Post date: May 24, 2011 5:17:55 PM
From the Aghnahoo Log:
1.01.2010
UPPER CRADLE HOLE
Artur Kozlowski
O: to climb the aven before the first sump in the Shepton Mallet extension.
The Aven proved to be very high, around 18m although broke by few ledges. At the very top a rift in the ceiling was blocked by boulders but I must have been very close to the surface - the air was very fresh there were plenty of spider webs.
One ledge lower from the top a dodgy traverse indicated possibility of NE continuation but it will be better to check it out with SRT & bolting kit.
Total underground: 1.5h
Cavers: Gaelan, Al (later Petie, Éabha, UCD folks)
Trip time: 9 hours
After a pleasant lie-in, a leisurely breakfast and a not very faffy packing session Gaelan and i set off from the Hoo for Upper Cradle Hole before midday. Our plan was to climb an aven (or maybe more than one) in the Shepton Mallet Chamber at the upstream end of UCH. To get there means swimming across the sump pool, so we decided to wear only thermals under our oversuits and change into dry thermals and furrys once in the Shepton Mallet Chamber. The weather was dull and a bit drizzly, there had been rain during the night but water levels in UCH weren't excessively above normal and presented no problems on the inwards journey. Although the sump pool swim was cold it was short and we were soon in Shepton Mallet.
Above the hand-lined climb we investigated the prospects, eventually settling for a nice clean aven just before the final crawl to the Shepton Mallet sump. We carted the bags up and got changed. There was some water flowing from the Shepton Mallet sump, but nothing to be concerned about.
Gaelan took the first lead, and after standing on my back and shoulders was soon speeding up the aven, free climbing and placing screws for protection. Some time later, Gaelan was running out of rope and more water was running over the small waterfall beside me. Conversation became increasingly difficult and then pretty much impossible on my part. Gaelan could hear me but the white noise from the waterfall made it impossible to make out anything he shouted back. Even slowing the conversation down to one word every five seconds didn't achieve anything, except calls to 'speak slow', 'louder', 'what', 'repeat that'. After shouting ourselves hoarse for half an hour, Gaelan unroped and free climbed on for another five metres, eventually being halted by a choke about 35 metres above the floor, with a good draught and obviously near the surface. He downclimbed to the rope and then began downclimbing and derigging the climb, before stopping about 10 metres above the floor. It was now possible to have a better conversation. There was another lead to check, so i lowered Gaelan down. Water was now beginning to trickle down the aven.
After a break (with a token conversation about the water level), i climbed up to the top, taking the hand-line from the climb with me to rig, to try to preserve the climbing rope. After kitting up i traversed a ledge to the lead, which went up through heavily calcited boulders, but there was nothing further to be gained. I rigged the static rope from the second-from-the-top bolt, as it wouldn't reach the top one, and while Gaelan provided a back-up with the climbing rope i abseiled down and removed the remaining bolts. The static line remains belayed from ONE BOLT and should not be relied upon. We discussed tackling another climb, as there was one drill battery remaining, eventually deciding to head out in view of the increasing water in Shepton Mallet. Still not concerned about the Aghinrawn River in UCH, we packed the climbing kit, left SRT kits on to wash them and headed out. The short climb presented a bit of an awkward moment as there was no hand-line, but a sling helped. Back down to the stream, and i slid through the muddy slot into two feet of water, where it had been dry on our way in. Dipping into the water, i discovered we were now sumped in...
We had a bit of discussion, eventually deciding free-diving was too risky, so we climbed back into Shepton Mallet. It was 5.30pm, with plenty of time for the flood to abate before our midnight callout. I then remembered there was a climb up to a tube which led to a ledge above the mainstream, so i pushed Gaelan up, and he went to confirm that it was a bypass to the sumped section. We'd soon be out. Then, as Gaelan hauled the bags up the climb, a large rock was dislodged and struck me on my Croll. Winded and a bit shaken, i asked, not as politely as i should have, for Gaelan to rig a line for me to climb. Luckily we had a drill with a fresh battery and lots of hangers to hand, as there are no natural belays in the bypass. When the rope was rigged, i joined Gaelan on the ledge above the river.
Gaelan rigged a pull-through from a bolt at the back of the ledge, and dropped to the stream carrying his two bags. When they hit the water he was dragged downstream, but eventually recovered and made it back to below the pitch, where i passed him the other end of the climbing rope before following. We stood on the lip of the sump pool, white water surging around our waists, and pulled the rope down. Two years previously, Artur and i had reached this point and realised that our flood troubles were by and large over. Now there was twice as much water. We moved carefully downstream, hanging onto the left wall, constantly pushed off balance by the torrent, knowing that one unrecoverable slip would be fatal. Boulders in the streambed rolled and bounced at the slightest touch. At the low ducks we discovered that they too were completely sumped. Gaelan attempted the climb out of the streamway just before them, at the broken bridge, but was unable to pull himself up. He let me into position, suggesting i lasso a spike with a sling, but in the conditions this was impossible. Gaelan managed to poke it over a few nodules at the limit of his reach, i tied a couple of loops in it to stand in, and with Gaelan pushing my pack, pulled myself onto the ledge. I moved the sling to a better spike, Gaelan clipped into it, and passed up the bags and then joined me.
It was a relief to be out of the water, but we had to keep moving. A branch on the ledge we were on offered a reminder that the flood could still increase. Keeping out of the water as much as possible, using the rope where needed to belay each other, working section by section and alternating leading, we worked our way slowly downstream. The noise was incredible, and beyond a few metres even yelling was incomprehensible. Improvised hand signals and careful planning of each move helped. Gaelan's light was failing, and mine was following close behind, and both of us had forgotten our back-up lights. Cold and on edge, we eventually reached the boulder pile below Pollnagapple. Knowing there was a shaft above through which we could be extracted if we were forced to wait here, we relaxed a little and considered the onwards options. At stream level we would have to go in the water. This was dark, fast, and nasty looking, and the depth was difficult to estimate. It looked like the first section, and although the passage was wider here, if the flood had increased we knew passing through safely would also be very difficult. I proposed to test the waters while being belayed, Gaelan didn't like this and suggested we traverse out of the water, using bolts for protection. Then i thought of the high level traverse above the entrance. If we were going to traverse out this would be the best option, with the shortest amount of climbing involved. We left the bags and went to find the way up and have a look, and decided it was possible.
As we packed up the bags to go and begin the traverse, i looked downstream, and saw two bright eyes coming towards me... Blinded by the lights i initially couldn't make out who it was, until Petie joined us on the boulder pile. We were amazed that he'd walked upstream. Then Éabha and several UCD cavers joined us. At which point we explained our white, anxious faces and evident relief at being reached - it was now 9pm and we'd been making our way out since 5.30pm. We worked back downstream together, the relief expedition realising that it was a different matter altogether to go with the flow than against it, but it wasn't as difficult as Gaelan and i had feared. Soon we were back on the surface, enjoying the silence of a breezy May evening and the last of the sunset.
Before we both passed out at the Hoo, we had some discussion over what we should name the climb. Variants of a good day for ducks were bandied around, and eventually agreed on Nice Day For Ducks with a tossed coin.
Al