cap n chris
Well-known member
Sunday 29th August 2004: Featuring the following intrepid cavers: Andy Sparrow, Melanie Lloyd, Ken Passant, Andy Pollard, Danielle Gorman, Chris Binding.
The weekend prior saw a successful club trip to Slaughter Stream Cave in the Forest of Dean; the site of the recent "Extreme Archaeology" programme wherein four ponced up nonces spent three and a half hours scrabbling their way to Cross Stream Junction whereas our group took a mere thirty five minutes out of a total five hour trip to achieve the same goal. During beers later in the day it was remarked that we should do something similarly demanding on Mendip; the plan was hatched... we would do The Round Trip in Swildon's Hole (and possibly visit the Swildon's Four Streamway as well).
We all assembled at Priddy Green at 11:00am and finally sorted out the equipment, tackle bags, jokes and handy hints so that by 11:40am we were in the cave; it was drizzling hard enough to be classed as rain and the day was grey and unappealing on the surface. Perhaps the stream would be higher than it had been recently?.. "No, no, it wasn't".
During the dry days of August (i.e barring a "full Boscastle") it had been very parched and the cave stream had all but dried up until one got as far as Rolling Thunder/Old 40' whereupon an active inlet provided some splashy fun to the journey.
At the entrance there was a slight hiccup when it quickly became apparent that the lamp I had lent Mel was acting up; no matter what was done, it continued to be intermittent; perhaps the switch was sticking, or the bulb had gone (a spare kept in a case was sought and fitted) - the others had already entered the cave before us - if all else failed Mel could use a backup Tikka lamp but this would not be an ideal light source to rely upon prior to embarking on such a trip.
At this point, Andy S popped back up the entrance to find out what had become of us - and, simultaneously, the lamp appeared to have experienced a miraculous recovery! Not bothering to seek an explanation for this turn of affairs we simply entered the cave and began our subterranean journey while Andy sped off ahead to help the others rig and negotiate the ladder pitch.
We descended into the beckoning darkness and all went well as we glided through the deepening cave, down the Twenty foot ladder pitch, double pots, water rift/Barne's Loop and eventually climbing up into Tratman's Temple whereupon Andy S gave the agogging newbies an introduction to the history of the Round Trip. "Where all cavers should boldly go". I had brought my camera along and planned to get some snaps of the trip, not previously taking it to this part of Swildon's Hole.
Having squeezed our way through Balch's Forbidden Grotto ("I FORBID you to go there!"; "Pass us the explosives, John") we crawled and squeezed some more until we reached the first Mud Sump; again Andy S gave an explanation as to the un-wisdom of mistaking the first Mud Sump for the PROPER Mud Sump (you'd probably drown in clay). Note: shouldn't the past-participle of "squeezed" be "squozed"? Or is this just an adjective-gerund? I must check with my Gowers.
The Mud Sump was mostly baled already so no further work was required (note: shouldn't this be "requored"?) and we all doved through without mishap or gurgling. From the Mud Sump the going becomes easier and it is possible to stand up for longer periods, barring a couple of short crawls. We approached the beginning of the South East Inlets/Renascence rift leading us up toward the level stance above Shatter Pot where we regrouped for a breather (re-groped for a broother?).
Andy Pollard produced a survey, as if by magic, from within his overalls and made the hasty claim that he had indeed done the round trip before. So....
..... He was instantly promoted to New Group Leader and was expected to find the way on; we all discreetly followed past Candy's Calamity into the crawl to the base of the Greasy Chimney. Managing to climb up before Melanie allowed me to get a hastily snatched shot of her as she thrutched her valiant way up this obstacle. (Note: shouldn't the subjunctive of "she thrutched" be "she thrutchetted"?).
The hairy-scary traverse/climb immediately beyond the "Greesie Chimbley" was a bit of an eye-opener for Melanie who didn't appear to enjoy it very much. Mr. Daddy Long Legs doesn't quite understand what it's like to be a shortie. That done, we continued - I took the quick detour past the oxbow and got to Fault Chamber junction for a rest, soon to be joined by the others. The New Group Leader then expertly led us to Blue Pencil Aven where we had an opportunity to sit down and complain about trivialities and being hot. A hasty piece of democracy then ensued along the following lines: We have a choice - we can go straight on and continue with the Round Trip OR WE COULD... take a one hour detour down Blue Pencil Passage to the Swildon's Four streamway.
Swildon's Hole has a series of sumps (flooded cave passage, progress through which is made by free-diving - holding your breath and going for a swim if the distance is short enough - or by using scuba equipment for the longer sumps) and a nomenclature based upon them; the passage beyond sump 1 is called Swildon's 2 Streamway, the chamber beyond sumps 2 & 3 is known as Swildon's 4 Streamway and that section beyond sump 4 is named Swildon's 5 etc... until you reach the present end of the cave at sump 12. Thus, our proposed trip to Swildon's Four Streamway would result from taking the Blue Pencil Passage which bypasses the need to dive through sumps 2 & 3.
DIGRESSION - The Abilene Syndrome: This crowd psychology theory was discovered in Abilene, Texas by a student who noticed that his fellow students would agree to go out to watch movies even though they disliked the film and weren't too keen on seeing it; on enquiring of the others in the group it was discovered that no-one actually wanted to watch the movie at all but everyone had agreed to go and watch it because they thought the others wanted to. The Abilene Syndrome can also be quoted as "People in groups agree to do things that as individuals they wouldn't agree to do". I pointed out to the assembled party the Abilene Syndrome and was instantly ignored because everyone said they wanted to go and visit the Swildon's Four streamway. Hey ho, off we go...
Now for those of you in the audience of reader-land who have not visited this little gem of cave passage here's a brief history/explanation of what's in store for you... First, if you're keen on pies and lard you probably oughtn't to attempt it. Discard any baggage. Anything protruding is a no-no so try and leave your belt-mounted battery pack in the shed if you're planning on this adventure (or shove it up your bum for neatness' sake). The Bible of local caving, "Mendip Underground", rates the Round Trip as Severe and a visit to Swildon's Four as Super-Severe; oddly, Blue Pencil Passage is only listed as Very Difficult.
During the War (you know, the one which old duffers keep harping on and on and on about) the public censors who were employed to cut out items of news which could possibly have been of use to the enemy ("the Hun", "Fritz" etc.) had blue pencils with which they would circle any "offending" words. Thus, when this section of cave was being discovered and pushed and proved sufficiently difficult such that cavers were reduced to using cuss-words during their travails it was dubbed "Blue Pencil" since it required censoring due to the overuse of Anglo Saxon expressions.
Having already been down here before I considered it wise to leave my tackle bag, camera and belt behind. Off we go...
At first it all seemed so easy; slide down and wriggle along a narrowing passage head first through a couple of T-slots; do a somersault and then progress backwards, feet-first round a sharp right which opens over a blind pot; this leads feet first to the cup-like opening of the 5m "free-climbable" hole. The authors of the esteemed publication in which the expression "free-climbable" is printed may have one or two detractors regarding the accuracy of their opinion; a simpleton, rendered senseless by chronic abuse of lysergic acid diethylamide could eventually be persuaded to agree with such a spurious claim. Being dwellers in the world of sanity, some of our group baulked at this obstacle, claiming that the description was "clearly a lie". Kid glove treatment was required and the climb down was finally achieved - hence proving that the lie was, after all, merely a half-truth. This leads into the backwards crawl tube in which the mercilessly tight ninety degree right turn is located beyond which one is compelled to continue feet first down the claustrophobia-inducing passage until reaching the large chain bolted into the floor which is then grasped tightly and allows one to be born, arse-first, into the Swildon's Four streamway, some twelve foot up above the water. A bold and robust climb down the chain delivers you into the realm of relative safety. Of course, thin people don't really see what all the fuss is about.
Once we had all negotiated the exuberant Blue Pencil section we set off upstream in the impressive streamway. The passage size is stunning after the previous tightness and the going is easy, accompanied by the water which is always a delight when you're hot and bothered. We head up towards Sump 3 and take a while to regain our composure before turning back and retracing our steps; there are numerous bones in the pebble banks either side of the stream here. The phreatic scouring of the limestone is also impressive. Back at the chain the character of the passage is different, more vadose cut-down and winding sharp-edged channels with small deep pots and cascades. This continues for what seems a minor eternity until the passage width increases past a wading-deep pot and we see the slime-coated nightmare which is the inlet from Priddy Sink/Cowsh Aven. The stream here is frothing and churning with life - writhing shrimps, worms, leeches and sheep. You name it. Gross.
OK, so I was exaggerating about the sheep, leeches and worms. Just around the corner is sump 4. You can readily and easily imagine the rabid shrieks of elation at the prospect of swimming through this utopian sewer. Everyone voted that going back was now a good idea (not that we'd planned or agreed to free-dive through this hideously unwelcoming latrine but I had premonitions of a re-run of the earlier Abilene Syndrome "decision"). Thankfully everyone appeared to have had the same view as me. So, we turn around and we head upstream to regain the chain. The return journey up Blue Pencil was entirely uneventful and very simple, requiring little, if any, exertion. See...... it's easy to write inaccurate nonsense about how effortless caving can be.
By the time we got back to the bags which we had abandoned earlier after making our Abilene Syndrome error, one and a half hours had elapsed. We had now been underground for a total of three and a half hours. A quick break for a breather was had and then we judiciously traversed our way above the Blue Pencil gulf (described in Minging Underground as "an easy straddle" - but I somehow always manage to make it look like "an awkward straddle") and headed up towards the first of the Double Troubles. On arrival, half expecting it to be mostly baled and an easy duck, we discovered that things couldn't have been further from the truth; it was totally full.
So..... a frenzied bucket-baling session then began with the two Andys, Ken and myself taking turns at creating a white water rapid sufficient enough to intimidate an Olympic canoeist. After twenty minutes of this noisy and stirring industry, we had achieved a one inch airspace. Work continued, somewhat less feverishly than before as the lactic acid and fatigue increased. Thankfully Andy Pollard went at it like a frenzied fireman trying to douse an inferno of biblical proportions. Eventually Andy S was convinced the airspace was huge; he went through and called back that "Everything's fine but lay on your back with your nose in the roof slot". I went through, helmet off, and Melanie followed but wasn't happy about laying in the freezing water; she immediately decided to ditch that idea and just hold her breath and dive through in the conventional manner. The second trouble was erroneously named; being more of a trifle.
Now soaked through (shouldn't that be "soakened"?) we stumble on, half crawling, half stooping, through the Doomed Grotto and a further narrow corridor and watery tube swim/crawl until we come to my nemesis - the flat out squeeze best attempted on your back with oversuit, belt and helmet off for a full body contortion with rib bruising as an added extra which enables all of us to get first hand experience of what it is like to be toothpaste freshly delivered onto a brush. From here the going becomes somewhat arduous. I dress myself again and head on down towards the final duck which is a joy and cools the heated brow. We locate the opened Bible on the right hand side, with its addition of a carton of Ribena and a Scout's Organisation plaque presumably commemorating yet another lost child who probably "wasn't `aard enuff!".
The muddy sequence of passages opens and takes one down a long stone slide to the head of Vicarage Passage where a small rocky climb down through boulders on the left leads through a tight slot into an enlarging rift which again takes one through a small boulder choke and finally delivers one to the top of the Landing. Everyone likes the Landing since it is a relaxing slide with a rope for companionship and reassurance - and to avoid an uncontrolled, fast, descent followed by a painful impact and a bruise on the arse at the end. Hey presto! We were at the Swildon's Two streamway. From here on there are no real obstacles between us and the surface; unless you consider sump 1, the water rift, the double pots and the wing-wongy twenty foot ladder to be anything other than minor hurdles barely worth a quibble. The group had by now become somewhat fractured and strung out (i.e. separated) by this stage since Melanie was feeling cold and Andy S was keen for her to keep moving. So it was that we reverted to the maxim of the Three Musketeers - "All for one and each man/woman for him/herself" - and headed on. Diving upstream through sump 1 was refreshing and the return up and out of the cave was straightforward and unexceptional apart from rigging a double line to create an aid for the weary at the pitch. Finally finding daylight we check the watch and discover that we had completed the adventure in a mere five hours; a very commendable effort and a trip worthy of the term.
It will be interesting to find out how long a club trip requires to complete just the Round Trip without the diversion down to Swildon's Four - and it will be far easier for the failed anorexics as well.
.... Anyone fancy a pint?
The weekend prior saw a successful club trip to Slaughter Stream Cave in the Forest of Dean; the site of the recent "Extreme Archaeology" programme wherein four ponced up nonces spent three and a half hours scrabbling their way to Cross Stream Junction whereas our group took a mere thirty five minutes out of a total five hour trip to achieve the same goal. During beers later in the day it was remarked that we should do something similarly demanding on Mendip; the plan was hatched... we would do The Round Trip in Swildon's Hole (and possibly visit the Swildon's Four Streamway as well).
We all assembled at Priddy Green at 11:00am and finally sorted out the equipment, tackle bags, jokes and handy hints so that by 11:40am we were in the cave; it was drizzling hard enough to be classed as rain and the day was grey and unappealing on the surface. Perhaps the stream would be higher than it had been recently?.. "No, no, it wasn't".
During the dry days of August (i.e barring a "full Boscastle") it had been very parched and the cave stream had all but dried up until one got as far as Rolling Thunder/Old 40' whereupon an active inlet provided some splashy fun to the journey.
At the entrance there was a slight hiccup when it quickly became apparent that the lamp I had lent Mel was acting up; no matter what was done, it continued to be intermittent; perhaps the switch was sticking, or the bulb had gone (a spare kept in a case was sought and fitted) - the others had already entered the cave before us - if all else failed Mel could use a backup Tikka lamp but this would not be an ideal light source to rely upon prior to embarking on such a trip.
At this point, Andy S popped back up the entrance to find out what had become of us - and, simultaneously, the lamp appeared to have experienced a miraculous recovery! Not bothering to seek an explanation for this turn of affairs we simply entered the cave and began our subterranean journey while Andy sped off ahead to help the others rig and negotiate the ladder pitch.
We descended into the beckoning darkness and all went well as we glided through the deepening cave, down the Twenty foot ladder pitch, double pots, water rift/Barne's Loop and eventually climbing up into Tratman's Temple whereupon Andy S gave the agogging newbies an introduction to the history of the Round Trip. "Where all cavers should boldly go". I had brought my camera along and planned to get some snaps of the trip, not previously taking it to this part of Swildon's Hole.
Having squeezed our way through Balch's Forbidden Grotto ("I FORBID you to go there!"; "Pass us the explosives, John") we crawled and squeezed some more until we reached the first Mud Sump; again Andy S gave an explanation as to the un-wisdom of mistaking the first Mud Sump for the PROPER Mud Sump (you'd probably drown in clay). Note: shouldn't the past-participle of "squeezed" be "squozed"? Or is this just an adjective-gerund? I must check with my Gowers.
The Mud Sump was mostly baled already so no further work was required (note: shouldn't this be "requored"?) and we all doved through without mishap or gurgling. From the Mud Sump the going becomes easier and it is possible to stand up for longer periods, barring a couple of short crawls. We approached the beginning of the South East Inlets/Renascence rift leading us up toward the level stance above Shatter Pot where we regrouped for a breather (re-groped for a broother?).
Andy Pollard produced a survey, as if by magic, from within his overalls and made the hasty claim that he had indeed done the round trip before. So....
..... He was instantly promoted to New Group Leader and was expected to find the way on; we all discreetly followed past Candy's Calamity into the crawl to the base of the Greasy Chimney. Managing to climb up before Melanie allowed me to get a hastily snatched shot of her as she thrutched her valiant way up this obstacle. (Note: shouldn't the subjunctive of "she thrutched" be "she thrutchetted"?).
The hairy-scary traverse/climb immediately beyond the "Greesie Chimbley" was a bit of an eye-opener for Melanie who didn't appear to enjoy it very much. Mr. Daddy Long Legs doesn't quite understand what it's like to be a shortie. That done, we continued - I took the quick detour past the oxbow and got to Fault Chamber junction for a rest, soon to be joined by the others. The New Group Leader then expertly led us to Blue Pencil Aven where we had an opportunity to sit down and complain about trivialities and being hot. A hasty piece of democracy then ensued along the following lines: We have a choice - we can go straight on and continue with the Round Trip OR WE COULD... take a one hour detour down Blue Pencil Passage to the Swildon's Four streamway.
Swildon's Hole has a series of sumps (flooded cave passage, progress through which is made by free-diving - holding your breath and going for a swim if the distance is short enough - or by using scuba equipment for the longer sumps) and a nomenclature based upon them; the passage beyond sump 1 is called Swildon's 2 Streamway, the chamber beyond sumps 2 & 3 is known as Swildon's 4 Streamway and that section beyond sump 4 is named Swildon's 5 etc... until you reach the present end of the cave at sump 12. Thus, our proposed trip to Swildon's Four Streamway would result from taking the Blue Pencil Passage which bypasses the need to dive through sumps 2 & 3.
DIGRESSION - The Abilene Syndrome: This crowd psychology theory was discovered in Abilene, Texas by a student who noticed that his fellow students would agree to go out to watch movies even though they disliked the film and weren't too keen on seeing it; on enquiring of the others in the group it was discovered that no-one actually wanted to watch the movie at all but everyone had agreed to go and watch it because they thought the others wanted to. The Abilene Syndrome can also be quoted as "People in groups agree to do things that as individuals they wouldn't agree to do". I pointed out to the assembled party the Abilene Syndrome and was instantly ignored because everyone said they wanted to go and visit the Swildon's Four streamway. Hey ho, off we go...
Now for those of you in the audience of reader-land who have not visited this little gem of cave passage here's a brief history/explanation of what's in store for you... First, if you're keen on pies and lard you probably oughtn't to attempt it. Discard any baggage. Anything protruding is a no-no so try and leave your belt-mounted battery pack in the shed if you're planning on this adventure (or shove it up your bum for neatness' sake). The Bible of local caving, "Mendip Underground", rates the Round Trip as Severe and a visit to Swildon's Four as Super-Severe; oddly, Blue Pencil Passage is only listed as Very Difficult.
During the War (you know, the one which old duffers keep harping on and on and on about) the public censors who were employed to cut out items of news which could possibly have been of use to the enemy ("the Hun", "Fritz" etc.) had blue pencils with which they would circle any "offending" words. Thus, when this section of cave was being discovered and pushed and proved sufficiently difficult such that cavers were reduced to using cuss-words during their travails it was dubbed "Blue Pencil" since it required censoring due to the overuse of Anglo Saxon expressions.
Having already been down here before I considered it wise to leave my tackle bag, camera and belt behind. Off we go...
At first it all seemed so easy; slide down and wriggle along a narrowing passage head first through a couple of T-slots; do a somersault and then progress backwards, feet-first round a sharp right which opens over a blind pot; this leads feet first to the cup-like opening of the 5m "free-climbable" hole. The authors of the esteemed publication in which the expression "free-climbable" is printed may have one or two detractors regarding the accuracy of their opinion; a simpleton, rendered senseless by chronic abuse of lysergic acid diethylamide could eventually be persuaded to agree with such a spurious claim. Being dwellers in the world of sanity, some of our group baulked at this obstacle, claiming that the description was "clearly a lie". Kid glove treatment was required and the climb down was finally achieved - hence proving that the lie was, after all, merely a half-truth. This leads into the backwards crawl tube in which the mercilessly tight ninety degree right turn is located beyond which one is compelled to continue feet first down the claustrophobia-inducing passage until reaching the large chain bolted into the floor which is then grasped tightly and allows one to be born, arse-first, into the Swildon's Four streamway, some twelve foot up above the water. A bold and robust climb down the chain delivers you into the realm of relative safety. Of course, thin people don't really see what all the fuss is about.
Once we had all negotiated the exuberant Blue Pencil section we set off upstream in the impressive streamway. The passage size is stunning after the previous tightness and the going is easy, accompanied by the water which is always a delight when you're hot and bothered. We head up towards Sump 3 and take a while to regain our composure before turning back and retracing our steps; there are numerous bones in the pebble banks either side of the stream here. The phreatic scouring of the limestone is also impressive. Back at the chain the character of the passage is different, more vadose cut-down and winding sharp-edged channels with small deep pots and cascades. This continues for what seems a minor eternity until the passage width increases past a wading-deep pot and we see the slime-coated nightmare which is the inlet from Priddy Sink/Cowsh Aven. The stream here is frothing and churning with life - writhing shrimps, worms, leeches and sheep. You name it. Gross.
OK, so I was exaggerating about the sheep, leeches and worms. Just around the corner is sump 4. You can readily and easily imagine the rabid shrieks of elation at the prospect of swimming through this utopian sewer. Everyone voted that going back was now a good idea (not that we'd planned or agreed to free-dive through this hideously unwelcoming latrine but I had premonitions of a re-run of the earlier Abilene Syndrome "decision"). Thankfully everyone appeared to have had the same view as me. So, we turn around and we head upstream to regain the chain. The return journey up Blue Pencil was entirely uneventful and very simple, requiring little, if any, exertion. See...... it's easy to write inaccurate nonsense about how effortless caving can be.
By the time we got back to the bags which we had abandoned earlier after making our Abilene Syndrome error, one and a half hours had elapsed. We had now been underground for a total of three and a half hours. A quick break for a breather was had and then we judiciously traversed our way above the Blue Pencil gulf (described in Minging Underground as "an easy straddle" - but I somehow always manage to make it look like "an awkward straddle") and headed up towards the first of the Double Troubles. On arrival, half expecting it to be mostly baled and an easy duck, we discovered that things couldn't have been further from the truth; it was totally full.
So..... a frenzied bucket-baling session then began with the two Andys, Ken and myself taking turns at creating a white water rapid sufficient enough to intimidate an Olympic canoeist. After twenty minutes of this noisy and stirring industry, we had achieved a one inch airspace. Work continued, somewhat less feverishly than before as the lactic acid and fatigue increased. Thankfully Andy Pollard went at it like a frenzied fireman trying to douse an inferno of biblical proportions. Eventually Andy S was convinced the airspace was huge; he went through and called back that "Everything's fine but lay on your back with your nose in the roof slot". I went through, helmet off, and Melanie followed but wasn't happy about laying in the freezing water; she immediately decided to ditch that idea and just hold her breath and dive through in the conventional manner. The second trouble was erroneously named; being more of a trifle.
Now soaked through (shouldn't that be "soakened"?) we stumble on, half crawling, half stooping, through the Doomed Grotto and a further narrow corridor and watery tube swim/crawl until we come to my nemesis - the flat out squeeze best attempted on your back with oversuit, belt and helmet off for a full body contortion with rib bruising as an added extra which enables all of us to get first hand experience of what it is like to be toothpaste freshly delivered onto a brush. From here the going becomes somewhat arduous. I dress myself again and head on down towards the final duck which is a joy and cools the heated brow. We locate the opened Bible on the right hand side, with its addition of a carton of Ribena and a Scout's Organisation plaque presumably commemorating yet another lost child who probably "wasn't `aard enuff!".
The muddy sequence of passages opens and takes one down a long stone slide to the head of Vicarage Passage where a small rocky climb down through boulders on the left leads through a tight slot into an enlarging rift which again takes one through a small boulder choke and finally delivers one to the top of the Landing. Everyone likes the Landing since it is a relaxing slide with a rope for companionship and reassurance - and to avoid an uncontrolled, fast, descent followed by a painful impact and a bruise on the arse at the end. Hey presto! We were at the Swildon's Two streamway. From here on there are no real obstacles between us and the surface; unless you consider sump 1, the water rift, the double pots and the wing-wongy twenty foot ladder to be anything other than minor hurdles barely worth a quibble. The group had by now become somewhat fractured and strung out (i.e. separated) by this stage since Melanie was feeling cold and Andy S was keen for her to keep moving. So it was that we reverted to the maxim of the Three Musketeers - "All for one and each man/woman for him/herself" - and headed on. Diving upstream through sump 1 was refreshing and the return up and out of the cave was straightforward and unexceptional apart from rigging a double line to create an aid for the weary at the pitch. Finally finding daylight we check the watch and discover that we had completed the adventure in a mere five hours; a very commendable effort and a trip worthy of the term.
It will be interesting to find out how long a club trip requires to complete just the Round Trip without the diversion down to Swildon's Four - and it will be far easier for the failed anorexics as well.
.... Anyone fancy a pint?
