QUODCUMQUE FACIENDUM : NIMIS FACIEMUS
This B.B. was never issued as the printing machine broke
down.
The committee acted promptly and agreed to finance a service
for the machine. This proved to be
impractical owing to its age, so Tony Corrigan volunteered to print the June
B.B. on his own machine before he got married and disappeared on his honeymoon.
Unfortunately, Tony's machine works well enough with the
metal plates he uses but not with the paper plates used by the B.B. for
cheapness. We finished up with a half
printed B.B. and a wrecked master. The
fault on the B.B. machine was still there, even after some of the suspect parts
had been dismantled.
So the machine had to come even further apart, and some
special tools had to be designed and made to do this. Dave Irwin offered the Gestetner for the July
B.B., but there were no skins available and it was anybodys guess as to
whether it would be quicker to do this and clean up the typewriter afterwards,
or to press on with getting the B.B. machine back in working order. The last course was chosen, and at the time
of writing this, the machine looks as if it will work. It was been decided to get the July B.B. out
first - because it was vital to let members know about the dinner etc. and to
put this B.B. out when possible.
In the days of these B.B.s, everything had to be type out
onto stencils (masters) which were then used to do the printing. But as these had been wrecked, the editor of
the day never had the time to re-type the June B.B.
QUODCUMQUE FACIENDUM : NIMIS FACIEMUS
Once again, it has been necessary to produce a joint issue
of the B.B. - this time for April and May. After the March B.B. was completed, there was no material left to start
this one and, as I write this on May 6th, there is still only enough material
for about 5 or 6 pages of this B.B.
I have heard that the present position of the B.B. has been
the subject of some grumbling amongst club members. It would be interesting to know against whom
any such grumbles are directed. Not, one
hopes, against the editor who has already made it quite clear that he no longer
has enough time to chase people for articles; who has already appealed for help
with this matter; who has pointed out that he came back to edit the B.B. on a
temporary basis and who has let it be known that he would be only too happy to
co-operate in any way - including handing over the entire job to some younger
member.
No, I am afraid that (with perhaps half a dozen or so
exceptions) if anyone is looking for a culprit to blame for the present state
of the B.B., then he or she need look no further than into the nearest
mirror. The B.B. is not mine. It is (or should be) yours. What have YOU done about it lately?
Having got the above off my chest on the principle that I
really ought to type SOMETHING before June arrives, I am very pleased to be
able to announce that volunteers have now come forward. Andy Sparrow and 'Mr' Nigel have promised to
do all they can to make sure that articles start to flow again. The immediate aim is to get the B.B back to a
regular monthly basis again. When this
has been done, Andy has expressed interest in taking a bigger part in running
the B.B., and it could be that a new editor is on the way at last. In any case, let us hope that this period in
time marks the end of the current decline in the B.B. and the start of a new
phase of activity.
A B.E.C. digging team, led by Snab, have re-opened a cave on
Western Mendip after a record breaking four and a half hours dig through
fifteen feet of infill. To all those who
know the whereabouts of this hole, PLEASE do not visit the site without first
checking with Snab. The reason is that
it is vital to maintain good relations with the farmer, who does not want to
see a general free for all happening on his property. Nobody is trying to keep interested cavers
away - it is a question of either submitting to a certain amount of discipline
OR having the cave closed again. Incidentally, the diggers refer to themselves jocularly as the Tynings Institute
for Troglodytic Studies.
As many members know, the clubs public liability insurance
policy expires in August. After this
date, the club must either have got itself a new policy or made some other
arrangement. Unfortunately, the present
situation is - to put it mildly - somewhat confused. It is hoped to include some sort of
informative article this B.B.
It is reported that, currently, the Northern Council is
still in a state of disarray, with the pirates maintaining their stand and the
others pointing out the dangers of ignoring access agreements. The Southern Council, although happily free
from this sort of internal trouble, failed to obtain a quorum for its annual
meeting and the chairman has had to ask the clubs who did not attend to ratify the
proceeding subsequently.
While this state of affairs may well please those who would
like to see an end to all forms of control over caving and who are, perhaps
rightly, suspicious of any form of representative bodies; it must not be
supposed that a collapse of the present council structure would achieve this
object. In the absence of a credible
form of council structure, other interested bodies might well claim to
represent caving and the interests of cavers and over such bodies, the average
caver might well find he had less control than he currently has over the
council structure. Many of us feel that,
whatever may happen, the control of caving on Mendip should remain in the hands
of the Mendip based clubs - and the Southern Council still appears to be the
most effective way of ensuring this.
Alfie
Our Hon. Sec. Mike Wheadon, shows
that the size of a cave depends to a great extent on your point of view!
Just over a million years ago, I think it was about 1957,
there was one of our periodic events concerning the B.B., that is, a shortage
of material for publication. So, heeding
one of Alfie's many appeals, I put on my pen and wrote an article which was about
nothing at all. Strangely enough, lots
of people found it sufficiently interesting to write in and thereby make sure
that it was not necessary to publish articles about nothing at all for some
time there from.
Still, enough of this drivel. If you are not bored by now, you must be
intrigued sufficiently to read on. I
have observed that nostalgia is a best-seller with the club, so Ill bring an
unbelievable amount of caving into the picture by mentioning Goatchurch Cavern
.
Some of our readership have already heard of this notorious
cavern, no doubt - but for the uninitiated, It is situated about three hundred yards up the Lower Twinbrook Valley,
elevated some hundred feet or more above the little stream which is swallowed
up just below. Anyway, it was to this
place that three non-aligned novice cavers cycled from Wells one Friday
evening. Their names were Mike and
Albert (shared between them, of course.)
Anyway, there was this bloke, Herbert Balch, who had gained
some sort of reputation on the caving scene prior to our arrival, and this
fellow had also written the odd book or two, which we had felt was compulsive
reading. This book (particular)
"Mendip, Its Swallet Caves and Rock Shelters", gave not only a plan
of the cave but also a description and, returning to my story, we decided that
we should search for a lost chamber. After all, what Balch could once find, we could also find.
Friday evening then, with no thought for the Hunters, Castle
of Comfort or the Feathers, we parked our cycles and humped our expedition
rucksacks up to the clean airy entrance where we charged carbide lamps and
changed into our warm woollies and overalls. Then, almost breaking our necks on the stairs, we straightway made for the
dining chamber to set up camp - we were, after all, expecting to spend several
hours in the cave.
Although we had all been in Goatchurch once before and were,
therefore, quite intimate with its passages (Shame! - Ed.) we nevertheless
explored all the passages carefully as they descended to the Water
Chamber. Then, bearing in mind the
danger of getting stuck in the Drainpipe, we carefully writhed our way to the
Terminal Rift. With today's knowledge,
we can tell that we weren't the most intrepid of cavers, but then we decided
that there was nothing more at the bottom, so we had better retrace our steps,
searching for the place where Balch entered through the floor of the Boulder
Chamber above the slide as he called it. We boldly went where no man had gone before - down the rift marked Bloody
Tight. It was, but we made it, even if
we didn't find the slide.
I could go on and on (I know, I have!) describing the
struggles and thrutchings we made searching for that "small chamber with a
stone pillar standing erect and supporting, as it were, the roof" but we
got fed up and decided that our time was up. We returned to the Dining Room, collected our gear and surfaced to
daylight. Yes, daylight! The trip had lasted over TWELVE HOURS. I suspect that this is probably a record for
Goatchurch, but I can think of no reason to return to repeat the epic and if
this ever gets printed, it will at least fill a space.
*****************************************
This B,B. threatens to become a Goatchurch Appreciation
Number, judging by the next article, sent to us by Annie Wilton-Jones. Club members should note that they are
obviously depriving themselves of valuable experiences (to say nothing of
material for their eventual memoirs) if they fail to visit Goatchurch regularly
- the Cave Where It All Happens!
by Annie Wilton-Jones
Contrary to popular belief, the Wilton-Jones family isnt
eccentric.
After all, there is no law which says that a man must spend
the last night of his bachelor freedom at a drunken stag party. (I bet not many members of the B.E.C. knew
that: - Ed.) It's quite acceptable for
him to spend the time quietly reminiscing with his best man. Which explains why, on the eve of our
wedding, Ian and Graham were to be found alone together - making my trousseau!
Several hours later, when I had been enlisted as a
Wilton-Jones, I was delighted to be presented with my lovely, new, handmade
suit. I didn't wear it for my 'going
away', but kept it wrapped up for a few days until we arrived at Inchnadamph,
Sutherland. Then, for the very first
time, I wore my new wetsuit! Well,
doesn't everyone go caving on their honeymoon?
There was one slight problem regarding my wetsuit. There had been so little time available for
the making of it that the pieces had merely been stuck together, the taping and
stitching being left until after the honeymoon. It was decided (by my beloved husband) that although the suit could be
worn, it must be protected by a full outfit of grot-gear over the top of
it. Thus, our honeymoon is recorded for
posterity in a collection of slides showing a ten-ton rubber whale, wearing
jersey jeans, paddling across a river chamber and climbing an underground
waterfall like some ungainly salmon.
For those who don't know it, to digress from the main object
of this account for a moment, Cnoc Nam Uamph in Inchnadamph is a very pleasant,
fairly small cave offering some sporting opportunities for those who so
desire. There are sumps and a water race
- in full spate during our visit - river passages with cascades, a small
decorated chamber and rabbit warrens. Whilst I would not recommend travelling to the North West of Scotland
for the sole purpose of visiting this cave, it's a worthwhile trip if you
happen to be in the area.
Honeymoon over, we returned home and, shortly wards, took
ourselves off to the Belfry. I was in a
state of great excitement as, having served my apprenticeship on O.F.D. - Cwm
Dwr, St. Cuthberts and Swildons IV. I
was now to be allowed to tackle the big stuff Goatcurch. The wetsuit was, needless to say, still in
its un-taped and unstitched condition, but Ian had actually said that I needn't
wear grot-gear, which was lucky as I had forgotten to bring any. The swimsuit I normally wear under caving
gear had disintegrated thanks to cave and so, clad only in wetsuit~ boots and
helmet, I entered into the weegee haven.
All went well until we slid into a side passage look at a
dig. At that point, I felt a definite
draught enter my wetsuit at a place where it should not have been able to enter. This phenomenon was soon explained when I
discovered that the neoprene cement had given way at an awkward place and a two
inch hole had appeared in the seam of my wetsuit trousers. Undaunted by this slight setback, I continued
with the epic trip, arriving at the Drainpipe with the gap now a worrying six
inches long. A quick wriggle along the
Drainpipe was followed by an even quicker wriggle back, as the gap was now all
of two feet. A rapid retreat was
necessary before I was left with a pair of 'two piece' trousers.
Which is why I was caught, in my trousseau, escaping from
Goatchurch, to the astonishment of thousands of bareheaded, torch-carrying
weegees, crying, I just can't go on!
However, I am not eccentric.
Andy Sparrow bears out Fred
Davies's famous dictum in this article, 'Caves is where you find 'em.'
This article continues from that which appeared in the B.B.
for January 1975, describing some small finds made by the Salisbury Caving
Group in the Vale of Wardour. The
previous article brought us up to the end of 1973, by which time we had found
over 1,000 feet of mine passage and one short natural cave - Ammonite Rift.
For Over a year, little attention was paid to the area. Then we acquired a 2½ inch O.S. map of the southern half of the vale, which appeared to show two sinking streams near Tisbury. On Christmas Eve, 1974, after a lunchtime drink in the Compasses Inn (strongly recommended to anyone visiting the area) we inspected the sinks. We found, not two but five Swildons size swallets, some of which were well developed. Plans were immediately made to dig, but sadly have never come to life, since none of the S.C.G. live locally any more.
Later, on the same day, we discovered the first open cave entrance we had come across in the vale. We found this entrance in an old quarry just West of Tisbury. Despite having no caving gear, and only one lamp between us, we explored the cave immediately. We found about forty feet of passage involving several squeezes in a too tight rift. We named the cave 6X Cave our high spirits at the time being due to that particular ale! For the next nine months nothing of note was found in the area until, on the 17th September 1975 while walking on my own, I came across another open cave, again in an old quarry. Returning with a friend next day, we followed a twenty foot crawl into a small rift chamber where we disturbed two bats, which struck us in their panic to leave the cave - hence the name Bat Hole. No more open cave has been found since Bat Hole, but numerous swallets have been come across. Their total number now exceeds fifteen. All of these take a large flow of water through the winter though they tend to dry up in the summer. Not one of them has been dug. Anyone interested?
As many members know, the club's public liability insurance
is due to run out in August, and much activity has been going on behind the
scenes to determine what should be put in its place. This article was going to try to layout the
entire position so that members could see all the aspects involved. However, it appears that more information is
still coming in, and it is obviously no good to present members with a picture
that could be out of date even before it gets read.
This article is thus going to try to put over the basic
problems - and leave out any possible ways of solving them until there is
enough definite information to be able to tackle this question properly.
Apart from the more obvious things, like providing tackle,
club funds have to be used for a number of purposes, like paying rates on the
Belfry and insuring the Belfry against fire etc. One of these things which the club has used
some of its funds for is providing insurance cover for its members via its
public liability policy.
The purpose of this sort of policy is to protect club
members from any possibility of financial loss as a result of some legal action
in which damages might be awarded, for the payment of which a member or members
of the club might find themselves liable.
The different sorts of claims which are possible get quite
complicated, but basically, a club member could find himself or herself liable
in one of two ways - either because of his or her membership of the club, or as
an individual.
If we concentrate on members who might find themselves
liable because of their membership of the club, then there are six categories
attracting a high risk:-
1. Members who are financially well off.
2. Members of the committee.
3. Trustees of the Belfry.
4. The Tacklemaster, and any assistants.
5. Diggers.
6. Active cavers.
The main point to observe is that not all club members would
bee equally likely to find themselves liable in fact for financial loss because
of their membership of the club. Thus, a
well-off tacklemaster, who is therefore a member of the committee and who might
also be a trustee of the Belfry and who caves and digs actively would have
cause for concern if he thought that the club had inadequate cover. On the other hand, a member who took no part
in the running of the club, who had perhaps retired from active any caving or
digging and who had nothing much in the way of assets or income would not have
cause to worry.
As far as liability is concerned as a result of any
individual activities, when membership of the club is not a deciding factor,
then fairly obviously, the greater the caving and digging activity, the greater
the risk -although there are other ways by which a member could become
individually liable. For example,
lending another person some gear which caused an accident and which had been
inadequately maintained by the owner might possibly lead to trouble under some
circumstances.
The club's present policy covers all these, and other
circumstances. However, it is thought
that it may not prove possible to obtain the same degree of cover that we at
present enjoy (until August!) at anything like the same payment. If this turns out to be true, then the effect
of a much greater outlay on club finances must be taken into account.
One factor which the B.E.C. in particular has to contend
with its relatively large proportion of life members. If a policy in future is quoted at so much
per member, then the members who pay an annual subscription would have to pay
every year not only for themselves but for the life members as well. Unless peoples attitudes towards the cost of
annual subs alters drastically, any large addition to the annual sub to cope
with increased cost of insurance will drive some members away. This will mean fewer annual subs to support
the life members and so, without any other change, the sub would have to go up
once again. This process could run away
with itself, and we finish up with a club containing nothing but life members
with no income from subs and no way of affording any sort of insurance at
all. Unfortunately, there is no way of
telling in advance how many people will leave the club if the sub goes up by
any particular amount. All that we DO
know is that when the B.E.C. and the Wessex raised their subs by the same
amount, we lost a much great percentage of our membership than they did.
Thus, at this stage, when all the various ways by which the
club could get insurance cover have not yet been fully worked out, we can
probably write down some guidelines to be applied when all is known more fully
1. Any solution which involves drastically raising
the annual subscription is not on. For
the same share of insurance premium, our members would have to pay more than
the members of a comparable club who did not have life members to support. This would drive younger members towards
other, and cheaper, clubs and older members away altogether. If this happened the situation might run away
with itself.
2. The solution will have to be towards cheaper
form of insurance, even if this means a less comprehensive form of cover.
3. Some means must be found for the protection of
those members who might be exceptionally at risk, if the general cover is
inadequate for them.
It is hoped to follow this with further notes when the
position becomes more certain. In the meantime, anyone who can shed further light
on this problem is most welcome to contribute.
19-4-76 Ogof Hebog (Cave of the Hawk). Ian, Annie and Graham
Wilton-Jones. More thorough
investigation of the site discovered over Whitsun 1974 at S.N. 752187, when a
15ft deep narrow rift was visible. Today, a large quantity of boulders was removed to reveal a cross rift,
the main part being 15ft long, aligned ENE-WSW leading to a small chamber with
a cobble floor. This could repay further
digging. An intermittent stream enters
above the chamber, sinking in the cobbles. A fox had made its home at the bottom and died there. 2 - 3 hours. G.
W-J
20-4-76 Hunters Hole. A.R.T. (Not S.R.T.) and self to Dear's Ideal, where the Mendip Chip,
Bang and Chisel Co. applied ½lb boulder-baiter. Duly fired and out. Missed pub at
11.45 p.m. 1½ hours. "Mr." N.
24-4-76 Singing River Mine. Rich Stevenson, Chris Batstone, Andy Sparrow, Sue Jordan, Jeff
Price. The object of this trip was to
dive the sumped level at the bottom of the mine. Rich dived into a small chamber with an
airspace. He then investigated small
passage going for about 60ft. Total length of dive was 80ft. 1½ hours. C.B.
1 -5-76 Manor Farm. Pete Eckford, Chris Batstone, Sue Jordan, Andy Sparrow, 'Quackers' and
Sandra. Trip to try and dive the sump at
the bottom of N.H.A.S.A Gallery that most people think is a puddle. After about half an hour of digging, baling and
diving, Pete managed to pass the sump. He succeeded in reaching an air bell about three feet in. The sump continues with dubious potential,
and awaits either another dive or a mammoth baling session. A good trip, though carrying bottles down
Manor is NOT recommended. 4 hours. A.S.
15-5-76 Manor Farm. John Dukes, Andy Sparrow, Pete Moody, Alison Hopper and (eventually) Nigel Taylor. Quickly down to the sump to try to bale our way into Manor Farm 11. An hour's energetic digging; baling and dam building broke the sump.
After another half hour's work it became passable. At this point, all the hard work being done,
Nigel turned up. Sparrow proceeded to
crawl through the porridge-like mud of the sump and emerged into a bell chamber
found on a previous trip. From here, the
way was by digging upwards for six feet into a tight tube going for fifteen
feet. Sparrow was attempting to pass the
squeeze halfway along this to get into the large cross rift visible beyond when
Dukes's grinning face appeared from the said rift. The dig connects through an unnoticed opening
in the wall of the twenty foot blind pot at the bottom of N.B.A.S.A.
Gallery. Such is life. 3½ hours. A.S.
28-12-75. Tony and Sue Tucker, John Dukes and Mutley. From the Belfry across to Plantation Swallet
where Walt-baiting took place. Across
the mineries up North Hill to Priddy TEN Barrows, where now resides the Wessex
wheelbarrow, recently liberated. Then
down to Swildons where we met Chris Batstone and Barney as they emerged with
the Belfry Avenue sign. Finally, back to
the Belfry. A working trip. A.T.
Derek Sanderson sends this
account of some caving in Wales
DISCOVERY: Back in August 1 372, Roger Wing and I
were exploring the caves of the Nant-y-Glais, a small valley near Merthyr
Tidfil. We spent several hours
photographing in the somewhat arduous and wet Ogof Rhyd Sych (SO 041 102) and
then had a quick probe into the sump entrance of Ogof Pysgodyn, a few yards
down valley, before we began to walk
back down the rive bed towards the bridge.
The river was low, and the limestone slabs over which the
water usually flows were mostly dry. After a time, Roger noticed a small cavity under the right hand bank
behind a limestone block which we thought deserved a second look. After shifting the block slightly, we were
able to push a way through numerous cobwebs into a small cave passage. The roof and floor were unscratched and a few
largish stones had to be pushed aside before we could enter. All the signs suggested that we were entering
new cave.
DESCRIPTION: The passage beyond the entrance is narrow and low, with a scalloped
floor and rough texture to the roof. Progress was by crawling and it was impossible to avoid scratching the
rock. There are a few ribs of calcite in
the roof.
After about thirty feet of passage formed along the bedding
joint, the cave turns at right angles to the left and develops into a miniature
stream passage of about 3ft square, pleasantly scalloped in smoother grey
rock. A few drops in the floor level - a
matter of inches rather than feet - and twenty feet on, the bedding development
begins to re-assert itself as the passage lowers, widens and veers to the
right.
Passing some flood debris, a few feet further on, and the
passage become half blocked by rounded pebbles. Over the pebbles however is a six inch gap beyond which appears to be a
low but wide open passage to the right taking a small stream.
In spite of the fact that this pebble choke appears to be
very easy to push past, we turned back, as lights and time were running
out. We had covered about seventy feet
of passage, and clearly there is more. We also paced the distance from the entrance to the bridge and found it
to be 100 paces.
COMMENTS: Soon afterwards, we wrote to Geoff Bull of
W.S.G. who had been doing work in the area and gave him a quick
description. His reply seemed to confirm
our opinion that this small cave had not been entered before, though he did say
that their local representative thought he knew of the site of the entrance.
The cave is not particularly impressive in size, but it
could lead to bigger things. Clearly,
there is potential in the area for, not too far away up-valley, are the
extensive passages of Ogof-y-Ci, as well as those caves previously mentioned -
over 4,000 feet in all. It may be
however, that in normal conditions much of the cave is under water. Perhaps others have visited the cave since
1972 (W.S.G.for instance) and passed the Pebble Choke. If so, how about letting the B.B. know about
it?
Roger, with such command of the Welsh language, suggested we
called the cave Ogor Sodof, but this seemed a bit unkind. Neither did it reflect the short bit of fun
we had grovelling in it - so we decided to leave the naming of it to those who
follow and enter the miles of passage which, we are sure, must lie beyond.
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Across:
1. Strata like this are not
necessarily sub-standard. (7)
6. Cuthberts eater reorganised. (5)
8. Additionally short drink. (3)
9. It follows present times driven underground. (4)
11. Trap. (4)
13. Cavers food in no showy form. (4)
14. Proverbially slippery. (4)
16. Mendip hole loudly that is around. (5)
17. Bits of gear to be checked at odd times. (5)
19. Supporting timber found in Trats Temple. (7)
Down
2. Descend on 15, for example.
(3)
3. 15 down has to be this of course. (4)
4. The same again includes teetotaller. (5)
5. Set chip for drops. (7)
6. Lies backward in tars and descend rope. (7).
7. Safeguards, harnesses or measures underground. (4)
10. This month, in short. (4)
12. Trips which sound as if they could be 13. (5)
15. Fifty one and two directions useful underground. (4)
18. In short, some sixth sense perhaps. (1,1,1)
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The Belfry,
Chairman S.J. Collins
Minutes Sec G.
Members Chris Batstone, John Dukes, Chris Howell, Tim Large, Mike Wheadon, Barry Wilton.
Honorary Secretary M.
WHEADON, 91 The Oval, Englishcoombe,
Honorary Treasurer B.
Caving Secretary TIM
LARGE,
Climbing Secretary THIS POST IS NOW IN ABEYANCE.
Hut Warden C.
BATSTONE,
Belfry Engineer J.
DUKES,
Tacklemaster G.
WILTON-JONES, Ilenea,
B.B. Editor S.J.
COLLINS, Lavender Cottage, Bishops Sutton, Nr. Bristol. Tel : CHEW MAGNA 2915
Publications Editor C.
HOWELL,
B.B. Postal BRENDA
Spares T.
LARGE, Address already given
Membership Sec. Mrs. A.
DOOLEY, c/o The Belfry. TO WHOM ALL SUBS
SHOULD BE SENT.
All contribution to the Belfry Bulletin, including those of officers of the club, are not necessarily the opinions of the editor or the committee of the Bristol Exploration Club, unless explicitly stated as being such.
QUODCUMQUE FACIENDUM : NIMIS FACIEMUS
The Belfry Engineer would like to hear from any members who can suggest a suitable décor (such as colour schemes and the like) for the redecoration of the Belfry. If the colour finally chosen are not to you liking, you will only have yourself to blame. If you dont know what you would like, tell him what you would NOT like.
As explained in the last B.B., difficulties in trying to
publish the B.B continue. Since this is
now February 5th, we must wish readers a Happy Eleven Months.
I went to the Annual Meeting of the N.G.A. early in December
last and, in spite of rumours which suggested that a rough time might be had by
all, I am happy to report that the meeting managed to avoid any form of open
conflict. However, the N.G.A. still has
a long way to go before it, can really claim to possess the full confidence of
all its constituent members. In spite of
the large amount of paper which it generates (I recently brought back nearly
two reams of printed matter and this was just the minutes of that Annual
Meeting for distribution by the Southern Council alone) the main failure of
N.C.A. to date still seems to be the degree of misunderstanding between its
constituent bodies. Different points of
view are bound to exist, but provided they are recognised as being reasonable
and constructive and discussed sensibly and without rancour, the N.C.A. still
has a chance to become the sort of body it should become. Perhaps the move to get the executive
meetings away from Stafford and into the regions will help. At any rate, it has bought itself a years
breathing space. Let us hope that it
uses this wisely.
No matter what the club has or has not decided about the
frequency of the B.B., it looks as if it is going to come out in practice
whenever there is enough material for another issue. Thus, after a Christmas B.B. that was late by
a record amount, this one is for both January and February - not a very good
start to 1976 and Volume 30 of B.B.
My plea for help has not yet had time to penetrate, but I
shall continue to bang this particular drum because it is vital for the B.E.C.
to have a good, lively and regular journal or magazine - preferably edited by
some young, keen bloke with plenty of time to spare. So far, all the hints I have personally
dropped have not produced any response. We must hope that behind some caver's
rugged; beer-stained exterior there lurks a new editor!
This space being vacant (like the editor's mind) it has
proved possible to include two pieces of news about two club members, both of
which, I regret to have to say, are bad.
Firstly, it is with extreme regret that we learn of the
death of Gordon Tilly. Until fairly
recently, when the deteriorating condition of his spine made it no longer
possible - even for him - to get to Mendip, 'Gordie' was regular visitor to the
Hill. In spite of his physic disability,
Gordie led a full and active life, and that included caving - something which
most, if not all, people in Gordie's state would not even have considered
possible.
Al though Gordies caving was, of necessity, on a modest scale;
in overcoming his difficulties, he showed us that he had the sheer guts which
many a 'tiger' might well envy. His good
humour was proverbial and at one time he took an active part in helping to run
the club, be on the committee and serving as Hut Warden and as part of the
publications team.
We extend our sincere sympathy to his family. The world will be a poorer place; without
Gordie.
We also hear that Tony Corrigan has finally to lose a
leg. We wish him a speedy recovery and
hope to see him about again as soon as possible.
Alfie
We start 1976 with a caving
article from a bloke who writes very legibly and well but who has not put his
name on the article. Thank you, anyway
and let's have some more!
Many people have asked me what the Forty was like before the
'68 flood. Those of you who have climbed
it before 1968 will remember the delights. The soakings from the waterfall. Unless you could afford a wetsuit you were in for a pretty cold time
waiting at the top to go down, and wondering when it would be your turn.
One of my last trips down the cave before the flood was, in
my opinion, typical of many. We
squelched our way across the fields to the cave entrance. Andy was bemoaning the fact that he had been
dragged away from a nice warm pub. The
day was overcast and windy, but with no risk of flooding.
Scrambling in to the block house and down through the we met
a good sized stream thundering its way down with us and we got our first
soaking. None of us wore wet suits. A scramble down the Water Rift, through the
Lavatory Pan and we were into the Water Chamber.
We met a party coming out and asked if there was anyone on
the pitch. "No, but its bloody wet today!" was the reply. On we pressed. Clearly we would not have to wait to go down
today. On, along the narrow stream
passage to the head of the pot.
I dropped down into the small alcove at the pitch head. Pete handed me the ladders and rope. He soon joined and started hunting round for
belays.
What's wrong with
the bolts? I asked.
"Don't like the look of 'em!"
I tugged at one. It
wouldn't budge. "Come on! Let's get
this ladder down" I said.
As it went down, the sound of rung on rock mingled with the
splash of the water falling into the pool below. The lifeline was made secure while I tied on
and Pete took his usual stance for lifelining, sat at the back of the alcove.
"At least I will have company if I fall off." I said as I perched on the edge of the
hole. "Hold me on the
line!" I felt for a rung and
climbed down. Five or six feet from the
top the waterfall hit me. 'Christ! That was cold,' I thought. Climbing down always seems to take
longer. The ladder swung me in and out
of the waterfall. The water hammered on
my head and down my neck. Suddenly I was
at the bottom. I stepped clear of ladder
and waterfall and untied. "O.K." I shouted up the pitch. Nothing I
shouted again. The line twitched and
then disappeared upwards.
I looked up the pitch. The flash of his cap lamp as Jim climbed down through the freezing
shower bath was all I could see. He
reached the bottom and stepped off into the pool, extolling the virtues of the
Forty in fluent Anglo Saxon. "Should have hung the bloody thing from Suicide's Leap", he
added. I remarked that it was more
sporting the way it was.
Andy came down next very quickly. He explained that, Pete was rigging a double
line. We lifelined Pete down and set off
for Sump I. An hour later, we were back
at the Forty, feeling cold and tired. We
found another party descending and arranged to come up between their descents. Jim climbed up first and lifelined the
remainder of the other party down. I took
the lifeline from the man who had just descended and tied on. My turn at last! My feet were numb and I wondered if I could
make it back up the ladder.
Take up slack! I
shouted. The line went tight. I climbed up fairly quickly. At first the water splashing over me made no
difference, but soon my clothing felt like lead weights. Out of the water now and not far to go. Its good to feel the lifeline tight round
one's waist. I stop a second to get my
breath. A last effort, and I pull myself up over the top, panting. I untie the line and struggle through the
keyhole. Soon, we are all back at the
top of the pitch. Pete and Andy are rigging
the pitch with the other party's ladder, while Jim and I fold our ladder for
the carry out.
Twenty minutes later we are back in daylight walking slowly
over the fields to Maine's Barn and thinking of the thermos of coffee and warm
clothing that awaits us.
Editor's
Note: I have since found that this was
written by person than your friendly Hut Warden - Chris Batsone. Thanks, Chris.
One of the many snags of late publication is that 'topical'
features become old history by the time they get read. All the same, here is an account of the
Christmas festivities at the Belfry!
During the Christmas celebrations at the Belfry in 1974,
when a group of diners could find no room at the inn, it was decided that an
attempt woulld be made to repeat the 'performance in 1975. Being kept on tenterhooks during the year as
to who would, or would not, be able to come, some of those at the 1974 dinner
finally agreed that they would be able to come, and an open invitation was
offered to the remainder by way of Hunters.
Anyway, Arthur Laws agreed that since he would be working in
any case and since he enjoyed the 1974 effort, he would come and chef for us
again, so on Christmas Eve a small group turned up at the Belfry to scrape away
last weeks cooking fat, clean the windows and put up some Christmas trimmings
to bring about the usual festive Belfry look.
This done, and with firm instructions to those resident to
keep the fire going, we went away to meet again on Christmas Day when the
Hunters opened. I'm not quite sure who
turned up first, but early arrivals were Mike and Maureen Wheadon with the
Palmer family of Theresa and Kirstine.
Next came the Belfry residents - Garth, John Dukes, Chris
Zot, Jen Sandicott, Pete Eckford and Maryon, Paul and Pat Christie. Alan and Hilary were then speedily on the
scene followed by
This year, although the Belfry table naturally had pride of
place, we made use of our connections with the village hall and borrowed tables
and chairs from them with a certain amount of juggling (while Zot incited the
children to riot) we managed to get everything ready for the magic time when
Arthur would arrive. After our long wait
last year, we were surprised when he arrived at full gallop quite early and in
no time at all we were seated round the table tucking in to a pleasant un-named
soup (could have been asparagus, but Arthur wasnt quite sure) which was
followed by prawn cocktail which was in turn followed by the main course of
turkey or beef with roast and new potatoes, sprouts, swede and carrots, after
which a large plateful of turkey was passed round to keep the plates topped
up. There was either white or red wine
(Some by courtesy of
Very replete bodies then tottered off to various places -
Zot to his pit, Maureen to somebody else's pit, Jen and Pat Christie to their
respective sleeping place and Timothy Ashleigh fell out of his on to the Belfry
floor. We were then joined by Richard
Stevenson who, with Chris Batstone, Jon Jon, Chris Hannam, Rodney Hobbs, Claire
Chamberlain et al. were dining at Greystones later in the day. Then came the Collins family, who seem to be
cramming in a lot of appearances at the end of the year. They stayed to cheer us up for a time before
departing for the Wessex.
After some hours, we all felt able to totter up to
Greystones for a tot on the way to the Hunters, where we were regaled with port
and mince pies and treated to the spectacle of Hobbs and Hannam washing
up. Then on to the Hunters itself, where
we reluctantly drank several pints before returning (after closing) to pasties
and Bubble and Squeak for all at the Belfry. Thus ended Christmas day.
Scientific caving with a twist. An interesting oddity to make surveyors think
twice.
by Alfie.
A cave surveyor is approached by a digging team. They want to sink a deep shaft to break into
the far reaches of a big cave. Unfortunately, the passages in this part of the cave are small, so they
want to know where to sink the shaft to the greatest degree of accuracy
possible. Other methods, such as
electromagnetics, hay proved unsuitable, so they are depending entirely on the
surveyor, who they approach with high hopes.
The surveyor points out that, however carefully he checks
and calibrates his equipment and however careful he takes his readings and
avoids mistakes, there will be an error left due to the imprecision of his
readings. I will be a random error, but
should not amount to more than 0.5O in bearing and a total of 0.1 m in position
and distance combined (let us conveniently forget elevation to make the
argument simpler!)
The diggers say that this is fine. 4 inches for instance, and they werent
expecting anything quite as good as this. The surveyor (noting that the diggers are bigger and uglier than he is)
points out that these errors are for each leg of the survey. As the cave is about 1km long (5 furlongs to
you!) there will be about 100 such legs from the entrance to the point in
question.
The diggers scratch their heads, and finally ask the
surveyor how far out he reckons to be. The surveyor says he reckons to be about 1½ metres out. The diggers, after more head scratching, point
out that over a hundred measurements, he ought to be about 400 inches out and
50O, since these figures are a hundred times his error a single leg.
The surveyor, assuming a crafty expression, says that you
might expect that sort of thing, but luckily the errors tend to cancel each
other out. His figure of about 1½ m
allows for this.
One of the diggers, who has been lost in thought, asks the
surveyor what he means by the errors tending to cancel each other out. Does this mean that the surveyor is taking a
gamble when he says that he is within a metre and a half of the real point
underground?
The surveyor, abandoning his crafty expression, has to agree
that this is so. He points out that
there is about a 70% chance of his point on the survey being within 1½ of the
true point underground. The diggers say
that this is all very well, but they are going to have to sink a three hundred
foot deep shaft through solid rock, and they don't want to be fobbed off with
excuses (if the shaft misses the passage) about what rotten luck it was. The surveyor, noting that the diggers are
getting somewhat belligerent, says that if they want certainty, then he cannot
guarantee that his end point is better than about 12m from the real point, but
adds that it would be very unlikely indeed to be so far out.
The diggers, after much calculation, agree that 12m is a little
over 39 feet. They ask the surveyor if
he can tell them in what direction the true point will lie. The surveyor admits that he cannot. One of the diggers, a more educated man, then
draws a diagram illustrating the state of affairs. If 'S' is the surveyed point and 'T' is the
true point, then the areas shown are the state of affairs, except of course,
that the position of 'T' will not be known. Thus all one can say with certainty is that 'T' must lie somewhere
within 12m of 'S'.
The surveyor says that this is true, but again says that it would be very hard luck if the distance anywhere near 12m. He says that, if they are really worried about the chances, then he can run a second independent traverse from the entrance to the point in question, by a different route if necessary. He will then have two points representing the point they want, and the real point will almost certainly lie somewhere between them. He points out that this will reduce the whole uncertainty by quite an amount. The digger who drew the diagram shakes his head. He asks the surveyor straight out if he accepts the 12m radius from the surveyed point as being all that can be stated with certainty about the possible position of the true point, like this .
.and the surveyor agrees. The digger now says that if a second point is surveyed, the same sort of thing will also apply for it as for the first, except that the radius might well be different depending on the second route through the cave. He now draws this diagram .
The surveyor agrees that this is so, but says that it is
unfair the way that the digger has shown his two points to be almost as badly
out as is possible. He says that he is
quite sure the two points will be much closer together than the way the digger
has showed them to be.
With a crafty leer, the digger accepts this change. He draws a new diagram showing a much smaller error
As the surveyor looks at the new diagram, his jaw drops and
beads of sweat form on his brow. The
amount of mis-closure between the two traverses is now much less, showing that
the surveys are now more accurate - and yet much less is now known about the
true position of the point in question! It would appear that the less accurate the survey, the better was the
position of the actual point known to the surveyor!
The diggers wait patiently for the surveyor to come to some
conclusion. They finally (because it is
getting dangerously close to opening time) ask the surveyor what this means.
The surveyor replies that it means he will be resigning from B.C.R.A. and taking up some entirely different pursuit in the future. The diggers, faced with the possibility of having to drive adits from the bottom of their shaft and, in any case, being possibly even less accurate in depth (a nicety that we agreed earlier to overlook, since things are quite bad enough without any further complications) agree to join him. At present, we understand they are looking into Morris dancing as an enjoyable pastime!
The editor wonders what any of the club's cave surveyors
make of the above, and would be pleased to hear if we still have any left after
they have read this article!
After what seems a clear case of
club members putting the club motto into practice again, we move into somewhat
higher realms of thought with this recipe for a battery by the indefatigable
Graham Wilton-Jones.
The simplest way to charge up a cell is to use a source of
D.C. voltage higher than that produced by the cell to be charged and to limit the
current to the 1 or 2 amps required by means of a voltage dropper
resistor. A 12 volt car battery can be
used as the source of D.C. and an ammeter placed anywhere in the circuit can be
used to monitor the current.
Figure (i)
Many of us use such a system for charging cells from a car
battery charger. Two cells can be
charged together and wired in series. This simple system has disadvantages. The voltage dropper resistor, which can be a piece of electric fire
element, becomes very hot and may get hot enough to cause fires, melt
insulation on nearby wires etc. In
addition to this, as the e.m.f. of the cell being charged increases, the
current flow decreases and thus, if you want to charge at a constant current,
the voltage dropper resistor must be constantly decreased.
A simple form of constant current charger appeared in the
March 1975 issue of the Journal of the Northern Cave Club. (I thought that there were several clubs up
in the North! - Ed.) and is reproduced below:-
Figure (2)
The transistors are NPN power transistors. Such a circuit provides a constant currant of
2 amps across output. Exchanging the
0.35 ohm resistor for one of twice its value reduces the current from 2 amps to
1 amp.
This system, too, has its disadvantages. Control resistors of 0.35 or 0.7 ohms have
normally to be fabricated. Again,
electric fire element wire is suitable. However, the circuit is unstable and is especially affected by
temperature changes. Tr.1, in
particular, gets hot and this affects the output current. The control resistor gets almost as
dangerously hot as does the voltage dropper in the simple circuit of Figure
(i). Lastly, it requires a 12 volt
supply which must remain constant at 12 volts.
In the circuit shown in Figure (iii) below, all these
disadvantages have been eliminated. Tr.3
has been replaced by an operational amplifier and the Darlington pair of Tr.2
and Tr.1 has been replaced by a Darlington pair in a single unit. A Zener diode cuts excess voltage and all
components are standard and commercially available.
Figure (iii)
An account of a trip made by club members last year
by Roy Marshall
On the 27th of July, Bob Sell, Derek Target and myself were
at Saas Grund in Switzerland. We were
half way through a Swiss climbing holiday. With us were our wives (girl friends, children etc.) The weather was fabulous - the sun shining
and not a cloud in the sky. It couldn't
last.
In the previous week we had climbed two training routes from
the valley. The Mittaghorn - 3143m
(10,312ft) and the Gemshorn. The
Mittaghorn is a steep easy ridge above Saas Fee. We were prevented from making the round trip
Mittaghorn-Egginer-Felskin-Sass Fee by bad weather and the fact that we had
little equipment with us. The ridge from
the Mittaghorn to the Egginer looked quite interesting.
The lower slopes of the Mittaghorn have an interesting walk
planned out. The path follows the lower
slope around Saas Fee and at intervals walkers are persuaded, to perform
exercises described on notice boards. These slopes also abound in Chamois and Marmot.
Two days after our ramble up the Mittaghorn we an early
start to climb the Gemshorn. We left the
camp site at 3 a.m. to drive the 2-3 Km (1¼ - 1⅞ miles) to Saas Fee (½km or 550
yards on foot). The long slog through
Saas Fee was uneventful. The slog up to
the snow was more pleasant, once we had cleared the houses. On reaching snow we were disappointed to find
it was in rotten condition. The slope
was about 45O but the snow was so rotten that we would often fall through up to
our thighs.
We struggled to a point about halfway up the slope to a
After a reasonable wait we returned to our discarded gear
and after some discussion we decided to continue up the gully. As we climbed toward the ridge the snow
became even worse. The walls on either
side - much closer now ¬looked horribly unstable. Discretion took the greater part and we
reversed. As we staggered across the
last patches of snow we were hysterical. We had fallen through the snow so often that we were just falling about
laughing. We stayed on the rocks for
some time, eating our witchity grubs and watching a couple of ibex feeding
among the rocks a short distance away.
On the following day we drove to the Mattmark. This is a nice easy way to reach the snow,
the car park being at 2200m (7,218ft). It is a nice place to take the family for a walk. Sunday, being a day of rest, we spent in
preparing our gear for our Matterhorn climb. Late in the afternoon, Bob, Derek and myself piled into Derek's car to
drive to Tasch. The road to Zermatt is
not open to tourists and the only way is to walk or to catch a train from
Tasch. From the train, there was no way
to make us walk from Tasch, we walked through Zermatt towards the Hornlii hut
on the Matterhorn.
The Hornlii hut is four hours walk from Zermatt or two hours
from Schwarzee. From Zermatt, two cable
cars take you to Schwarzee. We, of
course, took the cable cars as far as we could. The walk from the cable station to the hut has been described as an
endless series of zigzags. We described
it in one word. This word was uttered
softly and frequently, with backs bent and gasping for breath. Sh
.!
At about six o'clock we booked into the hut and set about
cooking a meal. Cooking is not allowed
in the dining areas of the hut, but a special room is available at ground
level. We changed our boots for hut
boots - solid wooden clogs with remains of a fur lining and set up our stove to
cook our stew, followed of course by witchity grubs.
On the way up, we passed an American climber who, when
meeting us at the Hut, asked us if he could join in on the climb. This we agreed to. A German climber also joined us. He had climbed the Matterhorn seven times
already, reaching the top twice and was too good to pass up (unpaid guide, my
boy!)
The evening was glorious. From the dormitory window it was possible to look down to Swarzee and
beyond to
We had prepared our gear the evening before. We had religiously read the guidebook and
decided the course of action. We tore
out the pages of route description from the book and put them to more useful
purpose. The guidebook is of little help
in route finding.
At about 3.30 a.m. we started our climb. It was cool with a bright moon. The moon was so bright that our headlights
were only necessary in deep shadow. We
solo until daylight. This is something I
regret in many ways and certainly is something that I don't recommend. Three climbers had been killed doing just
this during the previous week.
The climbing is easy but steep, the rock loose dusty. Below the Solvay Hut (an emergency bivouac
hut) the route become very steep and metal belay spikes have been
provided. The Solvay Hut at 4,000m
(13,123ft) is blessing. I had taken so
many photographs in taking crafty rests that I risked running out of film. This was the highest I had climbed and I was
finding that the height was affected me quite badly. I had to rest for a short while in the
hut. We were all feeling the altitude to
a greater or lesser extent. The hut was
also a good place to leave our heavy gear.
We climber on from the Solvay Hut. Again, steep loose rock until it was time to
put on our crampons. Altitude sickness
usually passes when you have passed your critical altitude - with some of our
party it did not. This left us with the
decision whether to split the party or not. Splitting would have meant leaving people on the mountain from up to 3
hours. This fact and the forecast of
thunderstorms in the afternoon decided us. We turned back at 4,100m (13,451ft) a mere 300m (984ft) from the
top. The worst over, with an easy snow
slope followed by fixed ropes to the top. The fact that the last cable car down from Swarzee left at 6.45 helped
us to decide.
Higher than the Eiger, we could have pushed it to the top,
but it would have left us pretty knackered. The trouble with mountains is that you have to climb back down, and
going on would have drained our energy for the necessary return trip.
We werent pleased to find that the guided parties had gone
through our sacs which we had left in the Solvay Hut and drunk all our
water. This only reinforced our opinion
of the guides. They had climbed over us
going up and now they had taken all our drink. Anyone would think that they owned the mountain. This, of course, did not apply to all of the
guides; we had pleasant conversations with a couple of the older ones.
Money and other considerations being equal, we hope to
return in 1977 to have another go. This
time, we need to be fitter and more acclimatised to the altitude.
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Across:
1. Cops out in Cuthberts
chamber. (7)
4. Direction of travel after pot-bottoming? (2)
5. Small caving operation. (2)
8. Safer bet illustrated by cavers entering and leaving cave. (4,3)
9. Masters of cave follows these. (7)
10. Exclamation. (2)
12. Correct. (1,1)
13. Drunkards walk in formation? (7)
Down
1. See 5 across. (2)
2. Northern trespassers angry in afterthought. (7)
3. Thus. (2)
4. Discover caver underneath muddle without Plumleys. (7)
6. Risk pus with a climbing knot? (7)
5. Individual entries on a list of gear, perhaps? (5).
7. South proverbially mad east Mendip
cave. (7)
11. Old English. (1,1)
12. Officer commanding. (1,1)
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The Belfry,
Chairman S.J. Collins
Minutes Sec G.
Members Chris Batstone, John Dukes, Chris Howell, Tim Large, Mike Wheadon, R. Marshall, Barry Wilton.
Honorary Secretary M.
WHEADON, 91 The Oval, Englishcoombe,
Honorary Treasurer B.
Caving Secretary TIM
LARGE,
Climbing
Secretary R. MARSHALL, 7 Fairacre
Close, Lockleaze,
Hut Warden C.
BATSTONE,
Belfry Engineer J.
DUKES,
Tacklemaster G.
WILTON-JONES, Ilenea,
B.B. Editor S.J.
COLLINS, Lavender Cottage, Bishops Sutton, Nr. Bristol. Tel : CHEW MAGNA 2915
Publications Editor C.
HOWELL,
B.B. Postal BRENDA
Spares T.
LARGE, Address already given
Membership Sec. Mrs. A.
DOOLEY, c/o The Belfry. TO WHOM ALL SUBS
SHOULD BE SENT.
All contribution to the Belfry Bulletin, including those of officers of the club, are not necessarily the opinions of the editor or the committee of the Bristol Exploration Club, unless explicitly stated as being such.
QUODCUMQUE FACIENDUM : NIMIS FACIEMUS
The fact-finding commission of the N.C.A. have visited Mendip as part of their work in trying to find out what ordinary cavers think about N.C.A. We hear that they went out of their way to make sure that they contacted as many and as great a range of cavers as they could, visiting places like Goatchurch, where they might expect to find non-club cavers.
From all accounts, they found their average Mendip caver far better informed than were cavers from other parts of the country. More to the point, they found that the views of those they spoke to were remarkably uniform and very much in line with the views as expressed in the Southern Council.
Perhaps the theory that those who have taken up strong and definite positions on the subject at the Southern Council are just a collection of crackpots, trying to push their way out ideas may now be revised. Perhaps, the views of Mendip cavers may even be listened to!
The letter from Graham, printed in this B.B., raises to my mind some very fundamental questions. The whole structure of regional councils, and hence N.C.A., was originally brought into being because of the difficulties experienced by some Northern clubs in dealing with the landowners of some of the Yorkshire fells over questions of access to the potholes. It now seems that the C.N.C.C. has been faced with a situation in which some cavers are jeopardising the arrangements they have reached with the landowners, but have not been able to resolve the matter.
The existence of a political structure in caving has caused many problems and has made some of us spend much time that could have been put to better use, so that we can make as sure as we can that the structure remains our servant and does not become our master. In spite of having to spend time in this way, many of us have come round to the idea that the councils are worth having, if only to enable caving to defend itself against pressures from the outside. This conclusion is one which has, in some cases, only been reluctantly agreed and there is a danger that if councils show themselves unable to deal with the very matters for which they were formed originally, then more and more people will wonder whether the whole idea is worth the time and effort spend on it. We must hope that the matters reported by Graham will, in fact, be sorted out.
Figures for the 1975 B.B. (Vol 29) are now available. The volume comprised 236 pages - a drop of 20 pages on the 1974 B.B. The contribution of authors was down by 5½ pages to 143½ pages, but the percentage written by authors was up by 3% to 61% of the total.
Even fewer people wrote half the total authors contribution in 1975. 'Wig, Mike Wheadon and Malcolm Jarrett wrote half the 143½ pages between them. In 1974 it took four authors to do this. They were 'Wig' (still top) Andy Nichols (now 12th) Bob Cross (now 22nd) and Graham Wilton-Jones (still 4th). Incidentally, the Wilton-Jones family taken as a whole came third this year with 14½ pages between them.
If anyone is interest in a 'Top Ten', they were, for 1975: - First, 'Wig'; Second, Mike Wheadon; Third, Malcolm Jarrett; Fourth, Graham Wilton-Jones; Fifth, Colin Priddle; Sixth, Derek Sanderson, Tim Reynolds, Chris Howell and Janet Setterington; Tenth, Andy Sparrow.
Alfie
In memory of Gordon, it has been suggested that an appeal for donations be launched for the Society for the Physically Handicapped. Please send any donation to 'Wig'
This article is described by its author - Ian Calder is 'A rather belated account of a trip last summer.' - Better belated than never!
A group of us from South Wales decided to see what some of the Irish caves were like, so one Saturday in August we set out for that centre of the West - Fishguard.
After a rough crossing to Rosslaire and the inevitable two hours delay, we set off again for County Clare in the early evening. A Morris 1000 with three adults, two children and gear for a week is no place for spending four and a half hours on bumpy Irish roads, definitely a journey to forget. Anyway, we arrived at Lisdoonvarna at midnight to find the place heaving with people. It was, of course, chucking out time, as we were soon to learn. We had been told of a campsite at Fanore, and so made our way over dirt tracks, ending up at the site an hour and a half later having been given 'directions' by a helpful native who was holding up a pub along the way!
The next day - or was it the same day? - having been woken at around nine oclock owing to small children, the five of us eventually took off to look at the Doolin River Cave. We rigged the Fisherstreet Pot and went down St. Catherine's I and after a smallish entrance series which seemed to enlarge very uniformly, we found the main system of magnificent canyon passage and fine formations. What a joy to see untouched and un-taped stal. Having crossed under the Aille River, we found the Fisherstreet Pot, had a look towards the sump nearly under the beach, and managed to arrive at O'Connor's at Doolin for a 5.30 p.m. Sunday Guinness. It certainly lives up to its reputation and we took good advantage of the licensing hours.
The next day, we had an excellent through trip Pollnua-Polnagollum-Poulelva. We abseiled into Polnagollum Pot off a rather doubtful chock, only to discover it was much easier to climb out, go round, and then descend without any tackle being necessary. At least we never left the cave, although we did manage to find a way to the 90 foot, pitch of Poulelva and exit there, having rigged it before hand. Back to the site for a swim and some food. The beach here is very good and the surf was exhilarating at least while we were there. The fact that the caves were there as well was almost an added bonus.
We even struggled off to a cave the day after, although the Guinness was beginning to get through by now, and had a look at the Coolagh River Cave. We didn't get very far inside owing to the fact that there seemed to be too much crawling for our physical condition. We had also been warned that this cave was liable to rapid and severe flooding and so our natural idleness and cowardice took us off to the nearest pub to restore our spirits. We did walk a little over the 'burren' - a wild and desolate area of bare limestone, but saw nothing which even remotely resembled a cave. Sickening!
My last excursion underground was into Collaun 5, and I can certainly recommend this cave to anyone. It is possible to do an exchange trip if you can find the right entrances. Our maps, being some sixty years out of date, weren't very helpful. The main entrance (5) is by the road and easy. A couple of us tried to find 5d and only after an hour and a half of hunting did we stumble upon it. For anybody who wants to look for this entrance I can only say that it is by a fence and very close to the edge of the NOW forest. We joined up inside the cave and decided to bottom it. This was well worth the effort. There are some magnificently decorated ox-bows and the end is quite large, although it closes down to very unstable-looking boulder choke.
We returned via opposite routes and I am glad to say that the others had almost as much difficulty in picking up the road once they were out of 5d than we had going the other way.
Others went to see the stal in Pol an Ionian, whilst I baby-sat, but that pretty well sums up the active side of our Ireland visit. Thanks to 'Wig' for his information and helpful hints beforehand!
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PLEASE SEND SUBSCRIPTIONS TO A. DOOLEY, 51 OSMASTON ROAD, HARBOURNE, BIRMINGHAM 17. MAKE CHEQUES, POSTAL ORDERS ETC. OUT TO The Bristol Exploration Club and remember please that the current rate is £2.50 for single membership and £3.50 for joint membership. Please also let Angie Dooley or Brenda Wilton know of any change of address and a big thank you to all those who thoughtfully enclose a stamped envelope with their fees!
We have three letters of some importance this month.
The first letter is the one which has already been mentioned in the editorial from Graham Wilton-Jones.
Dear Alfie,
On Saturday, February 7th, a special meeting of all member clubs of C.N.C.C. was held at Ingleton. The meeting was advertised with the sensationalist headline POTHOLING BANNED ON NORTHERN FELLS. It was held because several events have occurred recently which could have serious consequences upon caving in Yorkshire. Specifically, they are:-
a. The landowner of LECK FELL is making things difficult for cavers.
b. There have been two rescues from BIRKS FELL CAVE. Both parties were 'pirating' access and both were in the close season.
c. There has been a great deal of pirating on PENYGHENT. The landowner has recently died, and therefore it is at present very difficult to negotiate a new access agreement.
Thirty three clubs were represented at the meeting. This was utter chaos. Club representatives were asked if their committees could guarantee or prevent their member from pirating access agreement. Only nineteen said that they could. Of the fourteen who said that they could no, or would not, one representative - a diver from Preston C.C. - admitted to being the phantom diver who had pirated several dives in the north, and assured the meeting that he would continue his present practice of disregarding all access agreements. Another representative, also a member of C.R.O., backed up his view. Uproar naturally ensued. After three hours, the meeting was ended, nothing having been achieved.
In the view of some of us Southerners, we face a number of possibilities:-
a. Cavers will continue to pirate access on an increasing scale until landowners, fed up with all this, will begin to block entrances almost irretrievably. This has been done before.
b. Landowners will find it necessary to gate caves - a difficult and expensive process, almost impossible in many cases - and certain cavers have assured the C.N.C.C. that they will use bang to destroy such gates. This would lead to ALL cavers bang licences being withdrawn - a simple matter for the authorities concerned.
c. Landowners will prosecute trespassers and the fells.
d. Landowners will finally realize that money is to be made out of cavers.
This last is the most likely, for certain cavers are NOT prepared to sit around waiting for committees to sort out impossible access agreements. They are already impossible in that cavers are not able to ensure that all other cavers will comply with the access regulations. Cavers basically want to cave and, whether they think so or not, they are prepared to pay to do so.
For myself, it costs me at least £5 travelling for a Mendip weekend; £8 for South Wales and at least £10 for Yorkshire. Other cavers must be in a similar position over travelling costs. My caving gear is worth about £115 plus a further £125 for rope. These amounts are not unusual. At these prices, I see no reason against paying, say, £1 per head for a caving trip in Yorkshire.
What will happen if landlords realise that caves are a source of income? Someone only has to offer money on one occasion, and the avalanche has started - soon to spread throughout the fells. I, for one, would consider myself far better off under these circumstances as a caver. No longer the bother of booking up weeks or months in advance: Were almost back to the days when a friendly word at a farmhouse door is all that is required - plus a few of those green things and spontaneous caving is back, just as it still exists on Mendip.
Our club is affiliated to C.N.C.C. and although we have no voting rights, we are clearly deeply involved in such matters as this. Other people within the club must have their own views. Lets hear them.
Graham
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The next letter is from Tim Large, the Caving Secretary, who has comments to make about the N.C.A. Equipment Committee. He writes as follows:-
Dear Alfie,
I would like to add my comments to those already published in recent B.B.s concerning the N.C.A. Equipment committee.
Like Dave, I too am concerned about the ideas of such a committee for much the same reasons, but would now like to look at the question from a cavers point of view.
On the whole, the available equipment (be it ropes, krabs, descendeurs etc.) is of a very good standard. The manufacturers are well aware of the reliance placed on their products and have long experience in dealing with climbing and caving requirements. In this respect, the committee has its purpose, as I see it, in passing on cavers needs to the manufacturers and to publicise any information regarding faulty items that do get on to the retail market.
It seems to me that the N. C.A. equipment committee was primarily instigated with the advent of S.R.T. and its ever increasing popularity. O.K. So, like everything else, there are teething problems with these new techniques (as there were with electron ladders initially) but these were overcome.
Now I know you are going to say "Yes, but there has been this accident or that, so we must needs improve our tackle." Well, go ahead! Caving is a pastime which attracts independent minds and inventive skills so modify your equipment yourself!
The main fault, and I would suggest reason, for recent accidents (particularly with regard to S.R.T.) are the bad techniques employed when using tackle. Ropes are not meant to be rubbed against sharp limestone with a hundred and fifty pounds swinging on the end. They should be belayed in such a position that they hang free or should be protected in some way if this is not possible. A classic example of this problem is the present belaying points in Rhino Rift. It would not surprise me to hear of a rope breaking down there, through what can only amount to misuse. In Rhino's case it may prove difficult to provide free-hanging belay points, but not impossible for those who value their life!
Think back, over past caving trips, to all those small incidents that could have proved disastrous - screw gate not done up, hence the krab opens up when passed against the rock. Knots not tied correctly. Rawlbolts not fitted correctly. Whistle signals not known by all members of the party, hence lifelines go slack and someone peels. The list could go on. It all points to incompetence or misuse in the handling of tackle and NOT to actual tackle failures. It may take more time to do things properly, but surely this is half the pleasure to be able to overcome an obstacle as safely as possible. I know there are those amongst us who like to gallop around caves at high speed - which is very enjoyable providing that you are competent to do so, both with regard to your own safety and the preservation of the cave.
S.R.T. has become the 'in' thing because, so many would have us believe, it saves time and means less tackle to carry - assuming you live to carry it out! If done safely, within the limitations of the ropes available, S.R.T. can still be a useful method in certain circumstances. Of course, it would be very nice to have a hard wearing, high tensile strength, low stretch, anti-spin rope for S. R. T. and, given time, I am sure the manufacturers could produce something - but at a price! I suggest that the price would be so high as to make it commercially impracticable to develop. Whereas, by the use of currently available ropes and by treating them respectfully with good rope techniques and by discarding such ropes at regular intervals, the current ropes would prove satisfactory, as I have no doubt many people have found out.
So, once more I say that the value of an Equipment Committee is very limited and, certainly as far as I am concerned, would NOT include providing testing facilities for any equipment. This committee, and the N.C.A. as a whole, do what cavers want, and would do well to remember that those elected to the various committees are merely acting as the cavers' mouthpiece - to be given teeth only when we, the active cavers, desire it. Long live the true spirit of independent caving.
Yours very sincerely,
Tim Large.
Editor's Note: I would go even further, and suggest that if the intention is merely to inform manufacturers of the needs of cavers, or to inform cavers of the products of manufacturers, it hardly needs a committee, since the job can easily be handled by one man. On the other hand, the publicising of faulty products is something which has to be approached very warily indeed, since it has to be proved that the product was being used at all times within the limitations laid down by the manufacturer and was not subject to any form of abuse. The remainder of Tim's letter shows how difficult this might be to prove.
Another danger implied by Tim is that some form of 'official' approval by an N.C.A. committee might give the impression that there was no need for the normal care of equipment once it had been approved. One final point - the whistle code Tim mentions is S.U.D. in case any caver feels too proud to ask. One blast for STOP, two for UP and three for DOWN.
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Now, a member's views on another controversial subject that of school caving and affiliation of such bodies to caving clubs.
Dear Alfie,
Re school caving groups becoming affiliated to the B.E.C. Here are one or two thoughts I would like to raise:-
Yours,
Ian Calder.
Ian's letter deserves a fairly lengthy comment, because it raises a number of points about which some members are known to feel strongly, but which I suspect they may not be informed of the present situation. Taking Ian's letter paragraph by paragraph:-
I hope that these remarks may go some way towards putt' Ian's and other members minds at rest on this subject. Any further correspondence will, of course, be welcome.
A list sent in by the Belfry Engineer, who hopes that members will take the hint!
If you are not sure what needs doing, after reading this list of jobs, please see either the Hut Warden or the Belfry Engineer. You will probably need to bring your own tools, and if materials are needed, get them yourself and give us the bill. If you do not feel like doing any of the jobs yourself, come along to a working weekend with tools (if you have any) and the Hut Warden or Engineer will show you what needs doing - or write in for information.
1. Scrub down walls and ceilings to remove grease etc.
2. Plaster wall by front door.
3. Cold water supply to Womens Room needs connecting up in the attic.
4. Tidy up attic and re-lay insulation (see Hut Warden for key of the attic.)
5. Installation of two airbricks or similar ventilating bricks between library and Mens Room and between library and main room.
6. Scrubbing down paintwork on lockers
7. Fixing bunks in Womens Room securely to the walls.
8. Levelling floor in main shower room.
9. Washing floor in main room.
10. Building a wall across the car park from the manhole cover by the front door to the drinking pond. The foundations for this wall are already in position.
11. Levelling the ground and tidying up outside generally.
12. A drystone wall needs building at the end of the car park adjacent to the drinking pond to retain hardcore. Use existing half blocks from rubble pile which has been levelled.
Plus, of course, anything else which looks as if it ought to be done - only please check first before you do it in case your ideas clash with any plans the Hut Warden or the Hut Engineer may have. The committee recently agreed to spend some money on making the Belfry a better place to stay at - but your help is needed so that we can spend our money sensibly and get value for it.
A TRIP TO THE NEW EXTENSION (RECENTLY DISCOVERED BY CAVING INSTRUCTORS FROM WHERNSIDE MANOR)
From the 'terminal' chamber of Cascade Inlet, as described in 'Northern Caves' (Whernside & Tragareth), two notable extensions have recently been discovered. One of these, a continuation of the thirty foot climb to an inlet on the right hand side of the chamber, is adequately described in 'Descent' No 32.
The other starts off as a muddy and somewhat unstable route through the boulder choke from which the Main Water emerges. After a short squeeze up through boulders to the right of the stream entry, one enters a small mucky cavern sloping steeply upwards and consisting partly of loose boulders. Care is needed here, as anything dislodged will funnel straight down into the squeeze. A further climb up through boulders at the top left hand side of this chamber leads to a similar cavern with a mud and boulder strewn floor. From here, the way on is forward and to the right, dropping down between the boulders into an impressive flat roofed tunnel which continues for a disappointingly short distance before becoming too low. Tributary streams enter it from impenetrable fissures to the left and right.
The only exit from this tunnel is an obvious inlet on the right at the start of the larger passage. A thrutch over a rocking boulder marks the beginning of this fine meandering stream trench, which is about four feet high and has some large blocks at intervals which create some interesting crawls at roof level. Finally, in a small sandy chamber, the roof dips sharply to tight bedding with two miniature rock arches creating an interesting tight duck for about three feet. Beyond this, a short tube followed by a squeeze leads to a high passage at right angles. This continues under a high chamber with a washed out shale band containing many fine straws. It then swings to the left and for a very short distance resumes the proportions of the earlier stream trench.
Here, the way forks. To the left, one enters an area of bedding and boulder chaos, the threshold of which is blocked by a magnificent static pool of crystal-clear water. Reflected in this is a delightful array of straws. No doubt, this will not be allowed to remain like it is for long.
The right fork of the passage is the main route consists of a rift, sloping steeply upwards through mud and over boulder obstacles until, after levelling out for a short way, the passage abruptly chokes. At this point the stream is once again encountered, trickling down through pools in a high rift which joins the passage at right angles. Traversing at different levels becomes increasingly difficult as the slippery walls of the rift begin to close in. Eventually, it becomes too tight.
It would appear that this passage ends in a region somewhere near Thorny Pot and, apart from adding on a sizeable chunk to the already varied and extensive West Kingsdale system, it will be an inviting prospect for further exploration, with the possibility of pushing a route through to a top entrance, thus creating yet another through trip in the system.
Dave Metcalfe.
Some items of news from the Sec.
Although the committee has been progressing the event since last October, the time is rapidly approaching when we must come to a decision about this years dinner and therefore I feel that we should test the membership response via the columns of the B.B.
Following last years dinner came two complaints mainly, objections to the venue and objection as to the menu. To try to overcome these objections, the club approached many restaurant organisations to get their, response to putting on a reasonable dinner for the 200 or so of us at a reasonable price. We have had NO offers to date.
In addition to the complaints of venue, there has been a suggestion from some members that we emulate more our roar northerly cousins and include a 'stomp' or disco with dinner. Yet a further suggestion is that we hold a buffet dinner coupled with a dance. My assessment, after talking to a few members is that none of these would be popular, but your views would be appreciated.
The situation at present is as follows: - We cannot have the next dinner at the Blue School as it is fully booked for October and has now become very expensive. We have therefore, in the absence of response from any other caterer, asked Arthur Laws to research possible locations for the next dinner and submit menus and costs. Two possible locations are Glastonbury Town Hall and the new centre at Shepton Mallet.
We are hoping that the next dinner will be up to our normally high standards and will include the traditional entertainment, which was clearly missed last year. So if you have any thoughts, please let the committee know.
Whether or not we are losing members at a similar rate to our acceptance of newcomers, I cannot say but we have over the past couple of months managed to trap one errant back into the fold and recruited several new bods:
New members are:
Alistair Simpson: 30 Channel
Heights, Bleadon Hill, Weston S.M.
David Lampard: Woodpeckers, 11 Springfield Pk Rd, Horsham, Sussex
Steven Woolven: 21 Three Acres, Horsham, Sussex.
Ken Roebuck: c/o P.O.'s Mess, H.M.S. Daedalus, Lee on Solent, Hants.
Nick Thorne: 20 Hawkers Lane, Wells, Somerset.
Peter Shearman: Wood View, Grayfield, High Littleton, Bath.
Jim Andrews: 43 Portway, Wells, Somerset
Graham Nye: 7 Ramsey Close, Horsham, Sussex.
Andrew Higginbottom: Warana, Hill Lea Gardens, Cheddar.
Barrie Wilton would like to advise that this is your last chance to own a B.E.C. car badge at the £1.75 price. If you don't get your bid in quickly, youll have to pay more or the same item in future.
John Dukes's next working weekend is planned for the 8/9 of May, so roll up and help make the Belfry better.
'Sett' is once again organising a weekend for older club members to meet each other. This year it will be from Friday, 11th June to Sunday 13th June.
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Across:
6. Suitable place for post in
G.B. (6,3)
7. See 1 across and 12 down. (6)
10. Large number of high cave passages form typical mine working! (6)
13. Lion ate me erratically, one imagines! (9)
Down
1. and 7. Well known Mendip
underground place. (3,6)
2. Starting point for worrying, if not met. (1,1,1)
3. Ore train found on certain edge perhaps. (9)
4. Die down perhaps with Bertie in the middle. (5)
5. Passage type found in G.B., Swildons, Stoke. (2-3)
8. Optimum state of affairs found after affectionate plural in Hunters. (5).
9. Make of 10 across sounds young. (5)
11. 9 down and cavers both do this. (3)
12. and 7. Contrasting place to 1 and 7
in same cave. (3)
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The Belfry,
Chairman S.J. Collins
Minutes Sec G.
Members Chris Batstone, John Dukes, Chris Howell, Tim Large, Mike Wheadon, Barry Wilton.
Honorary Secretary M.
WHEADON, 91 The Oval, Englishcoombe,
Honorary Treasurer B.
Caving Secretary TIM
LARGE,
Climbing Secretary THIS POST IS NOW IN ABEYANCE.
Hut Warden C.
BATSTONE,
Belfry Engineer J.
DUKES,
Tacklemaster G.
WILTON-JONES, Ilenea,
B.B. Editor S.J.
COLLINS, Lavender Cottage, Bishops Sutton, Nr. Bristol. Tel : CHEW MAGNA 2915
Publications Editor C.
HOWELL,
B.B. Postal BRENDA
Spares T.
LARGE, Address already given
Membership Sec. Mrs. A.
DOOLEY, c/o The Belfry. TO WHOM ALL SUBS
SHOULD BE SENT.
All contribution to the Belfry Bulletin, including those of officers of the club, are not necessarily the opinions of the editor or the committee of the Bristol Exploration Club, unless explicitly stated as being such.
QUODCUMQUE FACIENDUM : NIMIS FACIEMUS
The editor would like to take this opportunity to wish all
club members; all readers of the B.B. and all cavers everywhere a very Merry
Christmas and a Happy New Year,
Unless somebody comes up with a scheme for distributing the
B. B. a damn sight more cheaply than the Post Office currently charges, the
days of the large Christmas B.B. are probably a thing of the past. Apart from a shortage of contributions, the
size of this one has been chosen to be the maximum which will go for the lower
rate when the limit is reduced next year from 60 to 50 grams.
Next month, the thirtieth volume of the B.B. begins. The 29 volumes so far produced since the B.B.
started in 1947 have been edited by a total of 7 club members, of which the
other six have produced 12 volumes between them. There are no prizes for guessing how many
have been produced by your present editor.
It seems a good time to remind members that when I came back
to the job in 1970, having retired in 1967, it was on a temporary basis until
some new editor could be found.
That, of course, was five years ago now and nobody appears
to be clamouring to do the job. I am
finding it increasingly difficult to carry on, at any rate to carry on
single-handed because I get less free time than I once had and feel that I am
not on Mendip enough to chase up contributions the way I should.
What I would like to suggest is that a volunteer be found
who would be prepared - to start with - to give me a hand. The details can be sorted out when a suitable
volunteer is found. From this point on,
there are three possibilities. The
Assistant Editor can remain as such, in which case I would be prepared to carry
on. The Assistant Editor can gradually
take over, in which case I would be happy to retire at whatever stage suited
us. The third possibility is that the Assistant Editor would get fed up, in
which case we would have to find another. By this means, somebody could come forward without committing himself
(or herself) too deeply to start with. If they found the job to their liking, they could take it over
completely. If they did not, they could
leave and some other bloke be found. I
would like the club to take this seriously, because I realise that I cannot do
the job alone for much longer, so I hope the club will hear my plea for help!
Traditionally, the Christmas B.B. contains some element of
would be humour. Owing to the fact
already mentioned that I am finding it hard to get people to make contributions
of articles etc. for the B. B., a great deal of space is taken up in this B.B.
by my own annual screed for which I apologise to one and all.
Yes, once more you are stuck with Pete Pushem and his band
of mythical B.E.C. members - and once again, can only hope that the future as
painted by this tale will never actually come to pass!
Alfie
The Editor would like to apologise to one and all, and
especially to our Membership Secretary - Angie Dooley for the errors in the
list of members published in the last B. B. It appears that he did not have an up-to-date list and suitable
corrections will appear in the next B.B.
The Hut Warden would like to appeal for MATRESSES, LARGE
DINNER PLATES and DINING CHAIRS. If
anyone has any of these or other useful items, please bring them out or contact
Chris Batstone, who will arrange transport,
A Monthly Miscellany, by Wig
203. Additions to the Library: Two large
piles of new material are to be installed in the club library. B.C.R.A. Transactions and Bulletins, and
other club exchanges make good reading. The Limestone and Caves of Mendip has been purchased by the club. This year it is hoped to rebuild the
collection of cave surveys and these will be available for reference only
because of the large capital sum involved and the difficulty of replacement.
204. Who did it? I'm led to understand that it wasn't Tony
Johnson who donated the collection of C.D.G. newspaper cuttings to the club
library. Perhaps the kind donor would
let 'wig' know who he was?
205. Christmas at the Belfry: At the
time of writing publication dates are not my problem! - it appears that a boozy
time was had by all. No doubt Mike W.
will be giving a suitable account.
206. Politics again: The N.C.A.
recognises that there is a feeling throughout the country that cavers are not
exactly happy with N.C.A. Some, in fact,
would like to see it go quietly into a corner and die. Others see it as being purely an organisation
for the cave politicians to play expensive games with, and producing a great
mountain of paperwork. As a result, the
N.C.A. have formed a special committee consisting of Phil Davies (W.C.C.) Nigel
Dibben (D.C.C. and B.E.C.) Alan Ashwell (S.W.C.C.) and Jack Rasdell. This team is roving around the regions to
listen to the caving population - to listen to YOUR views. The meeting for the Southern Region is being
held at the Hunters on the weekend of February 14/15. If you as individuals have any thoughts about
N.C.A. and how it should work then go ahead and speak your mind. I realise that most cavers are cheesed off
with politics or have never been interested in the first place. However, there is no doubt that the need for
a national body does exist. Pressures
from the Department of Education and Science; the Nature Conservancy; the National
Parks add to pressures from bodies like Local Education Authorities, the Sports
Council and the C.C.P.R. The public are
waking up to the fact that caves exist and are another source of leisure
activity. The horror of the situation is
that very few of the people who are clamouring to use caves will ever become
second trip cavers - the first trip will satisfy their curiosity. Should cavers adopt an elitist attitude and
try to close caves to outsiders by taking over control of all available
caves? Do we try to reduce the numbers
of new participants by negotiation with the various organisations
concerned? To do either, we need a
national organisation that can represent cavers views. Most cavers agree up to this point, but areas
of disagreement start when we consider how the N.C.A. should operate. Should it be the hub that directs all caving
activity - or should it be something which merely keeps itself in a state of
readiness to take on external problems when they arrive? One last point. Grants will only be made to a governing body
of any sort - in our case to N.C.A. Such
grant aid is available, for example, to help establish permanent entrances to
caves.
Editor's
Note: And that, unless 'Wig' changes
his mind, is the end of 'Round and About' - the longest running feature which
has appeared in the B.B. Many readers
have told me how useful they have found the information which 'Wig' has so
consistently brought to our attention. If find that we cannot 'lean on' Dave Irwin to carry on, then the sort
of information collecting that he has been doing is something that we need a
volunteer to take on. Failing that, we
must hope that 'Mik' might be able to expand his activities and peregrinate
amongst active cavers!
A very big and public 'thank you', Wig, for over two hundred
items of news!
Hilston,
20th January 1976.
The Editor, Belfry Bulletin.
Dear Sir,
Having read item 194 in 'Round and About' I am, to say the
least, incensed.
'Wig' has every right to his personal opinions, for many of
which I have the greatest respect. However, this article seemed written purely to inflame the 'Them against
Us' feeling that is destroying the credibility of the C.S.C.C. (which, of
course, includes us.)
The setting up of an Equipment Committee represents perhaps
the first action of the N.C.A. that is not purely political. It is, too, likely to be of real use to
cavers since the committee will give honest and unbiased reports on equipment;
will liaise with manufacturers to produce new equipment etc.
The reaction from a few Mendip cavers has been 'anti' the
Equipment Committee - it is so very easy to criticise and not so easy actually
to do the work - but I can confidently say from many discussion in the Hunters
etc. that most cavers in the region genuinely want the committee to exist. I myself feel that it is in the interest of
any active caver to at least give the committee a chance to prove its value.
Yours, etc.,
Mike Cowlinshaw.
*****************************************
A reply from 'Wig' follows.
Although this reply will be somewhat belated, as Mike and I
will have discussed the current situation and hopefully cleared the air, an
immediate reply to Mikes letter before this happens might still be
useful. I feel that the comments I made
were far from being critical except for a certain amount of journalistic
licence in my title! I was writing as a
member of B.E.C. and not as the Hon. Sec. of the C.S.C.C. It is, of course, difficult to wear two caps
at once. I merely reported that C.S.C.C.
had voted to refer the Equipment special Committee's report back to them for a
more detailed account of what they intended to do in 1976. The report lacked specific details of their
intended actions, and C.S.C.C. felt that it was not prepared to contribute
towards the sum of £200 of their anticipated administrative costs that has to
be financed by the regional and other constituent bodies of N.C.A. (these costs
are not grant aided) without more specific details that were worth this high cost. I'm sure that any club committee that spent
£70 on the report issued by this committee (£70 was its cost) would have been
thrown out by its club members in no time at all!
However, having said that, I hope that I balanced matters by
asking for any professionally qualified person who was interested in helping
with the work of this committee to come forward. Finally, Mike's comment that local cavers
want this committee to exist frankly surprises me, but if this is true, he'd
better get them to attend a C.S.C.C. meeting and ensure that their views are
heard.
Your editor (thinly disguised as the chairman the C.S.C.C.)
would also like to make a comment on this letter.
The aspect of Mike's letter which I find a trifle disturbing
is that the C.S.C.C. is generally 'anti' just about everything - and that this
intransigent attitude is destroying its credibility elsewhere.
At the risk of sticking my neck right out, I feel that the
C.S.C.C. have adopted an attitude of hard commonsense over the last few
years. The fact that this attitude has
brought it into conflict with some of the other constituent bodies of N.C.A. is
unfortunate but possibly inevitable. The
C.S.C.C. are not against things just for the hell of it, but because in many
cases, they feel that they have thought the thing through and can see snags
which might have been overlooked in the general enthusiasm for getting
something done.
In the case of the report in question, it is vague. I am sure that Mike, in his professional
capacity at work, would not think much of a report which gave no details as to
exactly what work was proposed, together with a cost and time estimate for each
section of the proposed task.
Without such detail, we are in no position to know exactly
what is planned. For example, it has
been estimated by two people independently (one of whom is associated with the
special committee) that to write a realistic specification for the 'Cave
Qualification' of ropes for use as lifelines, taking ropes which are already
manufactured to a general specification, might cost from £30,000 to £50,000 if
carried out in professional labs to a standard approaching that of a B.S.
Bearing in mind the authority that such findings may be
credited with (even if the Special Committee did not intend their results to be
used in this way) some people think that nothing less than an equivalent B.S.
standard would be of any real use. Imagine a bloke saying Our lifeline was a rope which the N.C.A. said
would stand 50 hours of underground use providing it was visually checked
between trips. We did this, and it had
only been used for a tota1 of 16 hours when the fatality occurred. Members of the Equipment Special Committee
could be in for a pretty rough ride after such an inquest. Like Wig, we are not saying "Stop
it", so much as saying "Please tell us more about what you intend to
do, so that we can judge if we think it is sensible, or practical, or even
possible."
Another thrilling episode in the Wilton-Jones saga
by Graham Wilton-Jones
It is still more comforting to spend two trips, laddering
on one and de-laddering on the other. (David Heap)
I can think of nothing less comfortable than doing two trips
into Penyghent Pot, even if spaced by a week or so of work. Perhaps carrying
all the tackle in and out on the same trip could be worse, but our Fred had
arranged better than that. He had
organised three groups; one to start early on Saturday morning and ladder the
pot to the bottom; a back-up party to help tackle hauling through the canal as
necessary; and us - Fred, Bernard, Brian, Throstle, Bucket and Graham - do
de-rig. We were to go down about mid
day.
Originally I had decided to spend the weekend on Mendip, but
a phone call from Bucket on Friday morning changed my mind. So having dashed down from
The days caving did not start well. We were not at all welcome at a certain
caving headquarters near Horton, where we had previously stayed on a number of
occasions. However, such pettiness was
soon left behind as we climbed. Jangling
with hardware, up the slopes of Penyghent. Across the fields we saw the back-up party heading towards the 'Crown' -
sensible fellows. Up at the entrance to
the pot, a small orange tent was the only sign that anyone was 'at home'.
By 1.30 we were all making our ungainly way through the
canals and crawls of the entrance passage. The stooping, hands and knees progress and flat-out crawling in icy cold
water sometimes half-filling the passage is not excessively arduous, but it can
be slow, awkward and painful as it proved when we returned, tired and worn,
with piles of tackle.
When we finally reached the first pitch we were all
surprised to find two ladders belayed there. However, we soon discovered the reason, for up the passage came a party
from a
The second stretch of passage is designed for people who are
five feet high and involves almost continuous stooping all the way down to the
next pitch. Fred turned back because of
old injuries which this aggravated. This
section was soon over and, below the next pitch, we found ourselves lying flat
in a bedding plane looking out over a big pitch with no sign of a ladder. Had we read the appropriate literature more
carefully, we would have been quicker to find the alternative descent to the
left. The first 18m (59 feet) section of
this is free-climbable, but the ladder for the next 20m (66 feet) or so, hangs
mostly free near one wall of this wind and spray swept pot.
The rift passage that follows contains a number of short,
vertical sections, roughly half of which are free climbable. Mostly we were in the stream, but
occasionally it was easier or drier to traverse above for a while and climb
down at a more convenient point. Suddenly the passage drops out of this joint-controlled rift, down a
short cascade and into a bedding plane. A little bit of wading brought us into the Boulder Chamber - a brief
enlargement of the passage with an aven and some large loose fill.
Here we caught up with the tackling party, led by Mick. They had had some difficulty in finding the
route in the Rift Passage, where it is possible to traverse at the wrong level
(as in Dowber Gill) and so had lost time. While they now set off on the last section, we sat around to let them
get ahead and consulted the survey. After some time and some food, we continued down between boulders and
the edge of the chamber, back into the stream. Below the next pitch, in the half-flooded bedding plane, we came upon
the slightly warmer water emerging from the inlet from Hunt Pot. I had a look along the passage, but the
thought of crawling in all that water did not appeal. Bucket had to go up and look as well, and shouted
back that he could stand up, and that the passage went on like that. Disbelievingly, we crawled along and came,
indeed, upon a brief rise in roof level, only to see B.C.T. crawling along the
next bit of bedding plane, muttering excuses about not saying that the standing
up section went on for ever. We told him
to come back and not be so silly, which he did. We continued downstream.
These final sections of passage are not joint-controlled but do follow the jointing fairly closely. This results in the floor being cut up with deep grooves, just right for twisting ankles or braking legs. We therefore went more slowly and with caution.
We rapidly descended the next two pitches and caught up with
the advance party once again, who were having some difficulty in laddering the
final pitch
Soon we were down at the sump, where we lingered a while -
for the advance team had only just begun its exit. Although foam was visible high up in the roof
in places, we were not particularly concerned, since the forecast was excellent
and conditions had been dry for some time. We had not gone far on the route out when we caught up with the other
team again - and this occurred on several of the pitches. The journey back to the surface was fairly
straightforward. We had abseiled down
most of the drops and I was to self-lifeline out first. However, this only proved necessary on the
big, open 20m (66ft.). On this I had
great difficulty moving my Jumar up the rope, and hung on the rope several
times to get more tension in it. (Brian
held it at the bottom). I was therefore
just a trifle upset when I reached the top to find this line, with a bight part
way along it, casually draped over a rounded flake of rock and a bloke's hand
on the top to stop it jumping or slipping off. After a few pleasant words about belaying, I lifelined the next man up
and we started hauling tackle. Except
for one silly display of incompetence, when the tackle fell from a great height
- scattering those below - all went well. I must stress that this incident was the fault of the collectors and
tiers, not the haulers. We only hauled the
tackle up the 18m (59ft) and the 20m (66ft). On all the other pitches it was possible to carry it or hand it up. Perhaps this was a mistake on the first
pitch, for the take-off is rather awkward and carrying tackle up this was, at
least for me, a great effort. From the
bottom of this pitch to the end of the canal was hard and the only thing that
made me hurry was the thought of a jar at the Crown.
So at last we reached the entrance, after eight hours. Willing hands appeared - I don't know whether
they were from the laddering or the back-up team - and helped us out with the equipment. Thanks, anyway, and thank you, Fred, for such
excellent organisation. You missed a
good trip, but I shan't go again. Once
is enough for anyone!
The title of this article did say 'Weekend', so I suppose
some mention of the following day should be made, Fred's house is not too far
from a disused railway viaduct which has 70 foot (21m) arches. After bones and muscles had recovered a
little and I.B.S. had diminished, we went out for a couple of hours A & P -
or S.R.T. - or whatever you like to call it.
I think that when I give up caving, I shall take up railway
arching!
-------- I --------
It is a fine spring afternoon. In the board room of British Caves Limited,
the bright sunshine falls on bone china teacups and polished mahogany. We are moving in very distinguished circles,
for a board meeting is in progress. The
Chairman and Managing Director, Sir Percival Makepenny is speaking.
.and this, I regret
to say, leaves only one last possibility. Gentlemen, I am in no doubt that our prototype Mark III cave is being
sabotaged.
The Marketing and Sales Director is head to mutter something
about 'those rats from Plasticave'. Sir Percival turns towards the source of
this interruption and continues,
"Commercial sabotage by our competitors can be ruled
out. We have got to look elsewhere. The situation is so serious that I took the
unprecedented step of meeting the Chief Executive of Plastcaves, Ted Tacky. It seems that their research is proceeding on
very different lines to our own, and we are, in effect, aiming at different
markets. We can hardly be said to be
competitors at this stage, and they would have no motive for any form of
sabotage.
Perhaps, Sir Percival, smoothly suggests the Company
Secretary, You would give us a little more detail?"
Sir Percival absentmindedly picks up his teacup, mutters
Cheers and drinks it down, spluttering on the unexpected tealeaves. It would appear, he says at last, that
Plasticaves are aiming at what one might call the coastal market. Their new model is designed to float and can
be moored on any convenient body of water. Of course, they are emphasising cheapness of installation. I might add, says Sir Percival in his best
lecturing manner, That British Caves have always aimed at providing a
traditional cave, soundly constructed of British steel and concrete. Speaking frankly, gentlemen, I regard
Plasticaves' venture as little more than a flashy gimmick. Supposing one of their new models breaks away
from its moorings and drifts out to sea with a full complement of school cavers
aboard? Apart from the outcry that would
occur if it sank with all cavers, can you imagine being seasick in tight
bedding plane? No, gentlemen, I fancy we
can forget all aspects of Plasticaves."
There is a discreet murmur of approval, until the members of
the board recollect that they are there to solve a problem rather than to slate
their competitors. Sir Percival clears
his throat and returns to the main theme.
"The Mark III is of crucial importance to this company,
and we must have it operational. As you
know, gentlemen, the Sports Council, for ease of administration, insisted at
the time our first caves were put into service to cater for the growing demand
for caves, that all cave should be identical in design. That was why the so-call natural caves were
all sealed up as soon as enough of ours and, I regret, Plasticaves, models had
been opened. At first, we had enough
work just catering for the demand and the Mark I was installed over most of the
country. Then we developed the Mark II,
which is designed to be erected above ground and which has proved such a great
success in East Anglia and other low-lying areas where the deep excavations
required for the Mark I were not really practicable. The Mark III contains a number of new
features which, if they are successfully demonstrated, will convince the Sports
Council of the need to install them in all our existing caves to bring them up
to a new uniform standard. I need hardly
add that the increased sales will result in a corresponding increase in
Directors' salaries. We must get the
Mark III operational.
There is an awkward silence, broken Technical Director. I have on my staff, he suggests, a keen young engineer who we might well
entrust with on-the-spot investigation. He is both intelligent and discreet.
Nobody else having any ideas, there is a general murmur of
assent.
-------- II --------
Sid Spanner, for it is he who has been selected for this
delicate task, climbs wearily down the ladder to Checkpoint 13. Once again, he looks through the view
port. He sees a narrow bedding plane
through which successions of schoolboys are crawling. He broods on his problem as he idly watches
their slow progress. All the mechanical
systems work perfectly. The adjustable
squeezes adjust. The hydraulics are spot
on. The DRY-NORMAL-FLOOD control
leaves nothing to be desired. The
automatic sump drainer, which can empty the sump in five seconds should a caver
stop moving through, works every time. The only thing wrong is the new infra-red lighting, which enables the
supervisors to watch cavers even when they appear to be in complete darkness,
and even that fault is confined to a particular section of the cave. Sid is baffled. His gaze returns to the view port. A particularly fat schoolboy is halfway
through the squeeze. With a sudden
vicious twist of the appropriate levers, Sid closes the squeeze down two
notches and sets the water control to FLOOD. He is losing his temper.
-------- III --------
It is later that same day. Sid's temper has now been restored by two cups of canteen tea which he
has imbibed in the Supervisor's Canteen - situated between Checkpoints 7 and
8. Whilst in the canteen, he has become
convinced that the decision to convert one of the earliest Mark I caves to this
new Mark III standard has been a mistake. In Sid's opinion, the firm should have built a brand new cave. Besides, he muses, this cave is on Mendip -
one of the old notorious natural caving areas - now, happily, a thing of the
past. He distrusts the entire setup.
He decides to return to the problem area, that part of the
cave quite near the bottom and viewed from Check points 16 and 17. Arriving at Checkpoint 16, he looks into the
bottom of the Main Chamber. A small
group of scruffy looking older individuals is passing through. They must, Sid reflects, be some of the few
club cavers left. He returns to the
ladder and descends once more.
At Checkpoint 17, all is now in darkness. Sid waits for the arrival of the party he has
just seen. In a few moments, he starts
to see their lights as they climb downwards over the concrete boulders. They appear to stop somewhere between
checkpoint 16 and 17. One by one, their
lights go out. Sid, now thoroughly alert, climbs rapidly back to Checkpoint
16. It is now in darkness too. He waits for the party to return.
To Sid's amazement, this takes nearly two hours. It is only ten minutes caving from checkpoint
16 to the end of the cave. Just before
they arrive, the infra-red goes on once more. Sid Spanner feels that he is on the track of the saboteurs at last. Promotion, he feels certain, is in the bag.
-------- IV --------
It is a week later. Sid has laid his plans well. He has identified the cavers. They are from one of the few caving clubs
still in existence. It is called the
B.E.C. Once more they have arrived at
the cave and Sid has run down all the supervisor's ladders to Checkpoint 16 and
opened an emergency door into the cave. He is dressed in old fashioned caving clothes like the B.E.C.
party. He squats behind a large boulder
and waits.
Soon, the party approach the spot. They have the sort of voices one would
associate with their general appearance. They stop quite near the place where Sid is crouching.
"Any ruddy Weegees about,
Fred?"
"All clear, Pete."
"Right lads, drift over and
do, your stuff, Ron!"
The man called Ran comes almost to where Sid is hiding. Pulling some sort of instrument from his
pocket he applies it to a spot on the cave wall. Whatever he is doing takes a little
time. Presently he removes the
instrument and takes from his pocket a little tube through which he squints in
all directions. "O.K.", he calls,
"All I/R's are off!"
From his place of concealment, Sid reflects that he has just
witnessed an illegal act. These B.E.C.
cavers, he grimly notes, shall pay dearly for this. But more is to come. Before his astonished gaze, one of them tugs
at a section of cave wall which slowly swings outwards. One by one, the party disappear through the
resulting hole. The last man pulls the
wall section back into place after him.
Sid waits for a few moments before getting up and going over
to the wall to investigate. To his
surprise, it is a concealed emergency door, of the type fitted to all
-------- V --------
Sid's first reaction to his new surroundings is one of
professional chagrin. This new section
hardly looks like a product of British Caves Limited. He doubts whether it even conforms to the
British Standard. Sid examines the wall
closely. It is not like the rough
imitation stone of a cave section or like the smooth concrete of a supervisors
section. It does not even look as if it
has been manufactured at all. With a
sudden start, Sid realises that it has not been. He is in a natural cave. With a totally unaccustomed feeling of not
knowing what to expect, he moves cautiously onwards. He is now in a chamber of sorts, with rocks
strewn most untidily and unprofessionally all over the floor. Suddenly, he hears faint sounds of the party
returning and conceals himself once more behind a large boulder. As they
approach, he realises that they are talking and he catches a fragment of their
conversation as they pass by his hiding place on their way out.
It's no ruddy use, Fred. We might be able to keep up this ruddy caper
a bit longer, but sooner or later one of their ruddy engineers is bound to
catch up with us.
There must be something we can
do, Pete. Weve always managed to be one
up on the system se far.
Were getting blinded by ruddy
science this time. When we got Sam to
apply fore a job as a supervisor, he slipped up by talking about sump 2. Clean forgot British ruddy standard caves
have only one sump
The words become blurred as the party continues on its way
out. Sid waits until he hears the door
shut before switching on his light. His
course is now clear. He will beat them
to the entrance by using the supervisors ladders and get the Cave Manager to
detain them as they surface. The company
will, no doubt, bring charges against them. After a few formalities, he will be free to leave and get back to the
company headquarters - to receive congratulations and, no doubt, promotion.
Meanwhile, the cave remains utterly silent, save for the
quiet drip of water from somewhere nearby. Quite suddenly, Sid is seized by a desire to know what lies beyond the
chamber he is in. He cannot understand
what is happening to him. He is in the
grip of something which, although suppressed by years of training, has
nevertheless been lying dormant within him. It is the natural urge to explore. His promotional prospects suddenly forgotten, Sid starts off
purposefully in the opposite direction.
-------- VI --------
It is a few hours later. Sid has free-climbed two pitches; pushed his way through several
squeezes and wad through a deep canal. He turns the next corner and finds himself in a beautifully decorated
passage. The variety, quality and sheer
quality of the formations take his breath away. Compared to the few miserable-looking bits of formation contained in a
-------- VII --------
Once again, we are back in the board room of British Caves
Limited. As one might expect, Sir
Percival is in the middle of a lengthy speech.
"
.the excellent report by Mr. Spanner which I am sure
you have all read thoroughly. It was, of
course, a great disappointment to find that the new infra-red lights suffer
from technical disadvantages which I have no doubt you have grasped from the
paper."
There is a pause while Sir Percival drinks his tea and hands
the empty cup to his secretary muttering some thing about another round. The members of the board are all trying to
look as if they understand the subject of infra-red illumination - with varying
degrees of success.
" However," continues Sir Percival, "it is a
matter of great comfort to know that any form of sabotage has been ruled out
completely although, without the new lights it is difficult to see enough
advantages in the Mark III to be able to put a convincing case to the
Ministry."
The members of the board all assume expressions of
intelligent interest and concern. This
latter comes easily to them, as the promised increase in directors salaries
will not, presumably occur. Sir
Percival, however, has something up his sleeve.
"I must confess, gentlemen, that until a few hours ago,
the situation hardly looked promising. However, just before this meeting, I was handed a second report by Mr.
Spanner. It outlines an entirely new
scheme. Briefly, the entire supervisory
system is to be controlled from a central monitoring room by a single
operative. He will be able to view any
part of the cave by television cameras and to control all the hydraulic and
mechanical systems by suitable electronic controls. The saving in manpower is very significant. Even the registration clerk is to be replaced
by a computerised system which will record all visits to the cave and persons
below at any time, I will not bore you with the details, but I might add that
the suggestion has my full approval. The
only difficulty appears to be that we do not at present have an Electronics
Department. I suggest that we form one
without delay. We will, of course, need
a suitable man to lead this new department. I would welcome any names you might put forward." Guided by these broad hints, the board
unanimously appoint Sid to this new job.
-------- VIII --------
It is now several months later. It is, in fact, Christmas Eve. In a cosy Mendip Pub, the members of the
B.E.C. sit morosely drinking. For months
now, the only natural cave still open has been denied them by gangs of men
installing new electronic equipment in the artificial cave above it. It is certain in their minds that the door
they persuaded one of the original workmen to fit when the cave was being
constructed has now been discovered. So
low are their spirits that Fred Ferrett has just bought a round without
protesting that he bought the last one. A caveless future stretches grimly before then as they gaze unhappily
into their pots.
Out side the pub, a car crunches to a halt in the crisp
snow. It is a brand new Range
Rover. It belongs to Sid Spanner who has
just returned from the successful trials of the Mark III and has seen the contract
signed for the modification of over two hundred caves to the new standard. It is widely rumoured that he will be offered
a seat on the board of British Caves Limited.
As Sid gets out of the car, he looks thoughtful almost
worried. A trifle nervous. It is one thing, he muses as he walks towards
the front door, to force ones way to the top of a large company. It is quite another to attempt to join the
B.E.C. However, he is not without hope,
for there are aspects of the new improvements which - so far - are known only
to himself. There is the small box he is
carrying in his left hand coat pocket for instance. When this box is switched on down the cave,
it becomes impossible to activate the T.V. cameras in its vicinity. Thus, a party can move about the entire cave
unobserved. There is the other small box
in his right hand coat pocket, which operates the gear on the door leading to
the natural cave below. There is also
the fact that a new cave has been ordered for Mendip and that some privately
commissioned work has established the existence of a large and hitherto
unexplored cave below the site which
Even so, Sid thinks as he enters the pub, the B.E.C.
doubtless have their pride. They may
well consider that he is trying to buy his way in. Perhaps if he bought them enough beer?
-------- IX --------
It is much later that same night. The hour is just past midnight. Technically speaking, it is now Christmas
Day. At the Belfry, nothing stirs. The moonlight, filtering through the icy
windows, falls on the motionless figure of Pete Pushem as he lies stretched out
on the floor, his pint pot still in his lifeless hand. Nearby lies an ungainly heap consisting of
Ron, Fred, Sam and Sid. Slowly, this
heap stirs and the figure of Fred Ferrett detaches itself. He staggers outside.
The quiet of the night is suddenly broken by a
characteristic sound. It is Fred
honking. He staggers back, closes the
door, trips over Sid's feet and falls once more on to the top of the heap.
"Merry Christmas!" he mutters thickly as he sinks
into a deep stupor.
Club members holidays like club members, are never ordinary
affairs as this contribution from Janet Setterington shows.
It was going to be 'that sort' of holiday. It was obvious from the moment that Sago and
Sett said "There's this computer that we want to have a look at near
Armed with everything from pamphlets by Thom. (and if you
don't know who he is, you're lucky!) to toothbrushes the advance party set out
to make the crossing from
If you like globe artichokes, Roscoff is the place for you
in the springtime. We left the boat and
for over half an hour drove through fields - acres - masses of them, all ready
for picking. It was a sight to gladden
the heart and stomach of a true devotee. Leaving the gleaming, green globes, we continued south across
We drove on south, and suddenly, there it was - the
computer. The great, grey stones of
We found our house in the
The advance party was supposed to recce the area but what
actually happened was that Jan went down with the tummy bug, feeling decidedly
queer in a hypermarket and needed nursing. Still, she recovered enough to cook a couple of memorable noshes; at
least, they would have been if the wine had not set in. Then, the day before Sage was due, disaster
struck. Sett was overcome by the Revenge
of Montezuma and was forced to take to his bed, so it fell to Titch and Jan to
drive back to Roscoff for our friend.
Leaving dad to the mercies of Julian and
The return from Roscoff was not so eventful and we actually
stopped and did some sightseeing at the lovely old slate-covered market at Le
Faouet. On reaching Kerhostin we got
down to the serious business of the trip and had an enormous fish souffle,
washed down with an adequate supply of vin blanc.
Having decided that we loved our stomachs, it was with
difficulty that we set out to see the Grand Menhir, which lies at Locmariaquer
and is the centre of the complex. The
menhir, which is broken in five pieces, 64 feet long and when standing could be
seen for many miles around.
Then we set out on our tour of the alignments. They are spectacular - of that there can be
no doubt. Sett and Sago were like a
couple of small boys let loose in a toy shop. Measuring; calculating; sighting and arguing they kept us enthralled for
several hours. The consensus of opinion
was, in the end, that the whole thing was a lunar observatory as, indeed, the
books said. Numerous expeditions were
made to see the larger, more important outlying stones, but if you want to know
the significance of them you will have to talk to Sett - as maths and astronomy
are not the writer's strong points.
We contemplated the purpose of this vast structure beside a
lake in the golden afternoon sunshine with a delicious picnic laid out in front
of us. Golden hours indeed.
A grand tour round the Golfe du Morbihan was also on the
agenda and it was interesting to see, in some areas, the locals still recovering
salt from brine pans. The little piles
of white crystals look like mountains in miniature when the sun shines on
them. During this tour we went to look
at the ruins of a chateau at Suscinio. The relevant government department is in the throes of restoring this
fantastic old building, and we were impressed with the lengths to which they
were going. It is far from being
'pretty-pretty' as many of the buildings of the Loire, but it is a real, solid,
working castle complete with a moat full of water.
The areas in which we stayed is renowned for its seafood -
oysters in particular. One Sunday we set
out for some lunch. Actually, we were
supposed to be on the lookout for some crepes, but we were all hoping. We found our oysters and made pigs of ourselves;
then we showed what gluttons we were by downing some delectable crayfish - and
that was just the fish. The memory
lingers.
The crowning achievement as far as food went was Sago's
exhibition of how to eat mussels. Julian
and Vanessa opted out and went for omelette. Between four of us there were nine pounds of moules - cooked in a little
white wine and served with a sauce of white wine, tomatoes onions and
herbs. The shellfish filled a large
tureen, two large casseroles and a large meat dish. Each adult was equipped with a washing-up bowl
to take the debris.
The great eat-in began. Jan soon dropped out and moved on to the more mundane salad and
cheese. After a couple of pounds, Sett
called it a day and Titch soon followed - but Sago kept right on eating. Mussel after mussel found its way down his
throat. The procession was endless. In spite of pleas to his better nature; the
state of his digestion and the possible state of the loo at some later hour, he
kept going. It should be pointed out
that the fish were accompanied by large chunks of bread and were washed down
with copious draughts of wine. Few of us
can have been privileged to witness such a feat of Falstavian eating. Eventually, with a regretful look at the
almost empty dish, he stopped. Replete. Then, with beaming face
and jovial tongue, he helped clear the board and wash the dishes. And, do you know, he had not one twinge of
discomfort - the lucky
. What a man!
While in Camac we visited the local museum. It is almost exclusively devoted to
prehistoric exhibits and was founded by a Scot - J. Miln. We also had a look at the
We tried to view the interior of the St. Michel tumulus but
the guide didn't seem terribly anxious to take us round. However, since they had visited it on the
recce, Sett and Jan were able to assure the party that it was quite like other
tumuli dark. So everyone was
satisfied.
Inevitably all good things come to an end and we had to come
home. And that was a pantomime. You will have gathered that we were six in
number, plus vast quantities of luggage. How, do you ask, did we fit everything and everyone into a B.L.M.C.
1300? It wasn't easy, but we
managed. Nobody is going to pretend that
Titch, Jan, Julian and Vanessa were comfortable in the back - being covered
with old coats; cameras; compasses and all sorts of things that the 'boffins'
had thought that they might need. However,
they bore it nobly. The final indignity
came when an extra load of 18 litres of rough French plonk was hurled in on top
of them and they were not allowed so much as a sip.
At Roscoff, we found a right old picnic. The Dockers had just ended a dispute which
had held up many voyagers and the owner of the shipping line had that day to
throw his boat open to the locals. It
was rather a battle to get on board and a fight to get up the companionways
beset by Frenchmen oozing free booze. Still we made it.
On getting home we found that we hadn't had a working
holiday at all. Really, all that we had
accomplished had been an eating extravaganza. So we shall have to go again. That's the nicest thing about
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Across:
1. Tall brows as belay points?
(9)
5. Passage which provided more water to 4 down. (5)
7. One of twelve perhaps, made during a survey? (4)
8. Knot. (5)
9. Edges of pool in this tone. (4)
11. Collective description of other clubs in the Mendip scene. (4)
12. One of two dry alternatives to 13. (5)
13.
.and the other one. (3,3,3)
Down
1. Caves found on Mendip or in
Firth. (5,4)
2. Common to Eastwater, Nine Barrows, Stoke, etc. (4)
3.
4. Waste Mary underground? (9)
5. Individual entries on a list of gear, perhaps? (5).
6. Both caves and cavers get this on
occasion. (5)
10. Type of cave represented by an exclamation in the South-west. (4)
11. Short Mendip Templar? (4)
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The Belfry,
Chairman S.J. Collins
Minutes Sec G.
Members Chris Batstone, John Dukes, Chris Howell, Tim Large, Mike Wheadon, R. Marshall, Barry Wilton.
Honorary Secretary M.
WHEADON, 91 The Oval, Englishcoombe,
Honorary Treasurer B.
Caving Secretary TIM
LARGE,
Climbing
Secretary R. MARSHALL, 7 Fairacre
Close, Lockleaze,
Hut Warden C.
BATSTONE,
Belfry Engineer J.
DUKES,
Tacklemaster G.
WILTON-JONES, Ilenea,
B.B. Editor S.J.
COLLINS, Lavender Cottage, Bishops Sutton, Nr. Bristol. Tel : CHEW MAGNA 2915
Publications Editor C.
HOWELL,
B.B. Postal BRENDA
Spares T.
LARGE, Address already given
Membership Sec. Mrs. A.
DOOLEY, c/o The Belfry. TO WHOM ALL SUBS
SHOULD BE SENT.
Any contribution to the Belfry Bulletin, including those of officers of the club, are not necessarily the opinions of the editor or the committee of the Bristol Exploration Club, unless explicitly stated as being such.