This extract from a Climbers' Club Journal has been made available by kind permission of the Author and or Photographer and the Climbers' Club.

Transcription

1 This extract from a Climbers' Club Journal has been made available by kind permission of the Author and or Photographer and the Climbers' Club. Copyright remains with the author/photographer. It is provided in electronic form for your personal use and cannot be used for commercial profit without seeking permission from both the author/photographer and the Climbers' Club. Journal: Author: Photographer Bill Wintrip Chris Jackson Copyright 2008

2 THE CONNECTION BILL WINTRIP The chamber of horrors forms the connecting passage between Oxlow Cavern and Giants Hole a classic but serious caving trip in Derbyshire. The name conjured up some pretty gnarly impressions in my mind. I'd talked to a few people who had done it, this almost succeeded in putting me off. I'd even squirmed in at the Giants end, a chest squeezing,flatout crawl to thefirst duck it wouldn't take much more tofinally dash the thought of doing the trip out of my mind. I then blewft.i mentioned it to Burke, in an unguarded moment at work one day, feeling secure that he'd already done it, therefore once bitten, wouldn't want to return. "What a pillock I was. He said the stomach churning words, "Lets do it one evening." You know the feeling, like when you've said to your climbing mate that you fancy leading some desperate climb and the bastard agrees to hold your rope. I sat there frantically thinking of an excuse; then Foster pipes up that he'll give a hand rigging Oxlow. (This has to be rigged to complete the through trip.) Two of them grinning at me, waiting for the squirming excuse to come I couldn't think of one. "Supersafe" Wintrip was fast approaching decision time. I agreed to go! Oh God, I feft iu. Neil and I spent one cold March Tuesday evening rigging Oxlow, leaving the ropes in place for Phil and I the next evening. The next evening came no valid excuse with it, unfortunately. I'd spent the day trying to arrange an overnight stay on a job, somewhere, anywhere in the country, but no joy. Phil and I went down the ropes of the previous evening and grovelled along the Pilgrims Way to the start of the Connection. By the time I arrived all I could see was a pair of size 8 wellies thrashing in a tight gravelfilledconstriction. Eventually a channel was cleared in the gravel and a 'breathe-in, squeeze-through' was made into the Connection proper. Aflatout crawl followed to the 'ducks'. I was not impressed, Phil was not impressed, the water was to the roof We could not take the chance of holding our breath, as the section is approximately thirty feet long and very tight. We retreated, back, along the crawls and back out on the Oxlow ropes. At least I'd used the ropes. I blew it again at this point. I didn't have a spanner to derig the pitches which would have meant we wouldn't have had to come down again. I actually agreed to come again the following week and try from the Giants end! The next Wednesday arrived. This time we were equipped with wetsuit hoods, the last time the water seemed to freeze the head like a vice. Lyingflat out at the first 'Giants duck' we donned the hoods and Phil set off feet first. In the close confines of that tube, I could hear his mouth breathing against the roof, the only 86

3 87 sound in my part of the cave. Flat out waiting for my turn, my heart was pounding, ft would be easy to go out through Giants, not to have to do it if Phil fails, no problem, we'd tried. By the sound offt he was probably returning, we'd be out in diirty minutes. Obviously too much water. "I'm through". Jesus, for a moment ItiioughtPhil said he was through. "Come on Bill, its O.K." Oh God, he is through. Flat on my back in the water, helmet and lamp off and between my legs, with the sacks in front of me. Mouth against the ceiling, water rushing to the level of my ears, just my eyes, nose and moudi clear of the water. One hand still outstretched behind me, afraid to let go. Then disaster, my helmet and lamp sink. Darkness. Complete. Myfirstreaction is to pull with my outstretched arm. I immediately go under water, in the dark. I can't breathe, I'm under water. I come up into the air, in the dark, but still can't breathe, water has gone up my nose and into my lungs. I frantically try to turn onto my front but my hips are pinned by the confines of the tube. I struggle out further and manage to turn over. Coughing and spluttering, I catch my breath. Still darkness. I must get my lamp. SUding back into the water, feetfirst,i hit something, a glow, my lamp, a faint glow, enough to enable me to drag both the helmet and lamp out with my feet. Phil has no idea what has happened and has not heard from me. I hear him calling and answer back... This time I put the sacks on a tape behind me. Back to the same place, mouth against the ceiling, heart pounding. I let go with the outstretched hand and almost float through thefirstduck. The space beyond is enough to put the head upright, briefly. The next duck is with the head turned on its side, glasses off as there isn't the room for them. I'm through. The last duck, water to the ceiling,, but with Phil on the other side now able to see my wellies, take a breath and go through. Brilliant, what a buzz, can't understand what the fuss is about. We make our way out along familiar grovelling ground. A doubt, will the Oxlow ropes still be there? or will some thieving sod have nicked diem? You know what that means, a return through the ducks. Oh shit, they have to be there. Thankfully they were and the only problem was digging through the twofeet of snow piled up on the entrance lid. We emerged soaking wet and slid down to the cars where we cracked off our frozen wetsuits chuffed to our litde moon boots. Overlecrfleft: The President cm "Belle Vue Bastion" during the Helyg Reunion Meet. Overleaft ri^t: Bill Wintrip, ever the optimist, tries to go climbing in Water-cum-Jolly Photo: Chrisjackson

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