cap n chris
Well-known member
Cheddar CC "Tigers" trip to Otter Hole
Andy Sparrow, Glynn Rowland, Andy Hebden, Chris Binding. Trip Leader: John Elliott
12th May 2005
Otter hole holds a high status amid the caves of Britain and Ireland as perhaps the cave with the best formations found so far. The rightly famous and breathtaking "Hall of the Thirty" derived its name from a mixture of the Gouffre Berger's "Hall of the Thirteen" and the fact that the Hall of the Thirty had over thirty huge stalagmites in it - it was thus dubbed HOTT by its discoverers back in the mid 1970s. This trip intended to make the Hall of the Thirty its main objective as the further reaches of the 3.35km long cave system would require a trip in excess of 7 hours duration since the chief "obstacle" in Otter Hole is its tidal sump, locking groups in while the tide is at its peak. Described in The Caves of South Wales as "one of the most serious undertakings in the country... should only be attempted by experienced cavers" and ranked as grade 5 this trip was a slightly daunting prospect despite everyone on the trip being experienced and in some cases, highly experienced.
Given the reputation of the trip and the various descriptions available of club trips posted on the internet, it seemed wise to get some advice - no-one in our group had ever been to Otter Hole before and so we were all virgins, equally "in the dark" about what to expect other than the handful of "descriptive" sentences in various guidebooks. So, on the evening before the trip I telephoned the main contact and had a pleasant chat, the outcome of which was "don't take a bag with you since it will make your trip highly arduous" - so, for once, this was going to be a club trip where I left my camera behind, despite the promise of fabulous formations well worthy of photographing. I had previously seen the video of Otter Hole which left me with the solemn belief that I probably wouldn't attempt a trip there due to the appearance of the squeezes and yet, and yet... here it was, a day away!
So, the evening before the event the timings were sorted out based upon the tide times - we would leave Cheddar at 11:00am to rendezvous with John Elliott at the riverside car park at 12:15pm. This would allow us half an hour to kit up, half an hour to walk to the entrance and plenty of time to reach the sump before the tide dropped and it became open at a predicted time of 1:50pm. After a kit-debate, we all decided to wear fleece suits rather than opt for the endurance and difficulties of wearing wetsuits. One small kit bag was stuffed with first aid kit, spare light, chocolate supplies and lucozade etc. and shared (mostly equally) among the team. The weather was proving to be superb and all was well and pleasant - although there was an obvious sense of apprehension among the team... none of us were oblivious to the undertaking before us.
The walk down the steep and long river embankment got us all hot and well exercised as we wound our way through what could almost pass as "primary rainforest", had we been in (a) a primary rainforest and (b) a country where primary rainforests exist; it was all very atmospheric until we reached journey's end and saw the small rockface, no more than perhaps 8 metres high with a half elipse cave entrance at the base. John explained some of the background to the cave's discovery as we made our final preparations to our kit, donning our gloves and checking our lights etc.. We were advised to put our oversuit zips where we'd like them to remain for the rest of the day since once they become engrained with mud they cannot be moved again! - also we were advised to be wary of getting mud in our eyes - this would be a disaster, said John. Oh, yeah! - John's last trip here was during the major rescue ages ago! - apparently most cavers only visit Otter Hole once; this was not really welcome to hear just before embarking on an underground marathon.
The small square heavy duty gate was duly opened and we filed in; it was 1:23pm. I placed my 2 litres of water and keys on a rock shelf just inside the entrance and followed John through the first flat out bedding plane to the drop down into a spiral of crawls past the Otter's Nest and along a further crawl; an upside down T-shaped squeeze had me take a couple of goes since it was on my limit of thinness (!) and I managed to scrunch my body through it with some extra vigour. A short drop down a triangular topped slot sees more wriggling through ever-worsening mud and a sequence of muddy obstacles, crawls and minor climbs. The passage enlarges, mercifully, until we can stand up and have a breather. John said that since we had plenty of time to get to the tidal sump we could afford to take our time otherwise we'd be waiting unnecessarily when we got there. So we took various routes, depending on whether we preferred the "high road" or the "low road" through a very muddy collection of large boulders and some mud-coated formations; all of this section of the cave floods to the roof in high water conditions and route finding is not aided by the usual "pathway" since the mud refreshes itself every day and obliterates any signs of a route ahead.
Soon we reach the tidal sump and squelch down in the knee deep thixotropic sludge while listening to the eerie weirdness of the noises of the groaning cave as the sump displaces air while it opens. We wait for perhaps ten minutes and then I have a look at the gap; going in up to about shoulder depth I can see my way through but the water is goddam cold and it would require holding my breath and ducking through with my helmet off - I decide to go back and wait for a few more minutes before actually taking up the challenge and pressing ahead. Although quite narrow and requiring one to remove one's helmet, it is very simple... but cold... quickly through, one climbs up a small ladder on the right and makes cautious progress up the side of some large wedged muddy boulders before climbing back down and approaching a 5m fixed steel ladder (but very narrow!). A simple climb up leads one into the next main part of our journey. It was around 2pm when we made our way through the tidal sump. From here we had to negotiate an array of obstacles which mostly comprised boulder hopping, climbing, wading through streamways, a pleasant traverse (I never thought I'd write that about traverses!) and some vicious squeezes, awkward moves, thrutching and more - all requiring utmost concentration constantly in order to avoid a minor slip becoming a major rescue. Rescue from this cave would be an awesome prospect and, in certain instances, probably completely impossible. The well publicised last rescue involved over 100 rescuers and the female casualty still needed to get off the stretcher to make her final exit after (I think) two days underground - and having met her I know she's a small, thin person.
By the time we reached the climb up away from the streamway, ready to begin our ascent towards the Hall of the Thirty, we were all happy to have a breather and take on some refreshment. Andy Sparrow let his Snickers bar slip between two boulders which we eventually moved apart only for it to fall underneath an even larger one. Oops!
Refreshed, we begin the hardest part of the journey for large people - an uphill sequence of tubular squeezes, crawls, thrutching and some downward obstacles of a similar nature before the boulder ruckle where Laura had her accident, followed by the 2.4m "slippery climb" which was easier done than expected, given some excellent hand holds, then a nasty S-bend tube which made all my vertebrae crack as I forced my body through using my legs as raw power. Hmmm...
This quickly opens into a flat-roofed gallery and the beginning of the pretty stuff.
Andy Sparrow had managed to get ahead of the group and was enjoying the delights around each corner ahead of the rest of us as well all singly made our way following the taped off pathway towards increasingly more stunning formations with each footstep. We get to a major corner and witness a huge column, guessed at being around 8m high and perhaps an equal dimension measured around the massive boss at its base, with pristine perfect curtains of similar proportions festooning the ceiling and inlet avens. Profusions of delicate straws added to the visual feast surrounding us as we made our way towards the famous Hall of the Thirty...
The Hall of the Thirty is on a gentle slope and the path winds around to follow the left hand "wall" passing huge stalagmites which tower much higher than anyone in our group, the tallest being guessed at being around 4 metres high... or possibly more?; there appear to be a countless number of these massive formations, representing a "forest" which is apt considering the walk to the cave entrance and the Forest of Dean Cavers who found this magnificent place. No doubt each of us was taking in the sights before us and coming up with their own descriptions!
At the top of the path we sit and admire our surroundings before John looks at his watch and declares that we have enough time to go further still. Onward past a huge curtain and stalflow section and towards a polluted area where the stal has been stained black; we are warned to avoid getting fluid from the black pools onto our gloves as they were tested and found to have high concentrations of arsenic in them. Point taken. Making good progress among these fine formations requires awareness and caution so as not to transfer any mud from our warmbacs or gloves onto the calcite surfaces - one section has a traverse line installed specifically for this purpose which works well. Then the character of the passage changes again and we are into a lower roofed square section with a taped pathway on either side of which are more profusions of straws; ahead we find the overnight camp - one of the few flat floored sections of the cave. We regroup and John leads us up a boulder slope into a high aven with water splashing down into an assortment of cups and containers - once upon a time this was used for refreshment but recent testing alerted cavers that this water was polluted with sewerage and possibly was the source of the "mystery illness" which used to befall cavers to Otter Hole.
John explained that this watery part of the cave is "about half way"; it is now 4:27pm - we have been caving for just over 3 hours which is exceptionally good progress as it means we can reasonably expect to regain the surface before 8pm (way ahead of our contingency time schedule). Despite having time in hand the group decided that this would be our turning point nonetheless. I headed on back, "almost solo" and made my quiet way through the passageway and following the path, enjoying the sense of awe in the HOTT being surrounded by these immovable mute "creatures" with their shadows glancing across far walls and shafts of calcite hanging from the ceiling creating a wonderful 3D effect. Don't forget the stunning perfection of the masses of curtains!
Steady but good progress continued all the way back to the refreshment stop where our bag had been left alongside John's small kit bag - it took us 40 minutes to all regroup there and I shan't be describing the route, needless to say it did involve those committing squeezes but these were easier on the way down as breathing out and allowing gravity to assist made things better. The "exposed climb" was a synch too by traversing around the top towards the right hand wall and then gaining a second ledge and going over to the vertical "tube" on the left which slides down to the base, bypassing the overhanging climb. Once we were all back at the streamway to collect the bags, we finished off our supplies and made progress back down the streamway, variously engaged in boulder hopping, clambering, thrutching, squeezing and the rather jolly traverse which, being no more than 3m deep, posed no nightmares for the traverse-wary.
The fixed ladder led us straight back into the world of sludge-mud and quickly through the generously opened tidal sump without needing to remove our helmets and up the horrendously claggy mud slope beyond, using the small diameter polypropylene guideline as genuinely necessary assistance on this difficult and squelchy section, made harder by me being nominated as the official bag carrier for the final leg of the journey. There remained 1,000 feet of passage to daylight, all sapping our remaining energy as sliding, walking and cautious progress was hampered by the slippery and hindering nature of the surfaces. No vestige of our pathway was obvious when we reached the boulder choke so the group split with myself and the two Andys perhaps finding a hard way through requiring some assistance and spotting to clamber among the large blocks. We regroup at the fossil passage junction, knowing there's probably only about 100 foot of passage left and then my battery runs out. Darn! - not a problem since I have a spare with me but it was a fumble trying to remove the flat one and replace it while coated in this slick sticky mud. I followed John out since the others had already made their way towards the Otter nest and the sequence of squeezes. John went head first down a tube which I thought better of - which necessitated doing a sideways somersault once I had managed to find, on my third attempt, an area sufficiently large to enable me to do so. Going down feet first then required a similar manoeuvre so that I could then see where I was going for the final leg over the triangular slot and the tightest squeeze of the trip through the inverted T section with just the flat out bedding slab reflecting daylight from the entrance. Pop! - we were all out. I grabbed my 2 litre bottle of water and keys before slamming the heavy door shut and greeting a pleasantly cool Spring evening. It was 6:45pm. We had only been underground for about five and a half hours and achieved all we set out to do! The return journey from our furthest point had therefore only required about two and a half hours to achieve.
Mind you, judging by the silence among us on the labourious seemingly never-ending hike back through the ever steepening wood, negotiating numerous fallen trees and pokey-eye stuff, we had all used up a lot of energy and now felt the fatigue beginning to steal over us.
We eventually regained the car park and found all our vehicles intact and dekitted our heavy burdens. Our faces were mostly obliterated of recognisable features by the coating of dried up mud making us look far from our usual debonaire and handsome best.
So, thanks to John Elliott for taking time out to lead us into this amazing system. The apprehension of the previously unknown cave was now dispelled - perhaps another trip sometime with cameras?
Andy Sparrow, Glynn Rowland, Andy Hebden, Chris Binding. Trip Leader: John Elliott
12th May 2005
Otter hole holds a high status amid the caves of Britain and Ireland as perhaps the cave with the best formations found so far. The rightly famous and breathtaking "Hall of the Thirty" derived its name from a mixture of the Gouffre Berger's "Hall of the Thirteen" and the fact that the Hall of the Thirty had over thirty huge stalagmites in it - it was thus dubbed HOTT by its discoverers back in the mid 1970s. This trip intended to make the Hall of the Thirty its main objective as the further reaches of the 3.35km long cave system would require a trip in excess of 7 hours duration since the chief "obstacle" in Otter Hole is its tidal sump, locking groups in while the tide is at its peak. Described in The Caves of South Wales as "one of the most serious undertakings in the country... should only be attempted by experienced cavers" and ranked as grade 5 this trip was a slightly daunting prospect despite everyone on the trip being experienced and in some cases, highly experienced.
Given the reputation of the trip and the various descriptions available of club trips posted on the internet, it seemed wise to get some advice - no-one in our group had ever been to Otter Hole before and so we were all virgins, equally "in the dark" about what to expect other than the handful of "descriptive" sentences in various guidebooks. So, on the evening before the trip I telephoned the main contact and had a pleasant chat, the outcome of which was "don't take a bag with you since it will make your trip highly arduous" - so, for once, this was going to be a club trip where I left my camera behind, despite the promise of fabulous formations well worthy of photographing. I had previously seen the video of Otter Hole which left me with the solemn belief that I probably wouldn't attempt a trip there due to the appearance of the squeezes and yet, and yet... here it was, a day away!
So, the evening before the event the timings were sorted out based upon the tide times - we would leave Cheddar at 11:00am to rendezvous with John Elliott at the riverside car park at 12:15pm. This would allow us half an hour to kit up, half an hour to walk to the entrance and plenty of time to reach the sump before the tide dropped and it became open at a predicted time of 1:50pm. After a kit-debate, we all decided to wear fleece suits rather than opt for the endurance and difficulties of wearing wetsuits. One small kit bag was stuffed with first aid kit, spare light, chocolate supplies and lucozade etc. and shared (mostly equally) among the team. The weather was proving to be superb and all was well and pleasant - although there was an obvious sense of apprehension among the team... none of us were oblivious to the undertaking before us.
The walk down the steep and long river embankment got us all hot and well exercised as we wound our way through what could almost pass as "primary rainforest", had we been in (a) a primary rainforest and (b) a country where primary rainforests exist; it was all very atmospheric until we reached journey's end and saw the small rockface, no more than perhaps 8 metres high with a half elipse cave entrance at the base. John explained some of the background to the cave's discovery as we made our final preparations to our kit, donning our gloves and checking our lights etc.. We were advised to put our oversuit zips where we'd like them to remain for the rest of the day since once they become engrained with mud they cannot be moved again! - also we were advised to be wary of getting mud in our eyes - this would be a disaster, said John. Oh, yeah! - John's last trip here was during the major rescue ages ago! - apparently most cavers only visit Otter Hole once; this was not really welcome to hear just before embarking on an underground marathon.
The small square heavy duty gate was duly opened and we filed in; it was 1:23pm. I placed my 2 litres of water and keys on a rock shelf just inside the entrance and followed John through the first flat out bedding plane to the drop down into a spiral of crawls past the Otter's Nest and along a further crawl; an upside down T-shaped squeeze had me take a couple of goes since it was on my limit of thinness (!) and I managed to scrunch my body through it with some extra vigour. A short drop down a triangular topped slot sees more wriggling through ever-worsening mud and a sequence of muddy obstacles, crawls and minor climbs. The passage enlarges, mercifully, until we can stand up and have a breather. John said that since we had plenty of time to get to the tidal sump we could afford to take our time otherwise we'd be waiting unnecessarily when we got there. So we took various routes, depending on whether we preferred the "high road" or the "low road" through a very muddy collection of large boulders and some mud-coated formations; all of this section of the cave floods to the roof in high water conditions and route finding is not aided by the usual "pathway" since the mud refreshes itself every day and obliterates any signs of a route ahead.
Soon we reach the tidal sump and squelch down in the knee deep thixotropic sludge while listening to the eerie weirdness of the noises of the groaning cave as the sump displaces air while it opens. We wait for perhaps ten minutes and then I have a look at the gap; going in up to about shoulder depth I can see my way through but the water is goddam cold and it would require holding my breath and ducking through with my helmet off - I decide to go back and wait for a few more minutes before actually taking up the challenge and pressing ahead. Although quite narrow and requiring one to remove one's helmet, it is very simple... but cold... quickly through, one climbs up a small ladder on the right and makes cautious progress up the side of some large wedged muddy boulders before climbing back down and approaching a 5m fixed steel ladder (but very narrow!). A simple climb up leads one into the next main part of our journey. It was around 2pm when we made our way through the tidal sump. From here we had to negotiate an array of obstacles which mostly comprised boulder hopping, climbing, wading through streamways, a pleasant traverse (I never thought I'd write that about traverses!) and some vicious squeezes, awkward moves, thrutching and more - all requiring utmost concentration constantly in order to avoid a minor slip becoming a major rescue. Rescue from this cave would be an awesome prospect and, in certain instances, probably completely impossible. The well publicised last rescue involved over 100 rescuers and the female casualty still needed to get off the stretcher to make her final exit after (I think) two days underground - and having met her I know she's a small, thin person.
By the time we reached the climb up away from the streamway, ready to begin our ascent towards the Hall of the Thirty, we were all happy to have a breather and take on some refreshment. Andy Sparrow let his Snickers bar slip between two boulders which we eventually moved apart only for it to fall underneath an even larger one. Oops!
Refreshed, we begin the hardest part of the journey for large people - an uphill sequence of tubular squeezes, crawls, thrutching and some downward obstacles of a similar nature before the boulder ruckle where Laura had her accident, followed by the 2.4m "slippery climb" which was easier done than expected, given some excellent hand holds, then a nasty S-bend tube which made all my vertebrae crack as I forced my body through using my legs as raw power. Hmmm...
This quickly opens into a flat-roofed gallery and the beginning of the pretty stuff.
Andy Sparrow had managed to get ahead of the group and was enjoying the delights around each corner ahead of the rest of us as well all singly made our way following the taped off pathway towards increasingly more stunning formations with each footstep. We get to a major corner and witness a huge column, guessed at being around 8m high and perhaps an equal dimension measured around the massive boss at its base, with pristine perfect curtains of similar proportions festooning the ceiling and inlet avens. Profusions of delicate straws added to the visual feast surrounding us as we made our way towards the famous Hall of the Thirty...
The Hall of the Thirty is on a gentle slope and the path winds around to follow the left hand "wall" passing huge stalagmites which tower much higher than anyone in our group, the tallest being guessed at being around 4 metres high... or possibly more?; there appear to be a countless number of these massive formations, representing a "forest" which is apt considering the walk to the cave entrance and the Forest of Dean Cavers who found this magnificent place. No doubt each of us was taking in the sights before us and coming up with their own descriptions!
At the top of the path we sit and admire our surroundings before John looks at his watch and declares that we have enough time to go further still. Onward past a huge curtain and stalflow section and towards a polluted area where the stal has been stained black; we are warned to avoid getting fluid from the black pools onto our gloves as they were tested and found to have high concentrations of arsenic in them. Point taken. Making good progress among these fine formations requires awareness and caution so as not to transfer any mud from our warmbacs or gloves onto the calcite surfaces - one section has a traverse line installed specifically for this purpose which works well. Then the character of the passage changes again and we are into a lower roofed square section with a taped pathway on either side of which are more profusions of straws; ahead we find the overnight camp - one of the few flat floored sections of the cave. We regroup and John leads us up a boulder slope into a high aven with water splashing down into an assortment of cups and containers - once upon a time this was used for refreshment but recent testing alerted cavers that this water was polluted with sewerage and possibly was the source of the "mystery illness" which used to befall cavers to Otter Hole.
John explained that this watery part of the cave is "about half way"; it is now 4:27pm - we have been caving for just over 3 hours which is exceptionally good progress as it means we can reasonably expect to regain the surface before 8pm (way ahead of our contingency time schedule). Despite having time in hand the group decided that this would be our turning point nonetheless. I headed on back, "almost solo" and made my quiet way through the passageway and following the path, enjoying the sense of awe in the HOTT being surrounded by these immovable mute "creatures" with their shadows glancing across far walls and shafts of calcite hanging from the ceiling creating a wonderful 3D effect. Don't forget the stunning perfection of the masses of curtains!
Steady but good progress continued all the way back to the refreshment stop where our bag had been left alongside John's small kit bag - it took us 40 minutes to all regroup there and I shan't be describing the route, needless to say it did involve those committing squeezes but these were easier on the way down as breathing out and allowing gravity to assist made things better. The "exposed climb" was a synch too by traversing around the top towards the right hand wall and then gaining a second ledge and going over to the vertical "tube" on the left which slides down to the base, bypassing the overhanging climb. Once we were all back at the streamway to collect the bags, we finished off our supplies and made progress back down the streamway, variously engaged in boulder hopping, clambering, thrutching, squeezing and the rather jolly traverse which, being no more than 3m deep, posed no nightmares for the traverse-wary.
The fixed ladder led us straight back into the world of sludge-mud and quickly through the generously opened tidal sump without needing to remove our helmets and up the horrendously claggy mud slope beyond, using the small diameter polypropylene guideline as genuinely necessary assistance on this difficult and squelchy section, made harder by me being nominated as the official bag carrier for the final leg of the journey. There remained 1,000 feet of passage to daylight, all sapping our remaining energy as sliding, walking and cautious progress was hampered by the slippery and hindering nature of the surfaces. No vestige of our pathway was obvious when we reached the boulder choke so the group split with myself and the two Andys perhaps finding a hard way through requiring some assistance and spotting to clamber among the large blocks. We regroup at the fossil passage junction, knowing there's probably only about 100 foot of passage left and then my battery runs out. Darn! - not a problem since I have a spare with me but it was a fumble trying to remove the flat one and replace it while coated in this slick sticky mud. I followed John out since the others had already made their way towards the Otter nest and the sequence of squeezes. John went head first down a tube which I thought better of - which necessitated doing a sideways somersault once I had managed to find, on my third attempt, an area sufficiently large to enable me to do so. Going down feet first then required a similar manoeuvre so that I could then see where I was going for the final leg over the triangular slot and the tightest squeeze of the trip through the inverted T section with just the flat out bedding slab reflecting daylight from the entrance. Pop! - we were all out. I grabbed my 2 litre bottle of water and keys before slamming the heavy door shut and greeting a pleasantly cool Spring evening. It was 6:45pm. We had only been underground for about five and a half hours and achieved all we set out to do! The return journey from our furthest point had therefore only required about two and a half hours to achieve.
Mind you, judging by the silence among us on the labourious seemingly never-ending hike back through the ever steepening wood, negotiating numerous fallen trees and pokey-eye stuff, we had all used up a lot of energy and now felt the fatigue beginning to steal over us.
We eventually regained the car park and found all our vehicles intact and dekitted our heavy burdens. Our faces were mostly obliterated of recognisable features by the coating of dried up mud making us look far from our usual debonaire and handsome best.
So, thanks to John Elliott for taking time out to lead us into this amazing system. The apprehension of the previously unknown cave was now dispelled - perhaps another trip sometime with cameras?
