A photograph trip to Serendipity.
The attrition rate was still high. Three of the four original explorers couldn’t return with one injury or another. Chris was to lead us, Mark to photograph and me and Will along for the ride – and to help carry the kit and pose a bit I suppose.
I mentioned there was an entrance to the Just a Mile passages and locating this had been a priority during the first few days of the expedition. We had employed a local tracker, Jarrah, and by combining our modern GPS locations and traditional knowledge the entrance had finally been located. This had then been used for all the exploration in the higher levels of Cobweb.
The Upper Cobweb entrance - finally found.
Our photographic trip set off from Camp 5 around 8am. Accompanying us was Becka, Loz and Stu who were to look at some side passages off Just a Mile. Camp 5 is on the south side of the Melinau River, Benarat lies on the north so the first part of the walk is the short trek up the gorge to the wire bridge (the one in my video above). It takes sixty-two wobbly steps to cross. I have counted. You do need to grip on tight to the wire handrails but at the same time watch out for the large soldier ants which also use the bridge to cross the river. The large open space of the rarely used helipad follows and then it is into the tunnel of the rainforest canopy for the 4.5km ramble along the Headhunters Trail. This is a motorway of a track which runs parallel to the mountain and eventually leads to the most northern gateway to the National Park after a further 11km.
We arrive at our track mark, a blaze on a tree, which signifies our turn off. It is only 50m more of flat going and then we reach the rugged, steep limestone and it is up, up and up. We ascend a sort of valley, not that you can see much of it. Even on the limestone the forest is thick. Heavens knows how anything grows here, the limestone is bare except a covering of roots, decaying matter, moss and other thin vegetation. Every plant has its niche, from those who race to the light after a tree fall to the fungus which devours the mighty giants. It is the sort of thing to contemplate as we climb up the hill, sweat pouring out with the exertion, but ticking off the landmarks as we go; the small draughting entrance with its cool breeze, the log balancing bridge, the mossy highpoint and the final drop down into the doline and the entrance across the other side. It has taken a speedy two hours and everyone rests to try and cool down.
We all have large transporter sacks. Marks photo gear is split into a pelicase and two darren drums. We have five ropes and SRT kits for the pitches, water bottles, food and only essential other bits and bobs. We discuss where we can fill up with water so we can pace our water consumption. I always carry a one litre Nalgene bottle. Its wide top allows it to be filled quickly from drips and small inlets. We drink water from this type of source unfiltered with no problems, but it is critical to make sure we drink regularly, litres of the stuff. On a long trip you can knock down a litre at every water source, fill another for the journey between, eventually get back to camp, drink more water, several cups of tea and still not manage a piss all night!
We set off into the cave. I have only been here for one trip during the original discoveries in 2000. I’m not going to remember much of it. I do remember, however, one of the first obstacles – a bloody crawl! The large 20x20m passage is blocked by a choke and the only way through is a crawl under the wall on the right hand side. It is bouldery and sharp but the big difference between here and caving at home is that we are nearly naked with just the thinnest of thin garments to try to protect the skin from scratches. With the big bag it is not a speedy manoeuvre nor very pleasant.
Like the surface the terrain underground, in this passage at least, is also fairly inhospitable. It is nearly all up and down over piles of boulders. Rare is anything really easy and we watch our footing at every step. There are traverses and climbdowns, walls of crumbling sediment, even a skylight to pass. There are dry rocks, muddy rocks and downright lethal slippery rocks and it is often hard to distinguish between the types. Every now and again a cry goes out, someone has slipped, but it is ok. We carry on.
There is delay, something is going on behind. Yet another shoulder strap has broken on these bloody awful Petzl Transporter bags. Three will break on this trip alone. It is a glaring design fault but Petzl doesn’t seem to care. The strap is tied up to the waist band and we carry on again. After an hour or so we all fill up at a convenient water stop. An inlet falls from the roof, splashes down onto the sloping wall and disappears into a bedding crack. It re-appears as a spout near floor level. Perfect.
There are two more chokes which involve a bit of a crawl but nothing as bad as the first. Swiftlets, remarkably, fly through these too. Why do they come all this way in when the passages before already offer all the roosting space and protection they might need. They are incredible birds. Imagine being born in a nest high on the wall of a cave, several kilometres from an entrance. They must fledge in pitch blackness, learn to fly and find their way out of the cave to feed. We might have it easy in that respect but flying through these caves would have its advantages. The cave floors in Mulu can be pretty bad, boulder strewn, but the roofs are nearly always the grandest features, beautifully shaped, if only we could be up there too.
Eventually after a couple of hours we come to FFS chamber where the others will leave us. At FFS (For Fucks Sake) it gets bigger and there is a pitch to rig. Stu points out the belay they used. A thread in a large rock embedded in the mud. I rig and drop down the wall. Rope free. The boulder floor soon starts dropping steeply down, the scree at the very limit of its angle of rest. A long way down we come to the final choke, the Arm Stabber. Lots of pointy stal and popcorn everywhere as we thread our way down and through. It is really just the same boulder slope but the roof has come down to practically close up against the scree. It opens out again and here we are at Outrageous Junction where the scale is big again.
FFS - looking back up to the top of the pitch. It is only the start of a huge boulder slope.
We work our way between the house sized rocks and come to a drop. It is a muddy boulder climb. I scrabble down before realising that I am actually carrying a rope for this climb. Oh well! Will is nearly down as Mark starts climbing at the top. He sends a rock down which Will has to catch like a rugby ball coming out of a scrum. It takes both hands, one of which is really needed for holding on. He sort of skis to the floor holding the rock. It is actually quite funny to watch!
The attrition rate was still high. Three of the four original explorers couldn’t return with one injury or another. Chris was to lead us, Mark to photograph and me and Will along for the ride – and to help carry the kit and pose a bit I suppose.
I mentioned there was an entrance to the Just a Mile passages and locating this had been a priority during the first few days of the expedition. We had employed a local tracker, Jarrah, and by combining our modern GPS locations and traditional knowledge the entrance had finally been located. This had then been used for all the exploration in the higher levels of Cobweb.
The Upper Cobweb entrance - finally found.
Our photographic trip set off from Camp 5 around 8am. Accompanying us was Becka, Loz and Stu who were to look at some side passages off Just a Mile. Camp 5 is on the south side of the Melinau River, Benarat lies on the north so the first part of the walk is the short trek up the gorge to the wire bridge (the one in my video above). It takes sixty-two wobbly steps to cross. I have counted. You do need to grip on tight to the wire handrails but at the same time watch out for the large soldier ants which also use the bridge to cross the river. The large open space of the rarely used helipad follows and then it is into the tunnel of the rainforest canopy for the 4.5km ramble along the Headhunters Trail. This is a motorway of a track which runs parallel to the mountain and eventually leads to the most northern gateway to the National Park after a further 11km.
We arrive at our track mark, a blaze on a tree, which signifies our turn off. It is only 50m more of flat going and then we reach the rugged, steep limestone and it is up, up and up. We ascend a sort of valley, not that you can see much of it. Even on the limestone the forest is thick. Heavens knows how anything grows here, the limestone is bare except a covering of roots, decaying matter, moss and other thin vegetation. Every plant has its niche, from those who race to the light after a tree fall to the fungus which devours the mighty giants. It is the sort of thing to contemplate as we climb up the hill, sweat pouring out with the exertion, but ticking off the landmarks as we go; the small draughting entrance with its cool breeze, the log balancing bridge, the mossy highpoint and the final drop down into the doline and the entrance across the other side. It has taken a speedy two hours and everyone rests to try and cool down.
We all have large transporter sacks. Marks photo gear is split into a pelicase and two darren drums. We have five ropes and SRT kits for the pitches, water bottles, food and only essential other bits and bobs. We discuss where we can fill up with water so we can pace our water consumption. I always carry a one litre Nalgene bottle. Its wide top allows it to be filled quickly from drips and small inlets. We drink water from this type of source unfiltered with no problems, but it is critical to make sure we drink regularly, litres of the stuff. On a long trip you can knock down a litre at every water source, fill another for the journey between, eventually get back to camp, drink more water, several cups of tea and still not manage a piss all night!
We set off into the cave. I have only been here for one trip during the original discoveries in 2000. I’m not going to remember much of it. I do remember, however, one of the first obstacles – a bloody crawl! The large 20x20m passage is blocked by a choke and the only way through is a crawl under the wall on the right hand side. It is bouldery and sharp but the big difference between here and caving at home is that we are nearly naked with just the thinnest of thin garments to try to protect the skin from scratches. With the big bag it is not a speedy manoeuvre nor very pleasant.
Like the surface the terrain underground, in this passage at least, is also fairly inhospitable. It is nearly all up and down over piles of boulders. Rare is anything really easy and we watch our footing at every step. There are traverses and climbdowns, walls of crumbling sediment, even a skylight to pass. There are dry rocks, muddy rocks and downright lethal slippery rocks and it is often hard to distinguish between the types. Every now and again a cry goes out, someone has slipped, but it is ok. We carry on.
There is delay, something is going on behind. Yet another shoulder strap has broken on these bloody awful Petzl Transporter bags. Three will break on this trip alone. It is a glaring design fault but Petzl doesn’t seem to care. The strap is tied up to the waist band and we carry on again. After an hour or so we all fill up at a convenient water stop. An inlet falls from the roof, splashes down onto the sloping wall and disappears into a bedding crack. It re-appears as a spout near floor level. Perfect.
There are two more chokes which involve a bit of a crawl but nothing as bad as the first. Swiftlets, remarkably, fly through these too. Why do they come all this way in when the passages before already offer all the roosting space and protection they might need. They are incredible birds. Imagine being born in a nest high on the wall of a cave, several kilometres from an entrance. They must fledge in pitch blackness, learn to fly and find their way out of the cave to feed. We might have it easy in that respect but flying through these caves would have its advantages. The cave floors in Mulu can be pretty bad, boulder strewn, but the roofs are nearly always the grandest features, beautifully shaped, if only we could be up there too.
Eventually after a couple of hours we come to FFS chamber where the others will leave us. At FFS (For Fucks Sake) it gets bigger and there is a pitch to rig. Stu points out the belay they used. A thread in a large rock embedded in the mud. I rig and drop down the wall. Rope free. The boulder floor soon starts dropping steeply down, the scree at the very limit of its angle of rest. A long way down we come to the final choke, the Arm Stabber. Lots of pointy stal and popcorn everywhere as we thread our way down and through. It is really just the same boulder slope but the roof has come down to practically close up against the scree. It opens out again and here we are at Outrageous Junction where the scale is big again.
FFS - looking back up to the top of the pitch. It is only the start of a huge boulder slope.
We work our way between the house sized rocks and come to a drop. It is a muddy boulder climb. I scrabble down before realising that I am actually carrying a rope for this climb. Oh well! Will is nearly down as Mark starts climbing at the top. He sends a rock down which Will has to catch like a rugby ball coming out of a scrum. It takes both hands, one of which is really needed for holding on. He sort of skis to the floor holding the rock. It is actually quite funny to watch!
