Tom Falardeau
April 5th, 2007, 10:24 PM
As I write this post, the 2007 Spring Cave Trip for Marie and me is over. And just as I was getting into the groove of things. All we have to look for tonight, as we digest a large Floyd's meal is the 2,300km trip home. And a summer cave diving in Canada :D :D
This morning, Marie was feeling queasy as we got our fills at Amigo's and made our way to Little River. The air temperature was a good 20 degrees fahrenheit less than yesterday, with a solid overcast, leading me to believe that the brat-parade would stay home, leaving Little River to the people with the funny get-ups (i.e. the cave divers). When we got there, two teams were getting ready to dive, and one young man was trying to fish in the basin - he'd have been more likely to hook a diver than a fish, but his 20 pound test line wouldn't have survived.
Marie smiled crookedly at me and informed me that she wasn't feeling up to a dive, but I should feel free to go by myself. Well, being a sidemounter carrying my own reserves of gas, being knowledgeable of the cave and the techniques, I fairly jumped at the occasion to dive free of the fetters of a team. (Kids, don't try this unless you are trained, equipped and have the right frame of mind - solo cave diving, even in sidemount configuration, is not as safe as team diving).
It took me but 90 seconds to get down, run my primary reel to the gold line and head into the cave. Already, being by myself, operating at my speed was feeling kinda..... ummm.... nice. I figured I'd take it easy but I was moving so well by myself that I did the Serpentine-Merry Go Round circuit, checking out each small hole for penetration potential and a line. By the time I completed the circuit, I saw another line leading into the Catacombs (which Marie and I explored in part earlier this week). Quickly recalculated my thirds on both tanks, put in a jump and marker and off I went. At the first "T" junction, I took the left, leaving a clothepin on the line leading towards my jump. I soon hit another "T", with an arrow pointing towards the first "T", so I didn't mark this one with one of my markers. I hung a right and went until I hit my recalculated penetration gas and turned. It was sexy, silty, tight sidemount tunnel, the rock looking almost untouched, thin and darn near pristine. You could tell very few divers went down this way, and then only those equipped and skilled enough to minimize environmental impact. That thought really forces you to make that extra effort to not touch anything (although at times I was happy to be wearing my helmet), so as to live up to the expectation of doing no harm. I was pleased to note that I didn't cause any major silt stirs and my tanks did not impact anything. From my turning the exploration of the catacombs to my reaching the Chimney, it seemed like the dive went by too fast. Just for some fun, after rising up the Chimney to the 60ft mark, I turned off my primary light and moved only with the 1 watt LED light on my helmet. Gave me a whole new appreciation of the cave. I was stunned to see how far in you could see daylight.... from dozens of feet down from the Gold Line tie-in. From there, it was a quick retrieval of my primary reel, then my deco bottle and a 9 minute deco stop. I surfaced at exactly 60 minutes run-time, which was what I'd told Marie to expect before I went down.
Marie was feeling better in the afternoon and we did our final dive of the trip in Ginnie - just a relaxed run up the Parallel Lines and a gentle drift back, sticking our nose in every little hole. It was during that dive that I realized how beaten up Devil's was - compared to more pristine caves. Broken off rock everywhere, worn down edges, etc. Even the small holes bore marks on the ceiling where uncaring backmounters tried to force their way in. It was a sobering dive with respect to the notion of cave conservation - all this time and it took a morning of diving almost pristine tunnel compared to an afternoon of battered cave to make me realize the full impact divers are having on the cave. That impact was reinforced when we met a pair of divers between the Lips and the Keyhole who not only got separated to the degree that they would be utterly unable to help each other, but whose skills in navigating the cave were, to put it mildly, pathetic.
It was a great trip to cave country, with plenty of revelations.
a) I will never cave dive backmount again. Sidemount is safer, easier on the body and better for cave conservation. Someone once made the argument that sidemounters have to manage two spgs and manage gas between two independent tanks. Well, as a wise person said to me, if you can't do that kind of simple gas management, you have no business in a cave in the first place.
b) The human impact on caves is immeasurably greater than we are aware... even a simple bubble stream can damage the cave, let alone hands, fins and banging tanks. Not enough emphasis is put on cave conservation - too many cave divers seem to come to the sport with that "I've been xx feet into the cave, yay me" mentality
c) The most travelled caves are the least interesting. You want cave diving, do Pea**** 3, not Pea**** 1.
d) Serving sizes in US restaurants are too big. Eating in the room is cheap and lets you manage your own serving sizes.
e) Support the smaller players in the cave diving game, like Amigo's and Dive Outpost - the service is friendlier, better and the fills are done to order.
So, that was that. Eighteen cave dives in 11 days. Each and every one of them were memorable, now that we no longer obsess about penetration distance or hugging the gold line.
This morning, Marie was feeling queasy as we got our fills at Amigo's and made our way to Little River. The air temperature was a good 20 degrees fahrenheit less than yesterday, with a solid overcast, leading me to believe that the brat-parade would stay home, leaving Little River to the people with the funny get-ups (i.e. the cave divers). When we got there, two teams were getting ready to dive, and one young man was trying to fish in the basin - he'd have been more likely to hook a diver than a fish, but his 20 pound test line wouldn't have survived.
Marie smiled crookedly at me and informed me that she wasn't feeling up to a dive, but I should feel free to go by myself. Well, being a sidemounter carrying my own reserves of gas, being knowledgeable of the cave and the techniques, I fairly jumped at the occasion to dive free of the fetters of a team. (Kids, don't try this unless you are trained, equipped and have the right frame of mind - solo cave diving, even in sidemount configuration, is not as safe as team diving).
It took me but 90 seconds to get down, run my primary reel to the gold line and head into the cave. Already, being by myself, operating at my speed was feeling kinda..... ummm.... nice. I figured I'd take it easy but I was moving so well by myself that I did the Serpentine-Merry Go Round circuit, checking out each small hole for penetration potential and a line. By the time I completed the circuit, I saw another line leading into the Catacombs (which Marie and I explored in part earlier this week). Quickly recalculated my thirds on both tanks, put in a jump and marker and off I went. At the first "T" junction, I took the left, leaving a clothepin on the line leading towards my jump. I soon hit another "T", with an arrow pointing towards the first "T", so I didn't mark this one with one of my markers. I hung a right and went until I hit my recalculated penetration gas and turned. It was sexy, silty, tight sidemount tunnel, the rock looking almost untouched, thin and darn near pristine. You could tell very few divers went down this way, and then only those equipped and skilled enough to minimize environmental impact. That thought really forces you to make that extra effort to not touch anything (although at times I was happy to be wearing my helmet), so as to live up to the expectation of doing no harm. I was pleased to note that I didn't cause any major silt stirs and my tanks did not impact anything. From my turning the exploration of the catacombs to my reaching the Chimney, it seemed like the dive went by too fast. Just for some fun, after rising up the Chimney to the 60ft mark, I turned off my primary light and moved only with the 1 watt LED light on my helmet. Gave me a whole new appreciation of the cave. I was stunned to see how far in you could see daylight.... from dozens of feet down from the Gold Line tie-in. From there, it was a quick retrieval of my primary reel, then my deco bottle and a 9 minute deco stop. I surfaced at exactly 60 minutes run-time, which was what I'd told Marie to expect before I went down.
Marie was feeling better in the afternoon and we did our final dive of the trip in Ginnie - just a relaxed run up the Parallel Lines and a gentle drift back, sticking our nose in every little hole. It was during that dive that I realized how beaten up Devil's was - compared to more pristine caves. Broken off rock everywhere, worn down edges, etc. Even the small holes bore marks on the ceiling where uncaring backmounters tried to force their way in. It was a sobering dive with respect to the notion of cave conservation - all this time and it took a morning of diving almost pristine tunnel compared to an afternoon of battered cave to make me realize the full impact divers are having on the cave. That impact was reinforced when we met a pair of divers between the Lips and the Keyhole who not only got separated to the degree that they would be utterly unable to help each other, but whose skills in navigating the cave were, to put it mildly, pathetic.
It was a great trip to cave country, with plenty of revelations.
a) I will never cave dive backmount again. Sidemount is safer, easier on the body and better for cave conservation. Someone once made the argument that sidemounters have to manage two spgs and manage gas between two independent tanks. Well, as a wise person said to me, if you can't do that kind of simple gas management, you have no business in a cave in the first place.
b) The human impact on caves is immeasurably greater than we are aware... even a simple bubble stream can damage the cave, let alone hands, fins and banging tanks. Not enough emphasis is put on cave conservation - too many cave divers seem to come to the sport with that "I've been xx feet into the cave, yay me" mentality
c) The most travelled caves are the least interesting. You want cave diving, do Pea**** 3, not Pea**** 1.
d) Serving sizes in US restaurants are too big. Eating in the room is cheap and lets you manage your own serving sizes.
e) Support the smaller players in the cave diving game, like Amigo's and Dive Outpost - the service is friendlier, better and the fills are done to order.
So, that was that. Eighteen cave dives in 11 days. Each and every one of them were memorable, now that we no longer obsess about penetration distance or hugging the gold line.