Clive G
Member
This debate seems to have been well worked through and I didn't see the item concerned because I watch DVD movies and internet material at present rather than TV, but I've picked up on it since the latest issue of Descent (247) dropped through my letter box: 'Britain's BIG misadventure'.
I reckon that there are a handful of caves in the UK where those who cave in them regularly are up to SAS physical standards (apart from the absence of 'licence to kill'), but Long Churn Cave, unfortunately, is not one of these caves.
Once I took some relative novices (fully attired with proper caving gear and lamps) into Ogof Craig a Ffynnon and, actually, if you're not too fussy about it, provided people have the mental stamina and drive, coupled with agility and physical fitness, then it's amazing what they can achieve underground. The usual tourist trip in the cave is to the Hall of the Mountain Kings, which is where a team of us once took the Woman's Hour producer, presenter and secretary for a sound-recorded excursion that actually made it into the finished programme, including a mud fight on the way (oops, sorry, JP), but since this is a bit tame and the two were quite up for more caving, we went on to look at and take photographs of the helictites beyond the Fourth Boulder Choke . . .
However, not far from the furthest point in, one guy lost it a bit when he ate an entire packet of Rowntree's fruit pastilles, that was supposed to last us all for the trip, in a single sitting. But, the real fun started when we got back to the junction with Northwest Inlet Passage, where the cave had decided to be in flood whilst we were inside. So, what had been a normal amount of water on the way in was now chest to neck deep. Well, I managed to guide these 'novices' out as if it was just a bit wetter than usual, but whilst I was gearing up for the crawl through Gasoline Alley (before it sumped closed), with not too much airspace being available, the most capable (and shortest) of the two guys announced that having tucked his camera (in a polythene bag) into his oversuit it appeared to have disappeared in the deep-water pool . . . Well, it had indeed 'floated away', we had a brief look (the cave was appearing like it might be about to flood closed any minute), but - with the mud-brown colour of the water - no chance!
So, we crawled out reasonably smartly through the wet tunnel of Gasoline Alley and, once safely on the far side, I announced how lucky we were to have avoided being trapped inside the cave! Now, in spite of the Woman's Hour trip in the same cave, I have never once thought how you'd turn such an experience into a 'television special', because these sort of incidents are not planned, happen unexpectedly and you simply deal with them when they blow up out of all anticipation, put the events behind you and try and not get into the same situation again.
The last thing you want to do is show people on television tackling wet caves in the knowledge that it has been raining continuously before they go down, apparently breaking all the rules of safe caving practice and not even wearing proper clothing or using the appropriate equipment. Even with a 'disclaimer' there are going to be those who are inspired to emulate the activities of someone they regard as a 'hero'.
But, I will say, that some cavers do cave on occasion without a helmet. I once met Bob Lewis in the Daren Cilau Entrance Series, with a youth, and neither were wearing helmets. Their 'torch', I seem to recall, was a lit candle that Bob was holding out in front of him, as he led the way. The fact that I was on my way out and they were just going in also speaks volumes, I think. I won't be too critical here because there were no repercussions afterwards and the two carried out their trip without any untoward experiences being reported and that was their choice on that particular day, minding their own business. It was simply, Bob being Bob and if I hadn't of been in the right (or wrong) place at the right (or wrong) time then I'd never have known otherwise.
The only time I take my helmet off underground is when I'm at and around an underground camp and then wear a Balaclava instead, to help keep warm and comfortable. Otherwise, it's only when I'm pushing a passage that is so tight you can't turn your head sideways and make progress without taking your helmet off, that I then relent and take my helmet off - pulling it along or pushing it ahead in front of me as I go, but in no danger from a sudden bump because there is no element of speed caving involved!
So, what happened to the chap's camera in OCAF? Well, about a week or two later, when the water had subsided, someone else found it lying in a pool of water in the floor in the cave! He said it was all rusted up and useless, so not worth returning. However, I asked him to remove the film in the dark and let me have the cassette back, which he did. The film was then processed as normal and the slides actually came out a treat, albeit with an interesting 'grained' texture formed by a myriad of black pinhead dots, that you don't normally get during cave photography! The owner of the camera and film was most pleased not to have lost his pictures!
From the number of times I've clunked my helmet unexpectedly on a rock projection underground (usually in a Welsh cave), I actually love wearing a good caving helmet with a decent cradle and chin strap and would feel undressed without one. People also tend to kick or dislodge small (and not so small) pebbles off ledges and the clunk when they simply bounce off your helmet is most satisfying - opposed to a cracked skull and blood everywhere. It's only non-cavers (and the late Bob Lewis!), really, who hate the idea of putting on a helmet. John Glen, the most prolific of James Bond film directors (he directed five in a row), who was also reponsible as the 2nd Unit Director for the mountain action sequences in On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969) and the skiing off a mountain (for real) and parachuting back to ground sequence in The Spy Who Loved Me (1977), writes in his autobiography, For My Eyes Only, Cambridge: Signum Books, 2015, of the importance of wearing helmets underground! The film was A View to a Kill (1985):
The point I'd most like to make here is that people do do unusual things when caving and try to extend the limits of what is considered 'possible', but putting what is generally appeciated to be bad practice up in lights on prime-time TV is sensationalist to the point of encouraging young people to do dangerous things dangerously - rather than safely.
I reckon that there are a handful of caves in the UK where those who cave in them regularly are up to SAS physical standards (apart from the absence of 'licence to kill'), but Long Churn Cave, unfortunately, is not one of these caves.
Once I took some relative novices (fully attired with proper caving gear and lamps) into Ogof Craig a Ffynnon and, actually, if you're not too fussy about it, provided people have the mental stamina and drive, coupled with agility and physical fitness, then it's amazing what they can achieve underground. The usual tourist trip in the cave is to the Hall of the Mountain Kings, which is where a team of us once took the Woman's Hour producer, presenter and secretary for a sound-recorded excursion that actually made it into the finished programme, including a mud fight on the way (oops, sorry, JP), but since this is a bit tame and the two were quite up for more caving, we went on to look at and take photographs of the helictites beyond the Fourth Boulder Choke . . .
However, not far from the furthest point in, one guy lost it a bit when he ate an entire packet of Rowntree's fruit pastilles, that was supposed to last us all for the trip, in a single sitting. But, the real fun started when we got back to the junction with Northwest Inlet Passage, where the cave had decided to be in flood whilst we were inside. So, what had been a normal amount of water on the way in was now chest to neck deep. Well, I managed to guide these 'novices' out as if it was just a bit wetter than usual, but whilst I was gearing up for the crawl through Gasoline Alley (before it sumped closed), with not too much airspace being available, the most capable (and shortest) of the two guys announced that having tucked his camera (in a polythene bag) into his oversuit it appeared to have disappeared in the deep-water pool . . . Well, it had indeed 'floated away', we had a brief look (the cave was appearing like it might be about to flood closed any minute), but - with the mud-brown colour of the water - no chance!
So, we crawled out reasonably smartly through the wet tunnel of Gasoline Alley and, once safely on the far side, I announced how lucky we were to have avoided being trapped inside the cave! Now, in spite of the Woman's Hour trip in the same cave, I have never once thought how you'd turn such an experience into a 'television special', because these sort of incidents are not planned, happen unexpectedly and you simply deal with them when they blow up out of all anticipation, put the events behind you and try and not get into the same situation again.
The last thing you want to do is show people on television tackling wet caves in the knowledge that it has been raining continuously before they go down, apparently breaking all the rules of safe caving practice and not even wearing proper clothing or using the appropriate equipment. Even with a 'disclaimer' there are going to be those who are inspired to emulate the activities of someone they regard as a 'hero'.
But, I will say, that some cavers do cave on occasion without a helmet. I once met Bob Lewis in the Daren Cilau Entrance Series, with a youth, and neither were wearing helmets. Their 'torch', I seem to recall, was a lit candle that Bob was holding out in front of him, as he led the way. The fact that I was on my way out and they were just going in also speaks volumes, I think. I won't be too critical here because there were no repercussions afterwards and the two carried out their trip without any untoward experiences being reported and that was their choice on that particular day, minding their own business. It was simply, Bob being Bob and if I hadn't of been in the right (or wrong) place at the right (or wrong) time then I'd never have known otherwise.
The only time I take my helmet off underground is when I'm at and around an underground camp and then wear a Balaclava instead, to help keep warm and comfortable. Otherwise, it's only when I'm pushing a passage that is so tight you can't turn your head sideways and make progress without taking your helmet off, that I then relent and take my helmet off - pulling it along or pushing it ahead in front of me as I go, but in no danger from a sudden bump because there is no element of speed caving involved!
So, what happened to the chap's camera in OCAF? Well, about a week or two later, when the water had subsided, someone else found it lying in a pool of water in the floor in the cave! He said it was all rusted up and useless, so not worth returning. However, I asked him to remove the film in the dark and let me have the cassette back, which he did. The film was then processed as normal and the slides actually came out a treat, albeit with an interesting 'grained' texture formed by a myriad of black pinhead dots, that you don't normally get during cave photography! The owner of the camera and film was most pleased not to have lost his pictures!
From the number of times I've clunked my helmet unexpectedly on a rock projection underground (usually in a Welsh cave), I actually love wearing a good caving helmet with a decent cradle and chin strap and would feel undressed without one. People also tend to kick or dislodge small (and not so small) pebbles off ledges and the clunk when they simply bounce off your helmet is most satisfying - opposed to a cracked skull and blood everywhere. It's only non-cavers (and the late Bob Lewis!), really, who hate the idea of putting on a helmet. John Glen, the most prolific of James Bond film directors (he directed five in a row), who was also reponsible as the 2nd Unit Director for the mountain action sequences in On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969) and the skiing off a mountain (for real) and parachuting back to ground sequence in The Spy Who Loved Me (1977), writes in his autobiography, For My Eyes Only, Cambridge: Signum Books, 2015, of the importance of wearing helmets underground! The film was A View to a Kill (1985):
The point I'd most like to make here is that people do do unusual things when caving and try to extend the limits of what is considered 'possible', but putting what is generally appeciated to be bad practice up in lights on prime-time TV is sensationalist to the point of encouraging young people to do dangerous things dangerously - rather than safely.
