To the end of Garrel

The Garrel was first mentioned to us by Jean Tarrit back in 2011. He told us of a sump that was at the end of a cave that the CLPA had been exploring for over 30 years. It’s a big, complex cave system and continues to lead dry passageway even today. However, what lay beyond the sump was a mystery to them, and could be the start of another significant area of the cave so he was keen for us to dive it. In 2012, Christine and Tim dived and laid 40m of line, finishing as the visibility was deteriorating. The sump had gone to a depth of 10m, and was heading up towards the surface at a depth of 4.5m at the end, so there was a good chance it would surface. 

We returned this year with thoughts of surfacing into new cave passageway, and were very excited to going back. It doesn’t seem too bad a dive, to be honest. 90m of distance, and 10m depth. How hard could it be? Well, the cave diving is the easy bit. You see the sump is 6 hours caving from the entrance. It isn’t particularly difficult caving, lots of short vertical climbs and descents, and a particularly big and confusing boulder choke in the middle of the trip. All of this needs to be done of course with the diving gear. Jean brings friends with him. They are never the same people, for some reason, so I can only assume he has a large pool of friends to draw from. 

We set off early that morning, and no less than 8 cavers showed up to help us. Jean was so excited, that he left all of his equipment at home and had to go back to get it. He caught us up a couple of hours into the trip. These helpers were young, fit and keen. At the start anyway!

I’ve been trying to find the report of the last trip here, but I can’t. I suspect that, in the way that you forget pain, the interwebs has decided that the report is too painful to be told. It just means I’ll have to recant the story here for you. (Edit: It's here: A Grand Day Out Chris ;-)) 
We climbed into the cave down a sloping, low bedding plane just steep enough for you to not have to work very hard. This is great on the way in, but I’m always mindful of how I might extract myself from such places. I slid down to the bottom, thinking about levitation techniques. From there on, it’s a mixture of short rope pitches. We used SRT equipment this time. In 2012 we neglected to bring any because it was a “short, easy trip”. 

After about an hour, or so, the large passageway stops at the base of a huge boulder choke. There are multiple ways into it. We’d become spread out over the cave due to the vertical pitches, and I found myself with a young french guy who spoke about as much English as I spoke French. You can make what you will of that, but essentially, unless we wanted to ask each other our respective names for the next few hours, and discussing whether there is a monkey in the tree or not.  Anyway, I digress. My new friend decided that the way on was up and to the left. Well, it was his cave so I followed him. Climbed up a squeeze little hole, and then to a vertical rope pitch. There was nobody there, and I figured that if this was the way on, then we would have caught up the other team at this point. I tried to explain that we needed to go back to the bottom of the boulders and wait. OK, he said, I went down, and he went up. Le singe est sur l’arbre. I got found by another of the party and tried to explain. I think we made some progress, and we shouted at friend 1 to come back, which he duly did. This whole escapade took us a good 45 minutes, and we headed on through the boulder choke and caught up again. 

More big rooms, vertical climbs and descents, a very precarious totter across a knife-edge of rock like something from Lord of the Rings, 6 hours and a spot of lunch later, we arrived at the sump. This was a beautiful sight. It had a gorgeous green hue to it, and we could see the line heading off into the depths. That was until I fell in kitting up. Brown soup from all of the fine silt was now covering the entrance. I just hoped it wouldn’t drift into the main cave. We were planning to survey this sump, so visibility was needed in order to do a decent job.

After some precarious balancing while gearing up, Christine and I set off into the sump. Chris went first, patching the line and looking around for the way on. I followed behind making the survey. 

Pretty little cave, although I didn’t get to see too much of it, focussed as I was on my compass and wet-notes. The passage went roughly North West, and I surveyed the length of the line, and having a quick discussion with Chris at the end to the effect of “it’s all boulder choked from here on” and that was sadly the end of the dive. 20 mins in, 20 out and we were back at the pool again. We had the survey, but no new cave unfortunately. This was a great shame, but to put it in perspective, we don’t have to carry 2 sets of diving gear 6 hours into the cave again. Hopefully the survey will point to a way on on the dry side of the cave. That’s where the CLPA come into their own, and they will make good use of the data, I’m sure. 

The reverse trip back to daylight (ok, it was 9pm and dark when we got out) was hard going. Bags seem to get heavier, the cave gets smaller, and the climbs more exposed. I guess it’s just the effects of concentrating for 12-13 hours. The levitation on the final slope back to fresh air worked as well as you’d expect, and I slithered my way back up, just like the “worm” dance move. But only with 20inches of vertical space.

It was an exhausting trip and we all suffered for it for the next 24 hours. We got beer, as always, in the local bar. Fortunately they have an outside terrace as we definitely wouldn’t have been allowed indoors. Our trip formally closed the next evening when we invited all of the team around to the campsite for a BBQ. Spare ribs, sausages, salad, beer, wine, vegetables, lamb chops and moules too was a lovely finish to the week. 

Thanks to Jean Tarrit for taking the photos!

Trashed gear after Garrel

Stunning Sorgues

Christine in the Sorgues, Aveyron. Photo: Richard Walker

The Event du Sorgues is one of my favourite resurgence flops in the area. The only problem is that it is too short!
It is about 220m long and ends in an impenetrable, vertical rift which is too tight to pass in any kit configuration.
This is desperately frustrating as it is the major resurgence for the mighty 'Mas Raynal', 4Km upstream.
It is, however, beautiful, with no access restrictions (despite having to practically drive through somebody's living room to get to a parking spot - don't take any vehicle bigger than a Berlingo!)
It is heavily managed with dams and weirs built in to presumably control the water which flows through the fish farm.
The water is cold, about 8 degrees and is almost always blue and clear.
I was intent on getting some photos here so we took the expensive camera kit, filled our cylinders, Rich gave me an impromptu lesson on his JJ CCR and just as my eyes began to glaze over, the bottles were ready and we went diving.

Chris in the Sorgues. Photo: Richard Walker

The Sorgues is geologically beautiful, with calcite ridges protruding from the floor and almost perfectly square passages with boulder strewn floors. Rippled sand catches the light as you swim mid passage, able to see your own shadow on the floor in the video lights.
The average depth is about 26m so you have just enough time to go to the 'end' and back within decompression limits. We were taking our time over photos and carrying a heavy tripod to mount the back-lights was a little tricky, so we didn't quite reach the end but we weren't far off when we turned for home.

Chris in the Sorgues, Aveyron. Photo Richard Walker

Chris in the Sorgues. Photo Richard Walker

Chris admiring the calcite 'ridge' in the Sorgues

Nice easy flop in a resurgence

Yesterday we went on a nice easy resurgence flop. The cave entrance is no more than 100m from the road. How hard could it be?

Trouble is, that 100m is about 20m horizontal, and 97m vertical. The cave was Gourneyras, in the Viz gorge. 20 minutes down a dirt track next to some breathtaking drop-offs where your front wheels are spitting stones off the side into oblivion, you come to a tree. Actually hundreds of trees. One of them marks the path down to the cave. You just have to know which tree. And we sort of did, and sort of didn't. The giveaway was the steel cable-run that had been set up to transport gear down to the pool. But we were too clever to look for that. An hour later we gave up the hunting and went down the right path for a quick look. The cave was right there where we left it in 2012.

There was only 2 of us, so we had travelled light. One twinset, one rebreather, 4 stages, drysuits, undersuits and some other bags of stuff. Christine went down the track and started setting up the handlines that we use to stop ourselves plummeting into the oblivion. This track has just about every type of terrain you can imagine. It starts with a steep gravel path, with some 2ft high rock steps to negotiate. Then it changes direction and traverses across the hill on a scree slope, which slips and slides under your feet. Then it goes into a gentle forest path, and you think that it isn't so bad. It's of course lulling you into a false sense of security. Next is a combination of steep mud path, brambles, eye level branches, ankle level knotweed, and some unstable pebbles. Then you break out into the sunshine again at the level of the river, and feel happy that your 100m decent is over and it must now get easier. Now the fear starts. There is a field of unstable, slippery, weed covered boulders, just right to break an ankle. You slither and slide over these and finally arrive at the pool. Which is truly delightful. It's sparkly blue, the sunshine lights it up and the entrance to the cave beckons they eye from a depth of 6m.

We chained the gear down the hill, 10m steps at a time, which was significantly easier we thought, than running up and down the hill 8 times. We got all the gear down to the pool in about 90 minutes, and were pleased with ourselves.

Gear assembled, camera checked and we were off. The 32C air temperature was oppressive, and it was great to get into the 13C water. We hung about on the surface for a few minutes just to relax and get that hot-and-bothered feeling gone, and then began our dive. The entrance is obvious at a depth of about 6m, and we dropped our decompression cylinders at 6m, and swam into the cave. It starts with a 45 degree, stepped drop into the cave. Lots of boulders and rocks are all around, and you soon come to the 21m dropoff, convenient for leaving the second decompression cylinders.

Now the cave gets interesting. There's a large circular room as you descend, almost impossible to see from one side to the other. The walls are white, but the place sucks up light. If you look back now, from a depth of about 40m, you see the blue entrance above you. More about that later. Now, you arrive on a pebble floor, and the passage turns sharply to the left, under a huge overhang.

You're now at about 50m depth, and in a passage like a railway tunnel. Bigger actually. It's probably 30m wide and 20m high. There are beautiful scalloped formations of the floor, sharp knives of rock 10m across on the floor, and air-clear visibility. Again, it's hard to see across the tunnel, and I had travel all over the cave tunnel to see it, and still didn't see it all! After about 10-15 minutes, it was time to turn, and I turned on the camera, lit the lights and started to shoot some stills. Light was getting sucked up and to get any sort of perspective was difficult. The thought of some new 4000 Lumen lights has started to hit my radar. Hope the bank manager isn't reading this...

I shot some half decent pictures of Christine, and by 30 minutes we were back at the corner to start heading back up the slope. Here is where you get your first real view of the entrance. 50m deep, looking uphill to a turquoise blue window into the fresh air. You can see the green trees around the pool, it's an amazing sight.

We worked our way up the slope, taking pictures, swapping cameras, managing the decompression for the next hour - way more time than we need, but it's a beautiful place, we had the gas, a camera and no pressing engagements that evening. After a 90 minute dive, we surfaced to some French ramblers, who informed us that they also dived there, and had we seen the view from 30m of the surface pool. They didn't offer to help us carry our gear back though, for some reason.

We got out of our gear, relaxed for half an hour and started the long haul back to the road. Only 100m away, most of it vertical, back through the ankle breakers, up the forest mud path, across the scree slope and up the stone steps. PFO test formally passed.

As the light faded, we realised we needed to make tracks if we wanted to eat that night. We headed to Laroque as they have a row of tourist trap restaurants. Takeaway pizza. But it was past 9pm when we got there. "Fini" came the reply from the chef. No discussion. We had spied a caravan that had "pizza" written on the side, a mile back down the road, so we headed back there, and to our delight, he cooked us 3, Yes 3, pizzas in about 20 minutes flat. Joy of Joy, he also sold us 2 Pelforth Blondes.

Life is good on a day like that!

The Bloody French Cave

Parking by the river Vis

The CLPA had been keen for the last few years for us to go and visit the Event de Cambon.
Frank Vasseur had dived the short, shallow sump about 20 years ago and to their knowledge, nobody had ever been back.
Now, even in his 20s Frank was no slouch. In fact, he was probably considerably fitter and harder than he is now. 
I did make a feeble protest that I couldn’t see what we would achieve that Frank could not, but it was information that the cavers wanted rather than caverns measureless. They were intent on digging down from the top of the gorge and this cave was important to them to know if it connected or not.
We said we would take a look.
According to the description, Frank had surfaced and immediately encountered several climbs which got higher and higher. As he was alone, he made a retreat.
Nobody knows what happened after that and Frank could not remember much about the cave at all.
The CLPA wanted us to survey the sump, the dry passage beyond and get a compass direction. 

Rich and Chris carrying gear

How hard could it be?
So, we met up in St Maurice de Navacelles to have coffee with our sherpas – or ‘slaves’ as Jean prefers to call them and picked up a Disto-X for surveying beyond the sump.
In convoy, we set off down the twisty hairpin bends of the Cirque de Navacelles and parked up at river level by the Vis. The walk to the cave entrance was relatively flat but about 800m.
Some enthusiastic deforestation then ensued as the French began clearing the snaggy branches and cleared away a grubby little cave entrance. It had filled with stones from the winter rains but by the time Rich and I had rigged our cylinders, the entrance was dug out again.
I went for a quick look inside.
Hmm. This was going to be a fun kitting up spot. Nowhere to stand up, nowhere really to sit. It was what we were used to in the UK but it was a long way to go to dive something like this in France. Oh well.
We passed the gear in to the cave and Rich went ahead and kitted up first. I remained just upslope of him, regularly kicking stones down at him while he thrashed about trying to get his fins on.
Frank’s old line was there but we needed to lay our own knotted line for surveying. The sump pool had gone to zero so surveying was looking less and less likely.
Once ready and crammed into the tiny muddy pool, we set off downslope through a squeeze with a rubble floor and sloping roof.
The sump was about 40m long as described and 7m deep. The water cleared after the squeeze and had better dimensions.

CLPA dig out the entrance to the Cambon

On surfacing, there was a near vertical rift – made of mud – and a ladder hanging down from above which was just out of reach and no means of getting to it. It looked as if Frank had dived the sump when water levels were somewhat higher.
Noses turned up, we returned to the start of the sump pool to report our findings. The viz had gone to zero and not good enough for a proper survey.
Then, as if our failure was not enough, then began the thunder. Torrential rain and thunder and lightening crashed all around us and the Cirque de Navacelles while we tried to pack our gear up.

Chris kits up

Rich and I elected to walk back in our wetsuits as our clothes were sodden.
We got back to the van and took it in turns to get into the back and change. It was miserable and getting colder.
Jean invited everyone back to his house for a welcome cup of tea and to dry out a little. We made it up to ourselves by watching the video we shot of the new passage in the Perdreau.
Jean was in danger of having a power cut, so we headed back to our campsite to inspect the damage.
Water had infiltrated the front porch of the tent, which was not entirely unexpected and Rich had already moved electrical items to higher ground that morning.
Water had also infiltrated Rich’s Rude Nora caving torch battery which was now no longer working. Meh.
We decided to drown our sorrows in a local pizzeria – but each and every single restaurant in the region were closed. So, back to the campsite for a tin of sausage and beans and leffe beer. We’ve had better days, but that’s the nature of cave diving. It ain’t sun and stalictites all the time.

Rich kitting up in the sump

Chris kits up on dry land

Chris hands Rich his helmet

Rich sorts his reel

Chris sets off into the sump

Into the Blue...

Rich in Perdreau sump 1

Today was an excellent day - but not without a few teething troubles to get around first.
I picked up a missed call from one of my work colleagues, who was asking where I was. France, was the reply. It seems the great shift screw up had raised its ugly head again, but I doubt I have much to worry about as I am certain I booked this leave. In fact, I booked it in January. So, I tried to forget about it and concentrate on the cave diving.
We headed up to the cave and Jean had brought more friends along to help us. They were practising their SRT in the cave which seemed as good a reason as any to come along. 

Pitch in Perdreau

Rich and I dropped the pitch and started to get our gear together. Next problem, Rich finds the team spare mask has shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. It had been in a pocket on one of the harnesses and not protected by a French Pot and had somehow got broken. Never mind. We can live without it and we have another anyway.
The sump is blue and inviting. I get the camera ready and Jean and friends watch us set off into sump 1, before heading out to the sunshine to await our arrival. We tell them we will be 2 hours at most.
Surfacing in the airbell shortly after passing sump 1, Rich and I can't really get our act together and we soon notice a little panting going on. Carbon dioxide. Great.
We take things slowly and rig the ladder, before hauling the 12 litre bottles up and getting everything into sump 2.

Arianne abseiling

Kitting up in sump 2 was fairly easy this time around and I get ready with the camera. We have a plan to shoot some video of the sump, especially our discoveries from 2011 and 2012. We don't hope for much as it is a small, fiddly sump covered in powder-like silt. But we gave it a go.
We get shooting and with plenty of time and gas, get to photograph and film everything we want to.
Then, we had one last job to do.
There was one bit of a chamber left to explore. I had always had a feeling there was more to it than just a boulder pile. So, I dispatch Rich off to take a quick look and a minute later he returned to say it was "Going".
Woo hoo!

Sump 1 Perdreau

Rich kitting up

Line reel tied in and I sieze the (rare!) opportunity to film exploration in progress.
Rich swam along with his reel and made some nice tie offs and the cave started to head downslope in a fractured, friable passage. It was sculptured and pretty and the water ahead was azure blue.

Chris kitting up in sump 1

Behind Rich it was patchy, rust red and bits and pieces rained down from the roof as the first bubbles ever disturbed the rock.
As the visibility went to zero, I paused at 24m and heard Rich scratching around. I figured he wouldn't be long and steadily, hand over hand on the line, fumbled my way back to the tie off with Rich just behind me. 
Happy, we thumbed the dive and had a pleasant swim home in patchy visibility. I stopped to photograph a worm, the type I had not seen before in a sump.

Surfacing back at the airbell, we de-kitted, pleased with the days work. 
Not surprisingly, after a recent chest infection and a cold, I had some trouble descending back into sump 2 to get home. Fortunately my bottle of trusty Otravine got me to depth but wasn't keen on getting my sinuses back up again.

Chris and Rich talk cameras

It's a divers worst nightmare (well, one of them anyway) and despite hanging around on the way up trying to get my sinuses to let go, it was obvious I was going to get a reverse block.
I did and it hurt a lot, making my eyes water and temporarily blind. Rich took my bottles off and I eventually heard the relieving squeak, followed by some blood and the pain subsided. Not pleasant.
Jean was at the top of the pitch waiting for us as we surfaced. He was worried as we were half an hour overdue. This was probably due to our taking our time in the CO2 ridden airbell. We apologised for worrying him but he didn't mind and we showed him our photos to cheer him up.
A gang of cavers had showed up to help carry all the gear back in one run, including a very small child who was lugging 2 tackle bags and going better up the hill than I was!
A cold beer in St Jean de Bueges followed by pizza in Laroque seemed a fitting end to a very pleasant day, all things considered. Finally things are going our way.

Chris kits up

Rich at the 2011 junction

Chris and Rich get ready to dive

Rich in the 2011 passage

Rich in the 2011 passage, Perdreau

Rich descends into the passage he and Christine found in 2012

2012 passage which descends to 34m

Worm in sump 2 Perdreau

Perdreau set-up day

I decided that embarking on Garrel today would be a silly move. Still with remains of a chest infection, the caving trip, though moderate, is quite long and I am still quite weak, so we decided that the Perdreau-Fourmi was a more pleasant option.

Dragon flies at the Source de Bueges

True to form, Jean Tarrit rallied a few friends from his club and they arrived to help us carry our gear in two journeys up the riverbed. 
I headed through the entrance squeeze and into the cave to start rigging the 45 degree slope and 15m pitch to the sump pool. 

Fairy lights at camp centrale

I decided to bring walkie talkies this time and was quite surprised that I was able to communicate from the sump pool to the surface! 
Job done in a few hours, I headed over to the Source de Bueges, which sadly cannot be dived. Some pretty dragon flies were in residence.
We had some nice cold pressions at the local watering hole in St Jean-de-Bueges and headed back to the campsite to sort out cameras and have dinner.

Mr Bricolage, Bungee and Fairy lights...

I still sound like an asthmatic donkey..improving, but not fast enough for Garrel this Saturday. It is 8 hours of honest caving with diving gear and I'm just not well enough to do it justice.
So, I called Jean last night and we agreed to put the trip back until the 13th. Hopefully I will be bouncing around like Tigger by then. Hopefully.
The Event de Fourmi Perdreau however is a much easier trip. It is still time consuming, but it is more familiar to us and the hardest part is on the surface getting kit to the entrance. We opted for this instead on Saturday.

Knotting line. My favourite.....

Meanwhile, at camp centrale I have been getting complaints that 'It's just not the same without the fairy lights'.
I usually bring a string of outdoor fairy lights to drape around the pitch. It makes it look pretty and also helps us to see in the dark. 
We didn't have any this year so we headed off to Mr Bricolage in search of fairy lights and some bungee for our sidemount harnesses. The bungee was getting a little old, pathetic and in one instance, missing altogether.
We found the bungee OK, reeled off 5m and cut it ourselves - only to get told off at the till.
Then we asked for fairy lights. Hmm. The ones on offer were quite expensive outdoor lights a little OTT for the tent.
Once at the till getting dirty looks from the cashier wench, the shop floor woman comes trotting over to us waving some lanterns on a string. They'll do!
Then we tried to find some mozzy repellent as we are being eaten alive...
We then tried to find a nice little swimming beach for lunch, but unfortunately headed the wrong way up the Herault river towards Le Vigan. The river was shallow and grubby, so we headed back nearer the campsite and went wild swimming further downstream.
Well, I say wild swimming. We did one width of the Herault river, dodging lovely blue dragon flies and trout everywhere.
My lungs screamed in protest at being plunged into cold water and the wheezing donkey was back. 

Back 'home' and Rich has cooked a lovely spag bol. 
Our sum achievement in the last 2 days has been getting gear ready for Garrel - then undoing half of it and getting it ready for Perdreau. 
Let's hope for better luck this weekend.....

The seven hour lunch....

We arrived at the camp site in one piece yesterday. The tents are up (one for us, one for the gear....) and shopping done.
I'm still sick with some sort of chest infection off the back of a cold, so today we tried to take it easy.
I had a phone call from my good friend Jean Tarrit to tell us he was coming to our campsite and we were to have lunch at his house in Larzac to discuss plans for the two weeks.

Fuelled with coffee and coughing like a donkey with asthma, I was driven via some stunning scenery to Larzac - the long way round as the Gourney's are closed for repair work in the Vis gorge.
The drive took ages but we finally met up with Jean and headed to his house.
It was a beautiful, typically French rustic country home with big beams and huge fireplaces. 
We were spoiled from the outset with several courses, including crevettes (shrimp), magret de canard, sautee potatoes, salad, bread, cheese, tarte au poire and a 12 year old Bordeaux.
Many hours later we went for a short wander to take a look at the view over the Larzac plateau which is cave hunting heaven.
Back at the house, we discussed the geology of the caves we were pushing, fault line directions and made plans for the week. Rich let out the occasional snore as he nodded in the armchair.

The plan is to go back to Garrel on Saturday but this depends on me being well enough and we can put it back a week if we need to. 

Herault 2014 here we come.....

Well, almost......

We gave last year a miss, due to a haphazard team and being fairly disorganised re not at all ready, ourselves.
We're back this year to take a look at the end of the caves we pushed in 2012 and to maybe take a peek at some new ones the French cavers are promising us.
Our team has disintegrated - owing mainly to half of them doing responsible things like getting jobs and going to university - and Rich and I buying a house together, which meant that I wasn't exactly forthcoming on getting the trip 'out there'. 

It matters not however, as Rich and I are owed some quality time. The fact that quality time will be underwater and covered in mud, is by the by.......
We'll be met by the usual French suspects and I am very much looking forward to catching up with Jean and the gang - they always greet us like long lost friends.

Preparation began yesterday when I did a 9.5 hour round trip (not even a whole ambulance shift!!) to the Peak District to collect the CDG Derbyshire Section compressor. Last years comrade Tim Webber thankfully showed up to help me carry it up the hill to my van. 

Rich is conveniently abroad and will not show up until the day of our departure....
So today, I spent a lot of time in the garage trying to find things and make them work.
First off was the 'exploratory box'. This is a very important box.
It contains line reels, complete with knotted line which magically knots itself all afternoon at 3m intervals and has tags every 10m. It also has snoopy loops, line markers, compasses, wetnotes, waterproof pencils and so on.

Now, nobody likes a floppy helmet. Least of all Rich, who has been moaning and whining about his floppy red helmet for over a year now.
So I bought him a new one. 
Well, I actually first of all tried to glue the offending part where the cradle had snapped off, but I was concerned that after a week or so of sump bashing it may go back to how it was before = more whinging.

So, I took to the drill, made some holes - and some mistakes - but got there in the end.
One shiny new helmet. Anything for a quiet life.......