ashley Hiscock, who was making quite a name for himself to come along and help.
The previous year we had struggled with time to shoot any meaningful video and I flooded my DSLR camera in the first sump when a dry tube failed, so we were keen to have someone along to do the images and video for us so that we could concentrate on the task in hand.
We had just the person in mind. But there was a catch…
The Master Cave
Izvor Licanke is a fantastic opportunity for so many things and so many of the team.
I often look back at excursions like this and smile at how everyone got something out of the trip. Not just the push divers at the sharp end, but everyone.
Only a few years ago Rick Van Dijk was taking his first steps with WetWellies Caving underground as a totally new caver.
Now, he is caving all over France and Belgium and has become a part of the furniture on the Licanke project.
Ash Hiscock is making a name for himself in the deeper, longer caves in France and Spain and I'm quite proud to have brought on a trainee who is not only still cave diving but exploring at a high level.
Robbie Varesko is a talented GUE tech diver and is phenomenally strong. As a triathlete, he makes light work of dive kit underground. He was there originally as a minder, to look after the permits and help us with logistics but as the years went on, he was desperate to get in the water and join the project.
Now he is a solid member of the team.
Rick in Izvor Licanke. Image: Mark Burkry
Mark Burkey's first real cave dive was in Licanke. From being virtually a non-diver he got a crash course over three months with me to make him safe at least in sump 1.
Now he has bought all the kit, has become a trainee in the CDG and has been enjoying diving all sorts of sumps around the UK. I look back now and cannot quite believe how far he has come - especially as it was never intended!
Rich Walker has probably gained the least from the project. He is a wreck diver so caves are lower on his interest list. He has explored enough virgin cave in Bosnia and France to keep him happy and he's done huge dives in Eagles Nest and stunning dives in Mexico. I often wonder if there s much more that this project can give him.
He does though add a lot to the project. His maths is excellent and the bailout strategy and deco plan always gets run through him before being finalised.
I think the only reason he comes back is because there is no crawling involved...
Chris scootering out of the cave in sump 1. Image: Rich Walker
For me, this is everything I ever dreamed of and more. I don't know of any other women right now who are laying virgin line at 50m in 7 degree water on rebreathers and scooters.
This, of course, being our net move.
The project has stripped me of every penny I have earned in the last 4 years. I have literally ploughed every coin I have into it.
I've had to buy a rebreather and now scooters...cave exploration doesn't come cheap at all.
Fourth Element and Otter have also supported members of our team and Halcyon have also been brilliant in helping out with lighting, most notably the interchangeable batteries which are a godsend on the cordless lights.
Discovering part of this planet and being the first person ever to go there is hard to beat. It was so good I made a film about it.
The terms 'Adventure' and 'Exploration' are very confusing these days and have very different meanings to how I understand them.
Being out on a limb and beyond any sort of rescue is where the real adventure starts.
If somebody was there before me, it's not exploration.
Chris in sump 2. Image: Mark Burkey
That's when the fun started...
Everyone agreed that a day off was in order.
This meant Ash heading in a straight line with no wavering for a Mcdonalds.
Rick, Mark and Robbie also headed into Rijeka while Rich and I stayed at home drying out and repairing pretty much everything we own.
The next day we were ready to go again, with Rich and I aiming for one last push at the end of Ash's line.
Robbie helps Chris kit up
The whole thing was made harder by the fact that we now had another 207 metres to cover at around 50m depth. It was going to be a chilly dive.
We arrived at the sump pool in good time and I fitted the assumed faulty MAV (manual addition valve) after a service.
After some fettling it now appeared to be working. It was doing everything it was supposed to in pre-dive checks and giving me all the right numbers. It was good to go.
Robbie helped us kit up an I cannot understate the importance and value of having a diver who knows what they are doing, helping you get ready. Little things like dropping dry gloves into the water would mean dive over. Robbie was superb and a huge asset to the team. Things would definitely have been much harder without him.
Ash followed us down to 38 m depth with a Paralenz camera mounted on a tray with Light Motion video lights. He had been given a crash course in videography which was definitely not his thing, but he filmed us thus far and then handed the camera over to me and I continued filming Rich while Ash returned to base.
Rich and I continued until we met the start of Ash's line.
I was totally relaxed and enjoying myself. The visibility wasn't so great and we were moving a little slower than the pervious year as I didn't want to even get close to raising my breathing rate on the CCR.
I filmed for about 20 minutes, finally dropping the camera as the cave began to undulate significantly.
After what seemed an age, we came to the end of Ash's line and, contrary to what he had told us, the cave looked to trend immediately deeper.
I called Ash lots of things out loud and Rich began laying line while I surveyed behind, declaring we had 5 minutes run time more, regarding bail out strategy.
Rich laid another 36m of new line and the cave started to trend deeper, still ongoing, ending at 42m depth. He cut the line free and we packed up and headed home.
That's when the fun started.
Not long after we had begun to head home, I noticed my oxygen percentage was creeping dangerously high and it seemed to get worse the deeper we went. I repeatedly flushed the loop with 15/55 trimix to bring it down, but this only relieved the issue temporarily.
With only a 3 litre bottle of diluent (more than enough to do this dive several times over) I knew that flushing the loop every minute or so would mean running out of diluent - and I did.
It was inevitable that I would have to bail out.
Bailing out seems to be something that rebreather divers are afraid of and they don't seem to want to do it readily.
I had practised it many times and it was really no great drama.
We had 1.5 times the gas we needed to get home - each - plus bailout decompression gas each - so it was no big deal to simply switch to open circuit and dive home.
To this day I don't understand why CCR divers are so afraid of bailing out and if many had done so sooner, they might still be alive.
Chris carrying a Suex scooter on a KUBI scooter back pack, just before sump 2. Image: Mark Burkey
The biggest problem was the camera and light arms. Every few metres it seemed to snag on something so I threw it at Rich who man handled it home.
I switched the oxygen off to help manage the loop volume and had a swift dive home, switching between bailouts and bailout deco gas and we completed a thankfully short 40 minute decompression.
Ash nonchalantly showed up at 6 metres completely unaware of the situation. How, I don't know, but he also seemed to miss the fact that I was no longer on my rebreather!
Not spotting much amiss he carried on down to 25m as instructed and cleaned up the messy stash of bottles at the bottom of the shaft.
I fiddled about trying to get his underwater ipod to work (I couldn't) and Rich caught up with me at 6 metres.
The cause of the oxygen issue had long been thought to be the MAV (manual addition valve, which injects oxygen into the breathing loop at the press of a button) but on closer inspection and a thorough service, evidence of an oxygen fire in the oxygen regulator is likely to be the culprit, causing the interstage pressure to become very unstable. This meant that too much oxygen was being forced into the loop at depth. A high PO2 (partial pressure of oxygen) is toxic to the human body and can lead to a seizure. Nobody has ever survived a seizure underwater.
The whole unit has been serviced and the offending regulator replaced.
Ash, Robbie, Rich, Christine, Rick, Mark