by rchrds » Sep 6, 2005 11:38 pm
Following our last successful sump push last month at the lower, then sumped, entrance to Fern Cave, Alabama, C and I decided that it was time to revisit the historic First Sump, originally dived by Dabbs, Millot, Rose, Johnston in 1978. Historic trip reports had described only the inner sump- with no reference to a sump at the entrance, and we had been confused as to how the original party had gotten to the sump to begin with.
Upon our arrival (immediately following the weekend of Katrina) we found that the water level at the entrance was easily a foot lower than our last visit. Suddenly, the magic portal was visible, and an ear dipper pass through was visible in the narrow maze of entrance swims, that allowed us into the lower cave without having to put regulators in our mouths. This was apparently the way Dabbs, et al had come in the past, making our dive the previous month (which was still sumped) completely unneccessary.
C and I, assisted by P, P, S, S, and T rapidly traversed the first thousand feet of passage to the inner sump. We were assisted by technology as both C and I, wearing thin laminate drysuits were able to wear the suits throughout the dry passage without overheating, eliminating the need to suit up in the low, sandy beach area. In addition, we were using tiny tanks- having the foresight of the earlier team, and knowledge that at most, the sump was 200 feet long- no more than a 4 minute dive. Team PPSST was heard later remarking that this had been the easiest haul trip they had ever been on- In fact only three members carried gear in- and C and I carried all of the gear out, with no help from the others.
As the dive began, team PPSST retreated to survey side leads that had been left on the previous trip. C lead the dive- her first time leading a sump dive, and she got to use my new prototype lightweight High Intensity Discharge (HID) dive lamp- a tiny package weighing two pounds that provides 4 hours of light equivalent to a 50 watt halogen bulb. Admittedly overkill, with visibility in the sump well in excess of the passage width- nearly 40 feet. It (and she) performed flawlessly- rapidly spooling out 110' feet of line while I swam behind surveying the sidewalls and fighting with the slightly bouyant gear dry bottle.
We reached the far beach and doffed our gear- switching from neoprene to capilene hoods and stacking tanks in an unceremonious pile on the sandy bank. We broke out the survey gear from the dry bottle and prepared to connect the sump survey to the inner survey.
We had been told to expect a permanent station on the inside- something left from previous survey trips. We were greeted by a huge flowstone shield and a beautiful column flanked by amber and white stals, but no permanent station. We decided that it might be wise to scout (scoop) ahead to attemp to determine how far we might have to survey to find this imaginary "permanent station." We walked ahead down the screaming borehole- contemplating how relaxing it was to just stroll down a 70 foot wide, 30 foot tall stream passage floored with hard, flowstone streambed covered with a half inch of water. Not even small pebbles to trip up our progress.
5 minutes into our progress we happened upon an old carbide survey station. Surely this was not the station we had been looking for, (I had actually forgotten the correct number,) so we continued on for another five minutes until we came to a large confluence. Previous to this, most of the passage had been subject to significant flood events- and there had been very little evidence of previous human passage; but there had been some. Telltale crawl marks in a high sandy area, the survey station. But here at the meeting of two large water sources- there was no evidence that the room had been recently completely flooded- the two small creeks intermingled tens of feet below where we stood on dry, mudless sand flats. We delayed here, undecided whether to return and begin the survey or to continue our exploration. We decided that a short way up each passage could do no damage, and continued on. In short order I noticed that there was a single set of footprints- one going in, and one going out in the right tunnel. We speculated that "the one who's mate promises burgers" was most likely responsible for these prints- though it was curious that there was only one set. Satisfied, we turned back and ventured up the left tunnel. Here, there was no evidence of hairless monkeys passing. Only bare, unmarked sand, even where the water turned away to a side passage. Had this passage been so far from the top entrances that it had escaped exploration?
Satisfied, we returned to our task, surveying to the carbide station- sure that at least, this would be recorded in the records of "the one who's mate promises burgers."
With the survey, and supposed connection complete, we donned our apparatus and made like seals to the water, barking our approval at finally being weightless in the cave as we made our exit.
J