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Written by: carl bergmann

Published: 26 November 2022

Hits: 1389

Eyam Dale House Cave

Team: Jon P, Sam P, Chris H, Jim T, Bog.

A Nice pleasant social photo trip ,and a chance for Jim to give us a running commentary as usual.

The barrel entrance is snugger than I remember and was enhanced by Sam P timely piece of advice to grip the correct rope , cheers Sam.

After a bit of a photography time with Jon, we headed straight for the Pearly gates . Global warming has really speeded up the calcification of the gates, as they were two inches narrower than last time I went through them.

The final photo shoot was an opportunity for Jim to proper ramp up the commentary , but thankfully I was sat aloft admiring the view.  We await with bated breath Chris's go pro footage, and hope it includes Jim's exit from the crawl after the  Pearly gates.

A pleasant amble of a short evening trip, followed by a pint in the Mechanics club . 

Bog

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Written by: Fabian Ehlers

Published: 17 November 2022

Hits: 1344

Team: Jon, Jim, Bog and Fabian

Just over a month ago I undertook a solitary caving day entering Snelslow Swallet as well as a Giants Hole Round Trip to place Radon meters on behalf of the DCA as well as PICA. After asking if someone would like to come along when I would collect these meters after a month, I luckily had three willing volunteers… or victims.

We met as usual on a cold breezy evening at the Giants Hole car park, whilst enjoying a lovely cold beer we prepped the kit and put our caving gear on.

The first item tonight was to enter Snelslow Swallet, now the three have never entered this cave before so it was a pleasure showing them this little hidden gem which I would class as a beautiful SRT training ground because you have the facility to rig a couple of pitches in the main chamber including a re-belay or deviation for training.

We opted for a simple deviation and very shortly after found ourselves at the bottom of the Main Chamber. Now although it’s not a particularly deep cave I am always amazed by the geology and sediment layers you are able to see in the Main Chamber. This cave only contained two meters, so we completed this in less than an hour.

A quick re-group at the cars and deposit of ropes Jon and Bog shot off into Giants Hole to start rigging Garland’s Pot. Jim waited for me to catch up and we started heading up hill.

As soon as we reached the entrance we heard the stream being slightly louder than usual, we both knew this was going to be a little more sporty than your usual Giants trip. The more you entered the cave the more you realised this was going to be a lot of fun. The false floors which were usually dry were now completely covered with fast flowing water. The left turn at the first sump which usually is ankle deep was now knee deep.

Walking down the Giants Highway was impressive, the low thundery vibrations became louder and louder the close you got to Base Camp Chamber. On entering you could see the whole floor covered in water which was being forcefully ejected from the upper series creating quite a lot of foam in the process. Following this route past Boss Aven towards Garland’s Pot required careful foot placement as slipping here would have certainly knocked you off your feet and given you a good soaking. Up ahead we noticed two headlight lamps and Jon had rigged Garland’s and was on the way down. Communication proved rather difficult due to the sheer amount of water thundering over the edge. Descending the rope gave us a lovely, good soaking and got the circulation pumping.

Ditching the SRT kit at the bottom of Chert Hall we decided to continue light and enjoy this sure to be wet round trip. Now I appreciate the tedious left and right turns of the crab walk which after the 400 odd meters does start twisting your back. Having knee deep water dragging your feet forwards with strong force added a different feel to this. Any slip into any of the deep pools would cause problematic, as Jim found out. He decided the pick the deepest pool to see how much force the water can apply to your body, let’s say it was a lot!

If the water wasn’t enough of an added obstacle the upcoming “vice” certainly was. A couple of years ago I was able to squeeze my way through but since a two-year Pandemic and lack of fitness I need to take the wet route through the bottom to pass this obstacle. I was glad to see that this applied to the others as well, so we all got a good dunk through this duck followed by a slip and slide down razor edge cascade and another shower down comic act cascade.

The guys had a quite interesting ascend up the Eating House climb with me assisting from the bottom placing feet into foot loops. Only when it was my turn could I appreciate the added difficulty of not being able to see your feet whilst the waterfall is giving your privates a non-consensual pounding. Holding for a few moments to grab the obligatory “mid-climb shot” I was able to collect my first meter at the top of the hand line.

The way onwards through Maggin’s Rift and through the North East Swallet was pretty uneventful. The next meter was quickly located at the junction with the poached egg passage with us joking if we should just continue into Oxlow via the Chamber of Horrors. It surely couldn’t get much worse? 

Well, then there’s the Giants Windpipe… The warning of it being a 20ft long dive if sumped always makes you worry if you have to turn around and retrace your steps. Jon offered to reccy and after a few moments we followed and heard a reliving “there’s around 5 inches of air space” if you could class this as relief. Jon and myself opted to tackle this section on our back whilst trying to not to have a couple of sips of “Giants water” resembling the result of a tasty Indian meal. Jim and Bog decided to take this on their front which yes… worked somehow.

For the return way Jim and myself continued the high travers for as long as possible whilst Jon and Bog climbed down just before the calcite window and continue at stream level. After another 50m we saw their lights below and we joined for the remainder of the streamway.
Ascending a wet Garland’s would have one bonus, the mud from all the crawling and climbing was going to be washed off. It also went into every little hole in your caving suit soaking you one last time.

The way out was once again uneventful with Jon and Jim heading off to get the van heated, Bog de-rigging and me following behind.

Cold beers were enjoyed in the comfort of Jim’s van were we regained feeling in our hands and feet and stopped looking like a pair of Parkinson’s patients who have missed their evening medication.

The Giants Hole Round Trip is a great Derbyshire must do! But if this would be your first time I’d recommend a calmer, drier trip. But then again hearing the thundering water of Base Camp Chamber and Garland’s Pot is something NOT to be missed!

Fabian

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Written by: Jim Thompson

Published: 10 November 2022

Hits: 1302

CDG Qualified Diver:  Rob M

CDG Handbook Owner Diver: Jim T

I uncoiled the rope and continued until I was just above a big, stunningly clear and blue sump pool.  Little blobs of mud fell into the water creating small clouds that scattered my lamp beam, so I had a good look around on full power and was pretty sure that I could see a floor maybe ten feet subsurface. Short of dropping off the rope and going for a swim there was nothing left to do but get into ascent mode and rejoin the others. 

I’d been disappointed that going for a swim in a beautifully clear sump pool wasn’t really an option on my first visit to Glorious Hole, intrigued to know what was really beyond the suggestion of a way on, and being involved in the subsequent discovery dives had piqued a long-suppressed interest in the pursuit of cave diving. The itch that never really got scratched, but merely ignored, as impending parenthood, and other such life responsibilities beginning to share focus with caving in general, placed the oft-repeated stigma of certain death in the category of ‘probably better avoided’.

Following the second push into the GH sump, where I’d been gripped with the excitement of diving taking place and quite disappointed that whatever lay beyond that water surface would remain a mystery, I tentatively broached the subject with Rob by way of a ‘shame it’s not like open water diving where I could go and try it in a swimming pool’ comment. Rather than simply agree with me , to my surprise he was open to further discussion. I told him I just really wanted to have a go; see what it was all about; know for myself if it was something to hate, fear and therefore remain forever taboo; or would I be able to handle it? Either way if it were ever possible it’d be a significant life experience and I’d extract whatever benefit I could. We parted ways for the evening with a loosely non-committal ‘let’s catch up after the summer holidays’.

Fast forward to October, summer fading fast. I was almost content to let my foolhardy keen-ness become a memory, but Rob is in touch with a date and I immediately say I’ll be there. It’s easy to commit to things that are in the distant future, in the pleasant light of a balmy summer evening. November arrives it’s dark by 1600, getting decidedly cold and for me at least beginning to feel like bedtime as soon as work finishes. I may have been ursine in a previous incarnation as I’d quite happily hibernate until April…  Nevertheless, this feels like a precious and rare opportunity so I get my kit together, glad I’d invested in a thick wetsuit; less glad that my gloves are the thin and stitched-through variety, and the hood I have for the odd duck feels paper thin and crucially isn’t connected to my wetsuit. I can feel the cold water rushing down my back and wish I had a better option.

On a beautifully clear evening I drove out to the location, the van chiming a 4 degree C warning just to help me remember I was about to at least attempt to get fully submerged in water that wouldn’t be much warmer, and hopefully stay in it for a reasonable amount of time. I felt nervous the whole way, but on meeting with Rob his confidence and apparent nonchalance about the whole affair put me at ease.

To my delight he’d also brought a bag full of neoprene of the sort more suited to diving, and even better, I was able to fit into a nice 5mm jacket complete with attached hood, super thick diving hood and some gloves that made up in thickness what they removed in dexterity. The game was on.

Rob explained the plan and showed me the survey; we’d be practising drills in an open pool until I was happy, then following the line as far as I felt comfortable with, or until we reached a surface. I'd done some open water dives in the past so was happy I knew what was involved in the drills and wouldn't be learning all this for the first time.

We then went through the process of dressing me as a cave diver – ensuring that I had two means by which to cut line, pegs to mark the way out at any line junctions (and critically was able to reach these with either hand) understood how to read my compass to find the bearing for ‘home’. I also wore a dive computer which although given the profile of the dive wouldn’t be a necessity, was part of the setup and anyway, I might like to see my depth at some point.

Next came the horrendous and somewhat amusing task of attaching 7l cylinders to the sidemount harness I had on. They’re fairly heavy and unwieldy beasts and trying to hold them up with one hand and locate a D ring behind my back and clip an open krab to it was awful. I was keen to do everything unaided because I’d seen Rob do it with such ease and knew that independence is an essential attribute but I had to give in. Rob clipped me in and I managed to get the bungee round the pillar at the front and clipped on. I got the regulators clipped onto an elastic necklace and made sure I could find them and get them into my mouth which took a bit of harness adjustment, ensured I could reach the cylinder valves with both hands, and we moved on to the gauges and calculation of thirds. The gauges, having been used for cave diving, were not exactly flawlessly polished and were in fact more akin to looking through a bathroom window. Coupled with my worsening reading eyesight, a mask, and a weird angle of view, I could see the sum total of fuck all. I could make out the needles though, and the relative divisions on the gauge, so a quick bit of mental arithmetic, taking off 10 from the starting pressure to account for the last bit of unbreathable gas, I could determine where the needle would be once a third of the air was consumed. That would then leave another third for the return trip, and a third in reserve just in case. We then discussed the process of ‘jumping’ between any broken sections of line, navigating junctions, finding the way out, how and when to swap regs, mask clearing, ear clearing, how to follow, but not pull on, the line and never to lose it - loads of information I’d certainly read about, but never practised. It all felt like quite a mental load but I made sure I took notice and went through everything in my head - I felt incredibly reassured that I’d be there with Rob who told me I had loads of air and things would be straightforward underwater. He’d be watching me closely the entire time but I knew I couldn’t just blithely disregard my own responsibilities and expect him to just immediately transport me to air, or make me breathe water if anything happened. I was here of my own accord and although I was placing trust in Rob, he’d have to trust me try to be competent and not do anything stupid.

Everything set, we headed into the adit carrying fins and in a couple of minutes reached the open water pool. I was in control, I could turn around at any point if I felt like not proceeding, and this entire time I’d been aware that I was still nervous and the lure of a warm pub did cross my mind, but I was still fine, not even wet yet so had no reason not to proceed. First job was to fully open my cylinders and ensure I could breathe through both regs, followed my sticking my head in the water whilst still standing to ensure they worked underwater and my mask remained sealed… All fine, although the water at this stage was painfully cold on my exposed face!

I was wearing a couple of lead blocks at this stage and needed to ensure I wasn’t too buoyant, so I would sink to the bottom of the pool to get comfortable in the water, make sure I could clear my mask in case of flooding, get my ears clear and practise swapping regs without choking on water. It was hard to sink, so we added a couple more blocks of lead. That ensured I could sit on the bottom and just do some breathing. I was still getting orientated so flailed around a bit at first, but managed to do everything without too much fuss and soon felt quite comfortable and began to enjoy a sense of elation at being under water, yet breathing, and totally fine with it.

With that we headed back to the shore and pulled on fins, Rob told me to follow the line, and see how I got on. I headed down and began kicking my legs and travelling along the line. I felt a tug on my fin so turned round and followed Rob back to surface… ‘just take it slowly, no rush!’ and as I descended again, I realised I’d been powering along like it was a race. This time I swam along gently, although I was a bit heavy so had to keep myself off the bottom at times. The water was crystal clear, and I realised I felt absolutely calm, warm, and really enjoyed just being underwater in a blue glow, marvelling at a pin sharp thin line of silt hovering at eye level. I ensured I swapped regs early on so it became a regular habit, and realised I needed to clear my ears when I felt myself going deeper. Waiting for the pressure to build was painful and made it harder to do, I was surprised at the amount of pressure I had to generate and gripping my tiny nose through a mask and gloves was hard, but the satisfying crackling and bubbling sound in my ear canal soon came and I had one less task to concentrate on.

I made sure I observed everything, knots, markers and belays on the line, pipes, walls, wooden stemples in the water and apparent deviations from the course we were on. I almost forgot Rob was there just behind me but I saw the reassuring sweep of his lights through the water often enough. I took time to view my compass and computer along the way and did my best to look at my gauges, which was a good exercise as I could quite easily have become absorbed on just the swim. I was loving it, utterly calm, in no discomfort whatsoever, and somewhat in awe of myself and the fact that I was here, I was diving in a mine and it’s amazing and bloody hell everything looks stunning and I never thought I’d get a chance to do this. I was really taken by the fact that, through the prism of water and refracted LED light, the mine did look beautiful. I suspected it’d just be another dark, muddy shithole had it been dry. It’s really hard to grin from ear to ear with a regulator in your mouth, but I think I was.

I’d passed the 100m marker a way back, and eventually came upon a restriction – insofar as the passage had been massive and wide open until this point, whereas here I had to at least make a cursory effort to pass between boulder and roof / walls. I was just through it when I felt a hard tug on my fin. Assuming that this was the end I turned around and looked at Rob. It was really odd as I was fully expecting him to just start talking to me and I wanted to talk to him but of course the only language for a submerged diver is sign language and I wasn’t really fluent. I just followed him and was surprised to reach an air surface where we both popped up. I spat out my regulator and, pulled by the lead, immediately sank back underwater trying to speak, swallowing a massive gulp of water as I did. I managed to grab something and find a place for my feet and felt like a lumbering mess trying to coordinate myself in air again. Rob hadn’t pulled my fin and thought I’d had enough – it must have been stuck in the ‘squeeze’ - he explained that there was an air surface from here onwards and we were nearly at the end; so I elected to turn around and head for home. I was quite pleased when he told me my cylinder contents were OK and well balanced, so even though I’d just been swapping regs when I though to do it, I’d done OK.

The way home was even nicer, totally relaxed and even more so as I returned to points on the line I’d noted on the way in. I spent time slowing right down and looking around and didn’t want this to end. However, after no time at all it seemed, the line began to rise and I was back in the open water pool. I stumbled around, now unsupported by water and neoprene, and got my fins off to ease the transition back to terrestrial movement. A quick stop for a photo and it was time to go.

Whilst I hadn’t really noticed the weight of my cylinders pre-dive, they seemed to have doubled in weight in spite of containing less air than before. Rob shot off in front of me and I trudged to keep up, hips burning under my burden.

A chilly de-kit ensued and by the time I was dressed and ready, I couldn’t feel my feet. We agreed to head to the pub for a chat and debrief and although it is close, the choice wasn’t exactly a caver’s pub. The well-heeled and glamorous were enjoying meals in intimate candlelight and I elected not to even bother asking for pork scratchings.

After some discussion of the possible next steps, I reluctantly agreed that, although at this point it was all I wanted to do, time commitments and those required of others in support of a trainee diver are not something I can possibly consider at the present moment, but I foresee that itch – now scratched, will return and require more than a little tickle….

With HUGE thanks to Rob for his kindness, patience and taking the time to allow me such an amazing opportunity.