Caving, potholing, claustrophobia, etc
Discussion
Been caving a few times, to the same complex, and have had to crawl along on my elbows to get through some of the sections - with your back just scraping the top, there's not a hope of turning around, although reversal is possible in parts.
I enjoyed it, and stalactites are amazing things to see.
Haven't tried potholing yet, but I would given the opportunity
I enjoyed it, and stalactites are amazing things to see.
Haven't tried potholing yet, but I would given the opportunity
mybrainhurts said:
My grandfather was a keen potholer. Took my mother down when she was a little 'un...
She wasn't impressed...
Your grandfather you say. Must have been harder in them days, what with all the dinosaur flesh still being soft and squishy and not stone like it is these daysShe wasn't impressed...
Cock Womble 7 said:
Waugh-terfall said:
but then I watched some episode of 'SuperTed'
Woah, hang on. An episode of the popular children's cartoon "SuperTed" put you off pot-holing?Really?
prand said:
The OP has done much, much more than I would ever be interested in.
Not really. Story 1 was about exploring drains near my home, borderline laughable looking back, no where near as thrilling or scary as some of the stories posted so far. Id put myself near the bottom of the list of regular folk when it comes to this type of bravery, but have noted I continually YouTube and google up the material out of keen interest. Like snakes, hate them but can't get enough of reading about them, type thing.
Ayahuasca said:
ApexJimi said:
there's not a hope of turning around, although reversal is possible in parts.
See, that is what would put me right off. And what if someone gets stuck behind you?That said, in my case I was always the last, and I had implicit trust in the guy in front of me (my best mate) that he'd not lead us into a situation we couldn't remove ourselves from. You are constantly assessing the situation, so you don't end up crawling into a space that traps you.
A rock collapse, however.....
Caving is one of those things that if you sat and pondered all the "what if's", you'd probably terrify yourself. Although, I guess the same could be said of most things - I can't be the only person to have thought about having catastrophic brake failure at speed?
Edited by ApexJimi on Friday 6th January 20:19
Mobsta said:
prand said:
The OP has done much, much more than I would ever be interested in.
Not really. Story 1 was about exploring drains near my home, borderline laughable looking back, no where near as thrilling or scary as some of the stories posted so far. Id put myself near the bottom of the list of regular folk when it comes to this type of bravery, but have noted I continually YouTube and google up the material out of keen interest. Like snakes, hate them but can't get enough of reading about them, type thing.
When I was 13ish. Our school year went to the Brecon Beacons for a week. Climbed that mountain (Pen Y fan) the SAS use for selection. Saw many sheep, went to the local pub 
then we had the choice Canoeing, Rock Climbing or Potholing. Rock Climbing was way over subscribed, I wasn't keen on the idea of drowning in a capsised canoe as I couldn't right it. So ended up going undergorund with a slightly mental welsh lady who taught us what faecetious meant
Looking back now, 20 years on. How the f
k I didn't panic like a mofo I have no clue. We went to one of the disused coal pits later in the week and felt like a big man as the others all cacked it being is a "tight" place
then we had the choice Canoeing, Rock Climbing or Potholing. Rock Climbing was way over subscribed, I wasn't keen on the idea of drowning in a capsised canoe as I couldn't right it. So ended up going undergorund with a slightly mental welsh lady who taught us what faecetious meant Looking back now, 20 years on. How the f
k I didn't panic like a mofo I have no clue. We went to one of the disused coal pits later in the week and felt like a big man as the others all cacked it being is a "tight" place Ayahuasca said:
When I was training to be in the TA paras we were shown over various types of holes in the ground that had been dug by some Royal Egineers. There was one that was some kind of bunker that was a very long narrow passage that led to a small underground chamber.
The Directing Staff thought it would be a good laugh to see how many of us they could squeeze into it. Being full of youthful enthusiasm and stupidity I was the first into the shoulder wide, shoulder tall tunnel. I was followed by around thirty or forty blokes into a space big enough for maybe fifteen, squashed against the wall at the far end, and still they kept shoving men in because they couldn't see how squashed we were up front. My arms were pressed to my sides, there was no way of moving and it was hard to breathe. The sense of trying to control panic and knowing you are on the verge of screaming like a girl is not nice at all.
Still gives me the heeby-jeebies thinking about it.
I can't read anything further than this in the thread. That has made me feel awful.The Directing Staff thought it would be a good laugh to see how many of us they could squeeze into it. Being full of youthful enthusiasm and stupidity I was the first into the shoulder wide, shoulder tall tunnel. I was followed by around thirty or forty blokes into a space big enough for maybe fifteen, squashed against the wall at the far end, and still they kept shoving men in because they couldn't see how squashed we were up front. My arms were pressed to my sides, there was no way of moving and it was hard to breathe. The sense of trying to control panic and knowing you are on the verge of screaming like a girl is not nice at all.
Still gives me the heeby-jeebies thinking about it.
Ayahuasca said:
ApexJimi said:
there's not a hope of turning around, although reversal is possible in parts.
See, that is what would put me right off. And what if someone gets stuck behind you?I refer to the tiny tunnel which could only be passed through by slithering on ones belly, the one I mentioned which seemed as if it was filled up with sand. Now sand doesn't pour and flow and fill up on top of you as in the movies, but the fear at the time was that the sand felt like rising water in a very, very confined space.
Out of the five of us, I'm pretty sure there were two ahead and two behind. I was a teenager and seem to remember being placed in the middle, for safeties sake. Admittedly, the sand filled tunnel wasn't so narrow that I had to turn my head to squeeze along as someone else posed/experienced, but there was absolutely no way of turning around, climbing over or reversing back and passing anyone.
It was probably the wind blowing through the tunnel (up in the mountains) which made my mind equate the sand filled tunnel to a flooding crawlspace and the fact that I had people both in front of and behind me (2 sets of people either way) which - with just a single spare foot in front and behind - made the imaginary feeling of the 'rising sand' all the worse.
I can definitely relate to the rising panic that makes you want to scream out like a girl, the fear is that if you do, everyone will die
... The same applied when half way through someone asked if I was OK. Why ask if I'm OK, unless you know something I don't know, like we are all about to die.Forever afterwards, I wondered why a team didnt bail the sand out with buckets and ropes so other naive pothers wouldn't feel the tunnel was flooding to the roof with sand, but then that's just life and a part of that system I suppose.
Memories as a kid include loving/hating the claustrophobia of slithering under my parents bed between various objects and taking turns with my sister to roll each other up tightly in blankets, arms pinned to our sides, to the point we can't move, another activity which was somehow vaguely fun but scary in it's own way.
The trouble with pothing in this country can be the weather. It rains heavily on Friday night. The weekend is sunny and dry. Monday is also sunny, the day you and your chums explore a new system, to coincide with the rainwaters making their way to the sea, starting to flood the tunnels you are in just hours after you started your descent (so I was told). You need to check last weeks weather before committing.
Yeah, like fI swear I've had nightmares about having to do the crawl to 'freedom' from then end of the Shawshank Redemption. I think my worst nightmare is going into some pipe which is not big enough to turn around in and not knowing what's coming up due to the dark. Imagine falling head first down an incline whilst inside into water or something!
I used to do a lot of caving at University and a lot of old mine exploring in my 20s. I hadn't been for about 15 years until October last year when the following happened:
On Friday October 14th my dad and I had gone to the Minllyn slate mine in Dinas Mawddy in Wales. We were there to check some measurements for an archeological survey my dad had taken part in the summer. We had finished our checks and were making our way out via an iclined shaft that my dad had been up and down in the summer. I had managed to climb up and out ok but my dad was having difficulty as there was a small stream running down the shaft that made it very slippery. It got to the point that we decided it was too risky for him (he's 79) and that we would go back down and out via a partly flooded tunnel. It was at that point that he slipped and fell/slid down the shaft, hitting a pile of loose slate at the bottom and flipping over.
I shouted down to him and could see he was moving but couldn't hear him when I asked if he was ok. (He had in fact broken his left foot in many places) I set off back down the shaft to help him but almost immediately fell too, sliding down on my back and luckily missed crashing into my dad and overshot him to land further down the jumbled slope of loose slate rocks.
The silence was broken only by the sound of my helmet and torch as they continued to bounce down the slope towards a lake in the bottom of the cavern. I asked my dad if he was ok and he said he was mostly good but his foot hurt. My back hurt like hell but I experimented moving various bits and they all seemed to be working. I had in fact broken my back in 2 places and my foot in 3 places. We waited a couple of minutes to take stock of our situation and to see if the pain got better or worse. I was moving to try and get into a more comfortable position, but without success and was slipping further down the slope with each movement. We were both in pain but could still move and there was no mobile signal obviously. We could wait there, but we would rapidly get cold and it would be dark outside in a couple of hours reducing the chance of a rescue which might take days to come, or we could try and make our way out. Thankfully one trait I have inherited from my dad is to keep calm in dire situations. So the general feeling was of deep concern rather than panic. We decided to make a try to exit the mine by descending deeper into the cavern to reach a tunnel that would lead straight out but was flooded to just under waist height with water.
The descent was slow and painful as you can imagine, and I was hampered by not having a light, but fortunately my dad still had his powerful caplamp and was able to help light my way down. We eventually reached the bottom of the slope and the beginning of the tunnel at which point I had to stand up. This was for both of us the most painful bit, having to put our full weight momentarily onto our broken left foot for each step. As the water got deeper it actually got easier as buoyancy helped ease the weight and the cold water helped numb the feet and reduce to onset of swelling. We slowly sploshed our way along the tunnel our progress punctuated by pained 'ooh's and 'ahh's mixed in with the occasional whispered curse when the uneven footing caused particular agony.
When we reached the point where we could literally see the light at the end of the tunnel, I knew we would be get out ok. Once on the surface I tried my mobile phone which said no signal, but I tried 999 anyway as I knew that emergency signal coverage is sometimes available when normal signal is not. The relief when it started to ring was immense and within seconds I was being asked which emergency service I required. I said we needed mountain rescue and ambulance, but operator seemed unfamiliar with the term mountain rescue so I tried to explain our predicament but was cut off. I rang again, different operator this time and began the same explanation but again was cut off. We decided to move further out from the entrance onto the hillside to get a better signal and this time were able to stay connected. Fortunately my dad knew the area well so was able to describe our location accurately. They hung up with the message that help is on it's way, which may sound cliched but is exactly what you want to hear if you ever find yourself in that sort of situation, and was very comforting.
Within half an hour we heard the sound of a siren in the valley and shortly afterwards got a call from the paramedics. My dad was again able to talk them to the location of our car on a forestry track, from which a rocky path lead steeply up to the mine. It must have been a fair old slog up for the paramedics, loaded down as they were with equipment, so it took them another half hour to get up to us. It was a great relief to be found as I was still in a lot of pain. They asked us about our injuries and what had happened. We explained and as we did so they strapped me to a spinal board which would become my home for the next few hours. Having assessed the situation they called for an Air Sea Rescue helicopter from Angelsea. They also set about cutting up most of my clothing in order to check my injuries before wrapping me in bacofoil and blankets and giving me a shot of morphine.
It was dark by the time the helicopter arrived, and during the wait we had spent a lot of time speculating if the pilot would be Prince William? First to be winched up was one of the paramedics, followed by my dad who was classified as walking wounded. Finally they lowered the basket and transferred me to it. The first attempt to lift was aborted as the basket was tipping backwards and I was slipping out headfirst. They rejigged the straps and tried a 2nd time, but shortly after lifting off the ground we slammed hard into a rockface. Fortunately the basket bore the brunt of the impact, but it did set us into a wicked spin which slowed as they winched us up. Finally I was pulled into the helicopter's fuselage, the door was shut and I finally began to warm up a bit as we headed to the hospital in Bangor.
We inquired after the identity of the pilot, but were told it wasn't Capt Wales. We were however told that it had been one of their toughest rescues. The mine had formed a natural amphitheatre in the hillside, and with no wind they had found themselves having to hover in their own dirty air hence the slightly bumpy ascent. The dark had also added to the difficulty.
We were soon landing at Bangor and treated for hypothermia, fitted with IV drips, topped up with morphine and sent off for x-rays. It was only at this point that we discovered the extent of our injuries. There then followed a couple of very difficult days for me as I was in constant pain and immobilised flat on my back for 48hrs.
The help we got from everyone involved was fantastic, from the calm and reassuring paramedics, to the skill of the air sea rescue crew and the care and attention from the hospital staff, all of it was absolutely top notch. I went back to work for the first time today. I also found out when I got home that my wife is pregnant. So I will definitely not be going back underground!
On Friday October 14th my dad and I had gone to the Minllyn slate mine in Dinas Mawddy in Wales. We were there to check some measurements for an archeological survey my dad had taken part in the summer. We had finished our checks and were making our way out via an iclined shaft that my dad had been up and down in the summer. I had managed to climb up and out ok but my dad was having difficulty as there was a small stream running down the shaft that made it very slippery. It got to the point that we decided it was too risky for him (he's 79) and that we would go back down and out via a partly flooded tunnel. It was at that point that he slipped and fell/slid down the shaft, hitting a pile of loose slate at the bottom and flipping over.
I shouted down to him and could see he was moving but couldn't hear him when I asked if he was ok. (He had in fact broken his left foot in many places) I set off back down the shaft to help him but almost immediately fell too, sliding down on my back and luckily missed crashing into my dad and overshot him to land further down the jumbled slope of loose slate rocks.
The silence was broken only by the sound of my helmet and torch as they continued to bounce down the slope towards a lake in the bottom of the cavern. I asked my dad if he was ok and he said he was mostly good but his foot hurt. My back hurt like hell but I experimented moving various bits and they all seemed to be working. I had in fact broken my back in 2 places and my foot in 3 places. We waited a couple of minutes to take stock of our situation and to see if the pain got better or worse. I was moving to try and get into a more comfortable position, but without success and was slipping further down the slope with each movement. We were both in pain but could still move and there was no mobile signal obviously. We could wait there, but we would rapidly get cold and it would be dark outside in a couple of hours reducing the chance of a rescue which might take days to come, or we could try and make our way out. Thankfully one trait I have inherited from my dad is to keep calm in dire situations. So the general feeling was of deep concern rather than panic. We decided to make a try to exit the mine by descending deeper into the cavern to reach a tunnel that would lead straight out but was flooded to just under waist height with water.
The descent was slow and painful as you can imagine, and I was hampered by not having a light, but fortunately my dad still had his powerful caplamp and was able to help light my way down. We eventually reached the bottom of the slope and the beginning of the tunnel at which point I had to stand up. This was for both of us the most painful bit, having to put our full weight momentarily onto our broken left foot for each step. As the water got deeper it actually got easier as buoyancy helped ease the weight and the cold water helped numb the feet and reduce to onset of swelling. We slowly sploshed our way along the tunnel our progress punctuated by pained 'ooh's and 'ahh's mixed in with the occasional whispered curse when the uneven footing caused particular agony.
When we reached the point where we could literally see the light at the end of the tunnel, I knew we would be get out ok. Once on the surface I tried my mobile phone which said no signal, but I tried 999 anyway as I knew that emergency signal coverage is sometimes available when normal signal is not. The relief when it started to ring was immense and within seconds I was being asked which emergency service I required. I said we needed mountain rescue and ambulance, but operator seemed unfamiliar with the term mountain rescue so I tried to explain our predicament but was cut off. I rang again, different operator this time and began the same explanation but again was cut off. We decided to move further out from the entrance onto the hillside to get a better signal and this time were able to stay connected. Fortunately my dad knew the area well so was able to describe our location accurately. They hung up with the message that help is on it's way, which may sound cliched but is exactly what you want to hear if you ever find yourself in that sort of situation, and was very comforting.
Within half an hour we heard the sound of a siren in the valley and shortly afterwards got a call from the paramedics. My dad was again able to talk them to the location of our car on a forestry track, from which a rocky path lead steeply up to the mine. It must have been a fair old slog up for the paramedics, loaded down as they were with equipment, so it took them another half hour to get up to us. It was a great relief to be found as I was still in a lot of pain. They asked us about our injuries and what had happened. We explained and as we did so they strapped me to a spinal board which would become my home for the next few hours. Having assessed the situation they called for an Air Sea Rescue helicopter from Angelsea. They also set about cutting up most of my clothing in order to check my injuries before wrapping me in bacofoil and blankets and giving me a shot of morphine.
It was dark by the time the helicopter arrived, and during the wait we had spent a lot of time speculating if the pilot would be Prince William? First to be winched up was one of the paramedics, followed by my dad who was classified as walking wounded. Finally they lowered the basket and transferred me to it. The first attempt to lift was aborted as the basket was tipping backwards and I was slipping out headfirst. They rejigged the straps and tried a 2nd time, but shortly after lifting off the ground we slammed hard into a rockface. Fortunately the basket bore the brunt of the impact, but it did set us into a wicked spin which slowed as they winched us up. Finally I was pulled into the helicopter's fuselage, the door was shut and I finally began to warm up a bit as we headed to the hospital in Bangor.
We inquired after the identity of the pilot, but were told it wasn't Capt Wales. We were however told that it had been one of their toughest rescues. The mine had formed a natural amphitheatre in the hillside, and with no wind they had found themselves having to hover in their own dirty air hence the slightly bumpy ascent. The dark had also added to the difficulty.
We were soon landing at Bangor and treated for hypothermia, fitted with IV drips, topped up with morphine and sent off for x-rays. It was only at this point that we discovered the extent of our injuries. There then followed a couple of very difficult days for me as I was in constant pain and immobilised flat on my back for 48hrs.
The help we got from everyone involved was fantastic, from the calm and reassuring paramedics, to the skill of the air sea rescue crew and the care and attention from the hospital staff, all of it was absolutely top notch. I went back to work for the first time today. I also found out when I got home that my wife is pregnant. So I will definitely not be going back underground!
Edited by Caruso on Friday 6th January 21:58
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