SUMPED!

Friday 6^th February 2015

This is big (caving) news, or at least it is to me.  I have finally, as I begin year three of my caving odyssey, made it to Sump 1 in Swildon’s Hole, and I made it through the sump, which is Sump 1, into the part of the cave system known as Swildon’s Two. This is me, and Florence, having a quick snap taken by Will in Swildon’s Two, just past the sump.  The road sign must have been lugged through the cave and then through the sump.  It refers to the fact that having tested the water flow with dye, it is clear that there is some passage, as yet un-caved and possibly all submerged, to Wookey Hole from this area of Swildon’s. Now, Swildon’s and I have history.  It’s The Cave to be seen in.  All the best dressed cavers hang out here.  All the cave-royals, the cave-eratti as it were, are forever scurrying about in Swildon’s, free-climbing the 20 foot waterfall, free-diving the sumps, and generally having a cave-party that I could not attend.  Why?  Because I could not conquer my fear of The Twenty. This is a 20 foot waterfall, generally rigged with a narrow wire ladder. First, you climb down; later, after you and Swildon’s have had an amazing time, you climb back up.  At about 6 feet down, the water hits you.  And to get onto this wire ladder, which seems to me to be flaying wildly about in the water, and the breeze that water generates, you have to insinuate yourself over and round a big bulging boulder.  The fear so freaked me out, I was often almost crying with it as I attempted to get on the blasted ladder and then of course, exhausted by this and the adrenaline that fear produces, shaking with cold, I’d make the most monumental hash-up of the bloody climb itself. I had climbed it four times before the other week.  Only four.  This was of course part of the problem.  I needed to do it more often.  Instead, I’d go to other caves, especially in South Wales.  But in January, we went caving in Wales and I climbed over a tricky little bit called Poached Egg.  And I thought:  this is very much like the nasty boulder as you get on the ladder at The Twenty. And furthermore (I thought), I did that.  I was not sobbing or shaking.  I was fine.  The next weekend we went to Swildon’s. Another factor is stamina. I thought I had good stamina before I started caving.  I could run 13 miles.  I could cycle all day, given food and drink stops. But caving has tested my stamina like nothing else.  I know I have strengths in caves, such as my legs which are powerful from years of cycling; thus I can clamber upwards for extended periods, and use my legs to brace in rifts, for example, to good effect.  I am quite narrow, and for my age, very bendy, so small holes or gaps are generally OK with me.  But I am fearful of exposed climbs and this makes me shake (adrenaline, again).  My upper body is weak and I cannot rely on the strength of my arms in a crisis.  And I get very cold, really fast.  These latter weaknesses all make my endurance a problem.  I have gradually combated this by the simple devices of:  wear All Of The Wet-Suit Things including socks, hoods, full suits and gloves.  Eat as much cave-snackage as can reasonably be carried on a trip.  Keep practicing.  Stop panicking. The other week, we set off.  Snow on the ground, just a sprinkle, but indicative of the temperature on the Mendips.  Which in turn, governs the temp of the water running into and through Swildon’s.  It had been wet so this water was as high as I have known it in the cave.  This is an issue, because it’s – um…playful.  It playfully knocked me off a climb, for example and made the water obstacles past The Twenty even more fun.  But do you know what?  I just climbed The Twenty, no drama.  I then steadily, with much guidance from Flos and Will, made my way to Sump 1.  This includes the Double Pots, into which I fell (there is much water, it’s OK), The Inclined Rift, which is quite good fun, and some watery climbs and scrambles, notably The Washing Machine which was very lively.  Nothing difficult and of course to me, all new. Sump 1 is a flattened tubular space through which you must pass to go to Swildon’s Two.  It is at ground level, about 18 inches high, and I don’t know how wide as I couldn’t see that bit.  But it is filled with water.  No air-gap.  It is however, only a few feet long, so it is possible, having taken a huge deep breath, to submerge yourself and using a thoughtfully secured rope that goes through it, pull yourself in 3 hand pulls of this rope, through the water filled tube.  It’s really easy. I have been through ‘ducks’ and canals – water passages where there is an air gap, even if you have to have your head on one side and one ear submerged in order to breathe as you swim or scuffle along.  But I had never sumped. The thing is, water even in small spaces, does not bother me, so I knew that if I had the strength to make it to the sump, getting through it and back would not be a problem.  As I said the water levels in the cave were high, so the sump had no air space. This is usual, it’s rare that it has a gap.  It’s an odd little chamber, quite sandy and quiet.  The sump looks like a wall.  There is a thick rope that clearly goes into the water at the base of this wall, but the water was very murky and covered in foam, which is due to the high water activity at that time.  So it looks as if you will lie down in the water, and pull yourself into a solid rock. However, hidden away is the small space through which you must post yourself. You are wet through already, having encountered many water hazards on the way.  But still, full immersion is called for and it’s a shock.  As you lie down on your tummy and grip the rope, you just have to trust that it’s only a few feet long and 1,000s of cavers go through it.  I was warned that your cave suit fills with air, and as it’s a very low space, this makes the thick canvas suit drag along the roof of the sump, which can make you feel as if you are getting stuck.  So although this did happen, I was expecting it. Will went through, very fast, and then he gave three strong pulls on the rope to indicate that he was through and in the next chamber.  Then he came back.  Worryingly, he sort of curled up and down and held his head and pulled alarming faces for about five minutes as his brain froze due to the freezing water.  Florence quietly pulled on her luxury 3mm wet-hood.  Will and I looked envious. She went through, pulled three times on the rope – and then it was my turn. I laid in the water and grabbed the rope.  One look back at Will, who assured me I did not have to do it, but if I did it would be OK, and I took a massive breath, submerged myself and hauled myself along and into the sump.  It is bitter cold, and eyes closed, ears full of water, suit scraping top and bottom, it is a very weird experience.  Three arm-length pulls later, and I was thinking:  this is longer than I was led to believe, I hope I have enough breath, but then I felt a rap on my helmet.  Florence was alerting me to the fact that I was through and was now just hauling myself through a deep puddle on the other side! Quick picture in Swildon’s Two, then back through the sump.  It’s  easier from the other side as you can see the space you are aiming for, plus, of course, you’ve done it once so it seems less alarming.  Except, I wasn’t alarmed or frightened.  Just as I expected, privately, once I got to the sump, I was absolutely fine going through it. The return trip was fast (for me), not very pretty, and the ascent back up the ladder at the 20 foot waterfall was back to my usual standards of rubbish caving, but I did not care.  I did it.  I had the stamina to get to, and through, Sump 1 and back.  This is a landmark for me.  Unless you can do this, you cannot do the classic Swildon’s trip known as The Short Round Trip.  It is not short, other than when compared to The Long Round Trip.  But it does involve Sump 1, and some other bits of the cave system that require stamina and confidence.  My new goal is to train up for this trip, this year. From the entrance of the cave to Sump 1 is a distance of about half a mile, so the trip there and back is a mile of caving, with 400 feet of drop/climb. That is a lot of caving, for me.  Now I need to do this trip again but carry on past the sump to Sump Two which I will just have a look at.  It’s quite long, I think.  Then I need to do the same trip plus a climb up before Sump One at Tratman’s Temple, because this is the start of the deviation for The Short Round.  The Short Round includes a few muddy ducks or sumps, I suppose, but you bail them; and some awkward squeezes.  I think I will be OK with these, as long as there are no horrid climbs.  It’s my work in progress for 2015. I now feel rather differently about Swildon’s. I think I am starting to get the Swildon’s ‘bug’. I am in year three of caving, with lengthy periods of weeks or even months when I have not been caving but on average over these years, I have caved at least once a month.  The last few trips have really been different.  I note that I am not feeling sick with nerves before a trip, and perhaps because of this, I am enjoying it far more.  I’ve always loved the pretty things that the cave unicorns make, but now I am starting to enjoy the physicality of the sport.  I love sport (only as a participant, I detest watching sport of any kind other than You Tube caving videos), so this is a natural progression. Furthermore, I could not give two hoots that it’s taken me so long to make it through Sump 1. I have spent this time exploring a lot of different caves, returning to Swildon’s every now and then but not exclusively flogging myself about in one (admittedly amazing) cave system.  I have also spent this time exploring my own mental and physical toughness.  I am wanting.  But I am improving, and I will keep on trying new things until I can’t try anymore. At least when that day comes, I won’t regret not having a go at this awesome, incredibly wonderful activity, scurrying about in my world below the so-called real world.  The underground world is more real to me now than ever.  It does call you, once you get used to it.  Luckily, I am immune to addiction of any kind…