CAVING: CLIMBING’S DIRTY LITTLE SIBLING

Photos & Story: Dave Hume

January 29^th, 2018

(OR - WHAT GOES DOWN, MUST COME UP)

Forgive me young climbers, for I have sinned. I’m coming clean here, (for ‘clean’ read ‘dirty’). I’m coming out of the closet (for ‘closet’ read ‘from a dirty hole in the ground’) and admitting that, as a youth in the early 1960s, I was seduced into the underworld by so-called friends.

I doubt if many of the fresh and enthusiastic climbing NMC members want to read the nostalgic ramblings of an old codger about crawling around underground, but caving shares some aspects with climbing that I’d like to offer up from my short-lived but intense caving career.

(Warning – this account uses IMPERIAL measurements)

Firstly, it gets you OUTDOORS. Well that’s not strictly true. Two of my early caving partners were Manchester-based coal miners who spent 5 days underground every week and couldn’t wait to get safely back in there at the weekends. This was the Dracula Factor at work – both were uncomfortable being abroad in daylight, and not just abroad - even in Yorkshire.

Next, caving involves having GEAR to play with. A lamp is essential, which for me began with carbide lamps until I moved on to Nickel-Iron miners’ lamps or NIFE cells. These had the advantage over carbide lamps of allowing you to actually see where you were going, whereas the main plusses of carbide lamps were that you could keep refilling them as long as you had spare dry carbide and a source of water. They also had the benefit of a naked flame, which I confess to using on the posterior of a wet-suited University student (female, for the sake of accuracy) who was reluctant to squirm through a tight squeeze in the Long Crawl of Dan-yr-Ogof in South Wales. The flame also enabled you to burn your own hand, it being cold and wet and so took a long time to notice. I did this myself, so it must be true, posing with one hand at the top of a ladder until the burn reached the dampened nerves. The resultant fall and bat-hang by the feet was more p*ss artist than trapeze artist.

Other gear of the time included Electron Ladders in handy length rolls, hawser-laid ropes in long lengths, a 20 foot hemp waistline and an ex-WD carabiner. An army ammunition box was de rigour to keep your carbide and lunch dry. In some caves you had a lot of stuff to drag around with you. Until we realised how potentially fatal they were, we flirted briefly with the Pierre Allain descendeur, later known as the Death Hook, before opting for a bronze figure of eight, which could reach incredible temperatures on long abseils. Helmets were of course a necessity.

The Pierre Allain descendeur aka the "Death Hook"

Having mentioned wet suits, CLOTHING for caving has no doubt changed radically, much as climbing fashion and functional performance has over the intervening decades. I began with a simple boiler suit over some woolly long johns, progressing to an ex-RAF survival suit, still protected by the boiler suit, and finally to a made-to-measure wet suit. Oh the fun we had drawing lines on each others’ bodies at 2 inch intervals to make the patterns and stick the neoprene pieces together with Bostik and cover it with yellow tape. There was room for personal creativity here – a nice bolero jacket maybe, an up-and-under crotch piece, a sleeveless dungaree, lots of zips and press-studs, like some troglodyte chapter of Hell’s Angels.

Then there is TECHNIQUE. Crawling is often under-rated as a technique, and rarely used in climbing these days, except on meeting a famous climbing wad or on a gritstone route put up by J.W. Puttrell.

In tight spaces, such as the bedding planes of Black Shiver Pot in Yorkshire, it is a question of breathing out first, then moving a few inches. Repeat the action until you reach somewhere bigger, but can be harder if the bedding plane has water in it.

There was a bench seat in the Hill Inn at Ribblehead with a 9-inch gap between seat and back which acted as a test-piece for cavers. Some of you who have had to belay me in recent times would be astonished to learn that I was able to get through that gap on a regular basis. The same pub had a famous traverse around the public bar, so traversing in caves is a common requirement, sometimes over cold and uninviting water - the Green Canal in Dan-yr-Ogof could nearly be traversed successfully and thus nearly staying dry. The infamous Dowber Gill Passage near Kettlewell, requires bridging, traversing, back-and-foot chimneying, slipping, swearing and good luck to keep the unwary from misjudging the optimum level in the 80 foot high and half-mile long rift and dropping too far down the near vertical passage and joining the many who have had to be rescued here, some unsuccessfully. There are many areas of boulders in caves, but blatant bouldering is not advised, as most of the boulders are found in piles or boulder chokes of varying stability.

The infamous Dowber Gill Passage near Kettlewell

Blatant bouldering is not advised, as most of the boulders are found in piles or boulder chokes of varying stability

Straightforward climbing with hands and feet can also be fun, especially when the rock is covered with thixotropic mud – this has the texture of Swarfega. Climbing is typically downwards until you want to go home, when it becomes upwards.

The ability to THRUTCH is a good attribute in a caver. I have personally transferred this skill as my main climbing technique, and my contemporary partners have exploited this by sending me up anything that looks like a greasy, thrutchy, off-width top-out – eg at Wolf Crag. “Go on Dave, you were a caver once, looks like your kind of route”. B*st*rds.

Before the advent of SRT in the 1970’s, – Single Rope Technique, or abseil and prussik, most vertical pitches were climbed by linking the required number of lightweight ladders together, adding a lifeline for long descents, and climbing back up the ladders. During a trip to the Grotto de Monte Cucco near Gubbio in the Italian Apennines, which proved to have 3 big vertical shafts of 390 feet, 610 feet and 470 feet, we would abseil these while other team members prepared the ladders and lifelines for coming back up, with the help of a hand-held winch at the top of each pitch. We thus invented One-Way-Only Single Rope Technique.

Another parallel is the NAMING of caves by first descensionists, or maybe the first surveyors. Magnetometer Pot, Bull Pot of the Witches, Tatham Wife Hole - all beg questions of their origin, others simply reflect their locality – Penyghent Pot, Ogof Ffynnon Ddu (Cave of the Black Spring). Cave features are also named and range from simple descriptors such as Stalactite Chamber or Sludge Crawl, to the esoteric – Gormenghast, the Hall of Justice, the Drop of Doom.

Most vertical pitches were climbed by linking the required number of lightweight ladders together, adding a lifeline for long descents

The last similarity I’ll venture here is SOCIAL. After getting both scared and elated, wet and muddy, exhausted, and at last safe, being with your mates is great. Drinking may be indulged in, banter will certainly be involved, smug satisfaction or readily-dismissed disappointment may be felt, adrenalin-fuelled reliving of epic moments will be shared, bold plans for the morrow made, and travel to different parts of the country and the world. Pretty obvious stuff then.

Now for some DIFFERENCES between caving and climbing.

FIRST DESCENTS. When a climber puts up a new route or problem, they name it and record it. A top feeling. When a caver discovers a new passage, not only is he or she the first, it is also the first time that it has been seen by any human being, ever. That is a humbling thought, and it took me by surprise just how momentous a feeling it was when I first experienced it. There are many undiscovered caves and unexplored passages waiting in the world, even in the UK, just as there are crags awaiting development. The difference is that the caves are not yet visible. One of the most recent major UK discoveries was Titan Shaft near Castleton in the Peak District, proving that even at home there are big underground spaces to be found. However, please take extra care when Googling this cave’s name.

DARK v LIGHT. It is dark in caves. Darker than any dark you have ever experienced. Think being trapped in a coffin like in Kill Bill. On a week-long underground exploration and survey camp in the far reaches of Dan-yr-Ogof in South Wales we found our sense of time slipping away each day due to the lack of any change of light. We had watches, but they didn’t override our body clocks which needed some signs of daylight. By the end of a week we were waking up to start our ‘work’ just after midnight and making evening meals by early afternoon. If you switch your lamp off in a cave, the blackness is absolute.

TEMPERATURE. When you go climbing it can be hot or cold. In caves it is roughly the same temperature in winter or summer – in the UK that is about 48-50º Fahrenheit (I did warn you about Imperial measures – but say 8-10º C). This makes it easier to track the rising air from unexplored cave sinkholes in snow-covered fells, or help you choose to go somewhere nice and cool in hot weather. Cave water is usually between 40 and 44ºF (4-7ºC). What few non-cavers can understand is that claustrophobic tendencies can be overcome thanks to the fresh cool air found in most caves. In some the draught is strong enough to feel like wind. (Suffering from wind in a cave is considered antisocial). If cave air gets stuffy, you may be stuffed. Bring a canary next time.

WATER. Some caves have lots of water, either running or still. Water falling from a height hurts your head. Water in the passage you are in gets you wet and scared. Rising water in the cave or passage you are in makes you sh*t yourself. Hydrophobia is more common than claustrophobia among cavers. Climbing up through a waterfall that has trebled in force since you entered the cave brings out the animal in you. Being able to swim is a handy caving skill. The ability to hold your breath as you navigate a ‘sump’ or ‘duck’ without panicking about being in a tight space is also helpful. Example caves where you might need this are Disappointment Pot in the Gaping Gill system on Ingleborough and Swildon’s Hole in the Mendips. If there is a big downpour while you are underground you might need this aptitude in lots of caves. Six cavers, one of whom I knew, were tragically drowned in Mossdale Caverns near Grassington in 1967 after a major thunderstorm filled the cave despite frantic efforts by rescuers to divert the stream from the entrance.

Disappointment Pot in the Gaping Gill system on Ingleborough and Swildon’s Hole in the Mendips

PHOTOGRAPHY. Getting decent photos underground can be helped by having a team setting off flashes at intervals along a passage, but otherwise pretty little close-ups of calcite formations give the easiest results. Who wants to see someone’s bum as they squirm along in front of you, even if you direct a naked carbide lamp flame to it? It’s no better than the frequent bum or head shots we end up taking at the crag.

DIRECTIONS. Climbing is up, then you come down. Caving is down, then you come up. That is unless you are doing a ‘through trip’ from one cave system or entrance and coming out of another – Lancaster Hole to Ease Gill Caverns is down, along, and up, and takes a full day, or if you get lost in the 40 miles of passage, a full month. Providence Pot to Dow Cave through the unique Dowber Gill Rift Passage mentioned above is basically in a bit, along a bit, up and down a bit, and up a bit to get out. Or vice versa. If you are lucky you can go down a cave and keep going down or along until you come out lower down the mountain. Like climbing, there are guidebooks to help you find the way.

FINESSE. Caving is a burly sport. It’s more like a maul at Twickenham than a carefully laid snooker at the Crucible. Yet it has its moments – crawling through an unstable and creaking boulder choke demands a delicate approach. Climbing a muddy vertical pitch asks for a rare sensitivity. Squeezing through a tight crawl or bedding plane is no place to have an active imagination.

Caving and climbing are indeed sibling sports. There is a history of clubs whose names and membership practised both arts. For example, Pete Livesey was a member of the Bradford Pothole Club as he started to make a name for himself as a climber. The physical and psychological demands of each activity are not too dissimilar, but there’s no doubt in my mind that caving is still climbing’s ‘dirty little sibling’.

Dave’s caving career lasted a few years before he became too muscular to fit into small spaces. He was a member of the South Wales Caving Club and caved in Wales, Yorkshire, Derbyshire, the Mendips, France and Italy. In 1969 with Rod Mumford he made the second ever and first British descent of the Monte Cucco system in Central Italy which was at the time the 5th deepest cave in the world at 3050 feet deep (929m). The descent was made on the same day that Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon. He and Rod were simply over the moon, and possibly amongst the people who were further from Neil Armstrong than anyone else at that moment. At one time Dave and his caving mates were castigated in the caving press as members of ‘the lunatic fringe’. Nowadays he’d be happy to have a fringe at all.