Joshitha Sivakumar in Kents Cavern getting some tops for the next UBSS Hut barbecue. Photo by Jess Brock.
Apologies for the late appearance of this issue, but one of your hardworking editorial team had run off to Rivendell to see the Elves (more on this in a later issue…)
Meanwhile back at home, the heatwave and the sun can’t stop our dedicated cavers from getting muddy and cold - underground where the temp never shifts. Another busy month has passed where we have seen UBSS members travelling back and forth from Mendips to Wales (sometimes in the same packed weekend) - crawling our way through, before finally ascending out of exam season.
We have been celebrating bank holidays, end of exams and summer soon to come through our annual traditions; digging for bones in Fishmonger’s Swallet, diving sumps, maintaining our beloved hut and prepping for summer expeditions! PS If anything is in blue and underlined, it’s a clickable link!
PPS You can find all previous newsletter back to 1919 on our website!
Meanwhile back at home, the heatwave and the sun can’t stop our dedicated cavers from getting muddy and cold - underground where the temp never shifts. Another busy month has passed where we have seen UBSS members travelling back and forth from Mendips to Wales (sometimes in the same packed weekend) - crawling our way through, before finally ascending out of exam season.
We have been celebrating bank holidays, end of exams and summer soon to come through our annual traditions; digging for bones in Fishmonger’s Swallet, diving sumps, maintaining our beloved hut and prepping for summer expeditions!
Grace and Linda
PPS You can find all previous newsletter back to 1919 on our website!
TRIP LOG
Left to right, Leila Nicholson, Emily Wormleigton, Billy Evans after coming out of Aggy. Photo by Tom Headington.
It's been another busy month for caving trips! If you're didn't make it to the trip log, don't worry, it's not too late! Just add it to our Trip Sec's online log so Dan doesn't have to chase you with a plastic dinosaur, or, even more terrifying, the UBSS plastic baby ...
06/05/26. Sam Brace, Ben Morgan, Mungo Palmer, Dan Rose. Rhino Rift, Mendip, to the bottom of pitch 3.
08/05/26. Joe Bidie, Sam Brace. Stoke Lane Slocker, Mendip, to the Throne Room.
10/05/26. Alex Elwood, Lewis Hope, Ben Morgan, Dan Rose. Ariel’s Cave (Blacknor Hole), Portland, round trip.
Emily Wormleighton in Ogof Draenen. Photo by Joshitha Sivakumar.
13/05/25. Willem Glass, Dan Rose, Joshitha Sivikumar, Emily Wormleighton. Ogof Draenen, South Wales, to ‘The Underworld’ and back.
17/05/26. Tom Headington, Grace Smith, Dylan Tooley. Reads Cavern, Mendip, entrance series bounce.
18/05/26. Joe Bidie, Sam Brace, Tom Headington. Swildon’s Hole, Mendip, to Sump 9 and Badlands.
18/05/26. Billy Evans, Willem Glass, Dan Rose. Daren Cilau, South Wales, Hard Rock Cafe bounce.
20/05/26. Fin Clayson, Lucy Chrysotomou, Tom Headington, Zaid Muna. Swildons Hole, Mendip, short round trip.
20/05/26. Tommy DeAth, Willem Glass, Tess Hopes, Marty Hebden, Noah Lewis. Croesor Rhosydd, North Wales, through trip from from Croesor Quarry main adit to Rhosydd main adit.
23-24/05/26. Joe Bidie, Sam Brace, Billy Evans, Ben Morgan, Dan Rose. Agen Allwedd, South Wales, digging at Donovan’s Grief.
24/05/26. Tommy DeAth, Willem Glass, Victor Tripp, Uliana Zybina. G.B Cave, Mendip, to the end of the dig in the ladder dig passage beyond Great Chamber.
25/05/26. Sam Brace, Tom Headington. Daren Cilau, South Wales, Blue Greenies bounce.
26/05/26. Billy Evans, Leila Nicholson, Emily Wormleighton. Agen Allwedd, South Wales, the grand circle (almost) both ways after being turned around at Deep Water.
Billy Evans and Emily Wormleighton enjoying a Welsh Sunset at Whitewalls. Photo by Tom Headington.
30/05/26. Falkland, Dan Rose, David Rose. Redhouse Lane Swallet, Gloucestershire, to the end and made a smoke connection with Symonds Yat Swallet.
30/05 - 31/05/26. Grace Smith, Mowgli Palmer, Mungo Palmer, Joshitha Shivakumar, Dylan Tooley. Camping at Hard Rock Café, Daren.
Left to right, Leila Nicholson, Emily Wormleigton, Billy Evans after coming out of Aggy. Photo by Tom Headington.
It's been another busy month for caving trips! If you're didn't make it to the trip log, don't worry, it's not too late! Just add it to our Trip Sec's online log so Dan doesn't have to chase you with a plastic dinosaur, or, even more terrifying, the UBSS plastic baby ...
06/05/26. Sam Brace, Ben Morgan, Mungo Palmer, Dan Rose. Rhino Rift, Mendip, to the bottom of pitch 3.
08/05/26. Joe Bidie, Sam Brace. Stoke Lane Slocker, Mendip, to the Throne Room.
10/05/26. Alex Elwood, Lewis Hope, Ben Morgan, Dan Rose. Ariel’s Cave (Blacknor Hole), Portland, round trip.
Emily Wormleighton in Ogof Draenen. Photo by Joshitha Sivakumar.
13/05/25. Willem Glass, Dan Rose, Joshitha Sivikumar, Emily Wormleighton. Ogof Draenen, South Wales, to ‘The Underworld’ and back.
17/05/26. Tom Headington, Grace Smith, Dylan Tooley. Reads Cavern, Mendip, entrance series bounce.
18/05/26. Joe Bidie, Sam Brace, Tom Headington. Swildon’s Hole, Mendip, to Sump 9 and Badlands.
18/05/26. Billy Evans, Willem Glass, Dan Rose. Daren Cilau, South Wales, Hard Rock Cafe bounce.
20/05/26. Fin Clayson, Lucy Chrysotomou, Tom Headington, Zaid Muna. Swildons Hole, Mendip, short round trip.
20/05/26. Tommy DeAth, Willem Glass, Tess Hopes, Marty Hebden, Noah Lewis. Croesor Rhosydd, North Wales, through trip from from Croesor Quarry main adit to Rhosydd main adit.
23-24/05/26. Joe Bidie, Sam Brace, Billy Evans, Ben Morgan, Dan Rose. Agen Allwedd, South Wales, digging at Donovan’s Grief.
24/05/26. Tommy DeAth, Willem Glass, Victor Tripp, Uliana Zybina. G.B Cave, Mendip, to the end of the dig in the ladder dig passage beyond Great Chamber.
25/05/26. Sam Brace, Tom Headington. Daren Cilau, South Wales, Blue Greenies bounce.
26/05/26. Billy Evans, Leila Nicholson, Emily Wormleighton. Agen Allwedd, South Wales, the grand circle (almost) both ways after being turned around at Deep Water.
Billy Evans and Emily Wormleighton enjoying a Welsh Sunset at Whitewalls. Photo by Tom Headington.
30/05/26. Falkland, Dan Rose, David Rose. Redhouse Lane Swallet, Gloucestershire, to the end and made a smoke connection with Symonds Yat Swallet.
30/05 - 31/05/26. Grace Smith, Mowgli Palmer, Mungo Palmer, Joshitha Shivakumar, Dylan Tooley. Camping at Hard Rock Café, Daren.
Compiled by Sam Brace and Dan Rose
IN THE NEWS
59,000-year-old tooth offers a rare glimpse into how Neanderthals handled a medical problem. If you're squeamish about teeth, this might not be one for you!
A recent discovery under Australia's Nullabor Plain has stunned scientists. There's a UBSS connection here as member Dick Marsh's daughter is one of the bug people involved with this project. But if you're an arachnaphobe, this definitely isn't one for you!
UBSS member George Nash has hit the papers with his work on ancient pigments on the walls at Bacon Hole on the Gower Peninsula. You can also read the full paper here.
59,000-year-old tooth offers a rare glimpse into how Neanderthals handled a medical problem. If you're squeamish about teeth, this might not be one for you!
A recent discovery under Australia's Nullabor Plain has stunned scientists. There's a UBSS connection here as member Dick Marsh's daughter is one of the bug people involved with this project. But if you're an arachnaphobe, this definitely isn't one for you!
UBSS member George Nash has hit the papers with his work on ancient pigments on the walls at Bacon Hole on the Gower Peninsula. You can also read the full paper here.
ANNUAL MAKEOVER DAY
Cleaning, caving and singing. What's not to like? Grace Smith recalls the latest weekend at the Hut.
This year’s 'hut saves the day' aka the hut maintance weekend was fantastic as always. Probably one of my most favourite weekends all year round, with booze, caving anthems, good food and a whole lot of cleaning.
The weekend started with a bang, with music and dance, celebrating our beloved hut (and my birthday) as we welcomed the warmth of the heatwave. The next day, very hungover, I took a jolly quick and classic trip down Goatchurch with some new climber-turned-cavers before beginning the maintenance.
Left: A Hard Day's Night. Right: Ooops, where did we put the wooden spoons?
Over the next two days the hut was thoroughly cleaned and given some well needed TLC (including a new and improved rope swing).
A huge thanks to everyone who came, our hut is looking very sexy, once again.
Cleaning, caving and singing. What's not to like? Grace Smith recalls the latest weekend at the Hut.
This year’s 'hut saves the day' aka the hut maintance weekend was fantastic as always. Probably one of my most favourite weekends all year round, with booze, caving anthems, good food and a whole lot of cleaning.
The weekend started with a bang, with music and dance, celebrating our beloved hut (and my birthday) as we welcomed the warmth of the heatwave. The next day, very hungover, I took a jolly quick and classic trip down Goatchurch with some new climber-turned-cavers before beginning the maintenance.
Left: A Hard Day's Night. Right: Ooops, where did we put the wooden spoons?
Over the next two days the hut was thoroughly cleaned and given some well needed TLC (including a new and improved rope swing).
A huge thanks to everyone who came, our hut is looking very sexy, once again.
Grace Smith
THE GREAT LLANGATTOCK GETAWAY
Left to right, Billy Evans, Emily Wormleighton and Leila Nicholson after their epic Aggy trip. Photo by Tom Headington.
A tale of positively Shakespearian proportions told in three Acts by Sam Brace, Tom Headington and Emily Wormleighton, with plenty of highs, lows and laughter.
Act I: Digging at Donovan’s
Another month, another dig weekend. In the first act of the Great Llangattock Getaway, Sam Brace describes his first experience of digging…
Whitewalls, 7am Saturday morning. As the sun streamed through the window of the bunk room, we were awoken by bird (and sheep) song floating across the Welsh valleys. I accompanied Ben Morgan, Dan Rose and Billy Evans downstairs to finish packing for the dig, and after a hearty breakfast of pancakes (courtesy of chef Morgan) we headed off in the direction of Aggy.
A hearty pre-dig breakfast. Photo by Sam Brace.
Upon reaching the main passageway, disaster struck: the clips on one of my dry bags had broken! Thankfully, we were able to redistribute the load, with many of us stuffing Semtex balls of unknown contents down our oversuit in an attempt to protect them from the Southern Streamway.
Luckily this proved successful, as after an arduous hour of body soaking, tackle sack snagging caving we reached the dry haven of the Gothic Extensions. From there it was a hop, skip and a sandy crawl to the camp where we could drop our camping gear and head off to the dig face.
Everyone was in high spirits again by the time we got digging (not least Billy, to whom Christmas had clearly come early). The periodic shouts of ‘up!’ and ‘down!’ followed by the hauling of spoil from the dig face to Sick Parrot Chamber were punctuated with jokes, anecdotes and the construction of elaborate mud structures (anybody doing the through trip will know they’re out of Daren when they come across Billy’s zoo, Joe’s compound and the remnants of my archways which kept getting destroyed by the tray).
The diggers on a break. Top row left to right: John Stephens (CSS), Billy Evans (UBSS) (front), Joe Bidie (UBSS) (back), Dan Rose (UBSS) (front), Sam Brace (UBSS) (back), Ben Morgan (UBSS), Sam Coleman, (Mushroom) Dave Kinzett (CSS) (front). Bottom row Paul Stacy (club), unknown name (CSS), Alex Stacy (club), Ben Sumpter (CUA). Photo by Ben Sumpter .
After returning down Priory Road some hours later, we enjoyed the delights of the Rock Hard camp, sharing in the luxuries cheese, port and (of course) a hearty amount of grog. Bed wasn’t far away however, and I was soon dozing off with Joe in the ‘crisp packet’, a makeshift foil tent across the chamber from the main sleeping area (named for its infamous persistent crinkling during the night).
By 9am the next morning we were awoken by the sound of Alex Stacy's return, having left the dig the previous day to charge the drill batteries. The madman had decided to subject himself to the Southern Streamway two extra times, all in the name of the sure-to-be glorious hole!
As we ate our porridge and packed up our camping gear, the diggers set off for another day at the grindstone, and having convinced Alex to stay another night instead of leaving that afternoon, we set off towards the sunny surface to change his call-out.
After emerging into the gorgeous Welsh sunshine, we were greeted by the arrival of Tom Headington, Leila Nicholson and Emily Wormleighton, who had driven up from the UBSS hut maintenance weekend. After enjoying a beer in the sun with them, Ben, Dan Joe and I made for a sunny pub garden, where a well deserved meal was to be enjoyed.
Act II: Any Colour You Like
Tom left, Sam right, holding a plate of cheese after emerging from Daren. Photo by Leila Nicholson.
Tom Headington describes a trip to Daren Cilau's famous ‘Blue Greenies’…
The prelude to the trip, for me at least, started with a beautiful sunrise in the Mendips with an excellent cloud inversion. In the morning, after a beautiful sleep in a hammock outside the UBSS hut, Emily, Leila and I made our way over to Wales, remarking about how we felt like we were on holiday, basking in the bank holiday heatwave.
As we arrived at Whitewalls, we met Sam, Billy, Joe, Ben and Dan, who had recently emerged from the Aggy digging camp down Priory Road, inching ever closer to Daren. It was a beautiful evening on the Llangattock escarpment, and we all thoroughly enjoyed the evening.
In the morning, Sam and I faffed around a bit, but eventually made our way to the entrance. It was a very hot day, so I put my oversuit on just by the entrance, enjoying the cool breeze coming out of the cave, before we entered the arduous 517m crawl.
A slow hour later we made it out, and an uneventful journey took us to the start of the 20m ladder. I made it up the ladder, then I tried to retrieve the belay krab from Sam using the rope, and somehow all the rope ended up on the middle ledge. After a while toiling with the rope I eventually managed to drag Sam up the ladder, and we continued onwards, leaving our cows tails behind after Higher Things.
The journey on was thankfully smooth, down White Passage into the awe-inspiring Time Machine, then down into Bonsai Streamway (in which we somehow managed to miss the Bonsai Tree both on the way in and out), then we stopped for a much-needed drink near the Daren Cilau services sign. Hard Rock Café was not much further on, where, after a quick bite, we dumped our sandwiches.
This part of the trip was all familiar to me, as I had been to Hard Rock once before, but Sam was experiencing Daren Cilau for the first time. However, the next section was new for the both of us, so navigation slowed us down a bit.
Starting in the sandy Ovaltinees (reminiscent of our previous trip to Iles Inlet in Aggy) we crawled through the sand digs before heading down Rock Steady Cruise. This was fairly easy going and, trying our best not to end up in some chossy, abandoned dig, we soon reached Miami Vice (which was nothing compared to the Sump 6 bypass in Swildons which we’d done the week before).
After that we reached the aptly named Acupuncture Passage, with some nice sea urchin-esque crystal formations passing us by as we crawled along the painful stony floor. Luckily this was only 150m long, and we soon dropped down The Micron into Ankle Grinder Bypass. We were tempted by the “siren crawl” of Borrowed Boots Streamway, but instead made it up the correct way towards the Restaurant at the End of the Universe camp. Thankfully, it wasn’t as bad as the name made it out to be (although with a tackle sack and higher water maybe not). The duck at the end was thankfully quite low, so we managed to keep our torsos dry, and soon found ourselves in the desolate camp.
After getting my Easts and Wests mixed up, the Blue Greenies were only a short climb away from the camp. The formations consist of a small chamber lined with many intricate helictites, stalactites and stalagmites, with a beautiful blue-green glow (hence the name). The chemist in me wants to say this comes from trace amounts of copper, but I’m sure someone knows the true reason for their stunning colour.
We stayed here for around 10 minutes before starting again on the over 5-hour, 4-mile, trip back to our freedom. With the navigation issues behind us, the trip down Ankle Grinder, up The Micron and down Acupuncture Passage was somewhat pleasant (as can be at least), and we soon found ourselves back at Hard Rock, dripping with sweat.
We didn’t stay long at Hard Rock, and we made it back to the Water Fountain where we dug into our hearty baguettes. Now the long slog back to the entrance awaited us. It was easy going till the ladder, though we started to feel it in our legs. After one wrong turn down a 25m crawl into the choke (which really pissed me off in the moment), Sam started the ladder descent, where the rope caused us problems again. This time it got caught on a rock around the ledge, so Sam had to climb back up the ladder to free it once again.
The last two hours from the ladder felt the most arduous, as all the interesting stuff was behind us, yet we continued on, one step closer to the exit at a time. At Big Chamber Nowhere Near the Entrance we realised we would make it out before the sunset, which motivated us onwards.
Through the entrance crawl our spirits were not deterred, as we sang Bohemian Rhapsody, and continued our discussion of, “What politicians do you think could do the entrance crawl?” (I’d love to hear your answers!), we soon emerged to the evening light across the Welsh countryside, exactly 11 hours after we entered the cave.
Another glorious Welsh sunset. Left to right: Tom Headington, Joshitha Sivakumar, Leila Nicholson. Photo by Toby Hocking.
It was overall a very successful trip, with Sam and I in good spirits afterwards. In the evening we listened to Dark Side of the Moon, while looking at the stars and reminiscing on our mega day, before I settled down to my hammock again, under the stars.
Act III: It all ends in tragedy
Emily practising for Aggy.
Emily Wormleighton takes up the tale with the attempt on the Aggy Grand Circle …
Although the meat of this write up is the attempt (although I have heard some call it the ultimate, unmatched and heroic surpassing of) the Grand Circle in Agen Allwedd, the contextual two veg are well worth mentioning.
Two veg ... Beginning from a hungover sunny Sunday at the UBSS hut after the GUPUBSS (Glasgow x Bristol obviously) weekend, Leila Nicholson, Tom Headington and I followed the golden rays of sunshine to Llangattock to meet some other UBSS members after their overnight digging in Aggy before they headed off.
The original purpose of this trip was for Leila, Tom, Sam Brace and I to bounce the Blue Greenies in Daren Cilau on the Monday. Following this, I was going to stay another couple of nights with Billy Evans, who also stayed after the dig, for a nice romantic holiday in the sunshine at Whitewalls, along with some long overdue caving we had planned. However, with a sprained ankle (see picture - no broken bones and thank you to Graham for the lift to A&E…) and Leila feeling under the weather, only Tom and Sam went into Daren the next morning. Unfortunately, Leila, Billy and I were then left with no choice but to spend our Monday at an oasis-like swimming spot in Crickhowell, although only after I had spent a couple of hours standing on the hillside next to the hut, desperate for signal so I could apply for my exchange year three days before the deadline…
A large feature of my day was also spent in fear of the terror that is Henrietta the Hen. Not a moment went by where she left me in peace sat outside the hut and I will never forget that pre-peck look in her beady eye. We decided the three of us would have our caving the following day; a long-delayed trip that me and Billy had failed to commit to many times.
The meat ... On the Tuesday morning we set off to complete the Grand Circle in Aggie, leaving Tom to enjoy his achy muscles and well-earned rest in the thirty degree sun. A boiling hot walk made the cool refrigerated draught of the cave incredibly enticing. The entrance series was progressed at a good rate, although slower than we would’ve normally liked due to my precaution with my ankle.
Main Passage was stomped down and we bolted down Southern Streamway with a nice swift stop to enjoy the small trickle of water that remained of the 2nd inlet in the dry weather. Before we knew it we had reached the junction to Priory Road where Billy made a speedy 20 minute detour to get me some painkillers from the ‘Rock Hard Café’ camp. Onwards things got slowwwww as we met the greasy, slimy, slippery, disgusting footing of Lower Main Stream Passage. Ankle precaution measures reached a maximum, excruciatingly stretching out time. Slower and slower we finally escaped to Biza Passage. Although ‘escape’ is a bit of a strong word to describe our Biza Passage experience, where time actually seemed to dilate even more despite our increased speed here not exactly reaching the speed of light. My ankle seemed to be magically better, but unbeknownst to us multiple, arduous route-finding delays were looming ever closer.
We obediently followed the description through Biza Passage, where getting lost and turning around is apparently not uncommon: ‘take the route left or upwards’. Unfortunately, we did not get lost and we did not turn around. We should have. According to the description ‘if you see a yellow wire on the floor, you know you’re in the right place’. Interest and hope had dwindled as we passed the halfway point of our journey, until Billy eagerly spotted the yellow wire, bringing a small flicker of joy to a tired Leila and I. However, the yellow wire went to the right, not the left. But the end of Biza passage leads to a constriction before a boulder choke, so what if the wire is for that (not mentioned in the description if the wire was for the choke). But it told us to always go left…
To the left was a constriction beyond which the way on was unclear. Billy decided to devotedly comply with the description and passed through the left passage’s constriction to investigate. Lying down in a small tube with Leila at the back, I had a private audience of a long, heaving and groaning spectacle which made me really reevaluate the type of the man I had chosen to be with. Once through he soon declared it a ‘shithole’. Leila was then sent to scurry into right hand passage where she quickly discovered a constriction before a boulder choke that the yellow wire did in fact lead the way through. After I had stayed to watch Billy return with even more difficulty, at least 30 minutes had slipped away from us.
Back on track. Time to make up our progress once the Fourth Choke plopped us out into Mainstream Passage. Not quite, for foreshadowing the morning after the trip me and Billy had to actually turn off Ben Sumpter’s YouTube video of the Grand Circle when he reached Mainstream because of the cold, evil and perilous feelings that returned to us. Beginning this section, we shared some minor concerned whisperings about how long we were taking with route finding, despite our generally speedy progress throughout the rest of the cave but being over the halfway point there was nothing for us to do but continue.
Over the obvious boulder pile... Bosh. Immediately approached Third Choke. Bosh. Faithful as always to the CSS description we did as we were told, keeping low under the choke in the streamway, searching for obvious well-worn climb upwards through the boulders to emerge on top of the pile on the other side. But of course, the route description strikes back (again). My hate for this description became thoroughly instilled in my soul as we followed every equally well-worn, equally obvious climb to no avail.
For another 30 minutes (probably more but it’s disheartening to consider) we walked back to the entrance to the choke, seeking a new perspective on the matter and inevitably of our life choices, and waded back into the waist-high water below at least five times. One approach was an ill-advised climb over the top of the loose rocks, at which point me and Leila were quarantined to a space away from the boulders until at last Billy found our way on. After the trip Leila admitted to me that ‘she thought we were going to die’ during this ordeal, which is funny if you are familiar with Leila’s stoic attitude which was firmly and calmly unwavering throughout the trip. We were in fact completely fine I think she was just a bit fed up. Now we were back on track again. Surely it’s fine from now, there’s well under halfway left, southern streamway is long behind us. In good spirits, but with time concerns having slightly increased again we broke back into the streamway, hoping for easy progress.
This is where our downfall inched closer. Before this trip, we knew there was a bit of swimming although we were told that ‘Deep Water’ would likely be only chest height, especially in the dry weather. The description only identifies The Narrows as actually having out of depth sections, which it says can be carefully traversed. Carefully traversing, we again made slow progress in The Narrows since none of us fancied a dip. Pointless really since I was very unsuccessful and was dunked in over my head multiple times. Not to worry, a few short swims in the icy-cold, black void famously never hurt anyone… At last, we reached a sandy bank to walk on. Leaving what we thought was the last of the out of depth waters behind, this time we were actually really definitely hoping to make swift progress, simply wading one final stretch of the circle. Once we turned the corner, following the upstream direction, we were standing chest-height in water that filled a low and wide tunnel, turning another corner in the distance. The water was so dark that it seemed to absorb the reflection of our lights, creating the impression of a black, freezing abyss.
There were no features around, no walls to hold, and no end in sight. Our moods suddenly shifted, very sombre, as we faced this desolate void. We tentatively inched forward, still expecting a simple wading experience. But very rapidly and unexpectedly it became deeper and deeper, and we began to doubt our way on. All we could do was decide to convince Leila to swim a couple of metres and report back. A couple metres in she turned back to us, reaching no end. This is definitely the way. It was meant to be chest-height, right? It would say in the description if we had to properly swim something like this. But the weather is so dry it’s not like it can be any higher than usual….
This period of another approximately 30 minutes was spent mentally and physically moving back and forth, keeping warm, plunging into the cold again, is this definitely the way…? Besides Billy’s unmatched terror of cows, the only other time I have seen him uneasy or slightly scared is swimming out of his depth in a cave. Trying out the swim to investigate was therefore not an option. There was no way to help each other if things went wrong, nothing to hold on to, and not even any knowledge of when it or even if it was going to end since we had only assumed this to be the only way on. These thoughts were shared through a sort of telepathy we had developed between us in the hours of silent stoicism since the entrance series.
Billy broke the news that we had to return the way we came. I was in denial. Surely we can’t go and do all of that again. Southern Streamway wasn’t bad but I didn’t fancy it again. We were so much closer to the other side than if we turned all the way back. But he was unfortunately right, there was no way on, time was passing and we needed to get moving soon before the cold penetrated us any more. Although none of us felt unwell, panicked or upset, I was sincerely and extremely in a bad mood back through The Narrows. Each traverse seemed to have become much harder. My tiredness and negative attitude doubled both the amount I managed to fall in and how much it annoyed me when I did. I imagine Leila was feeling similarly as every now and then we shared a silent look of acknowledgement.
Sometimes I just gave up getting out and tried swimming through but the fact that I hated everything really sort of ruined the ‘calming cold water swim’ vibe. The minor sense of time and warmth urgency along with attempting tricky traversing and involuntarily dunking myself into the icy void left us with a chilling sense of peril associated with what we saw of Main Stream Passage. The remainder of the trip back highlighted the effect our route-finding (or, in my opinion, the stupid description, sorry CSS) had had on the trip. Biza Passage warmed us up and was actually really short; we sped through it in well under half the time.
Lower Main Stream was still slow and slippery but I had adopted a much more laissez-faire attitude to ankle risks at this stage. Reaching the end of this was home turf. Another short rapid crawl through Sandy Passage and before we knew it we were bombing it down Southern Streamway again. Back to the 2nd inlet trickle, pushing onwards in brutal yet satisfying silence. Main Passage was lovely but soon the hardy attitude of Southern Streamway wore off, and by the time we reached the entrance series I had no intention of trying any more. I don’t think I have ever seen anybody cave as slowly as I did, not even those who the mind may wander to...
At many points I apologised to Leila who was stuck behind me; ‘I know I’m going ridiculously slowly’, to which I got a simple and exhausted, ‘It’s fine’. After the trip she told me she was actually lagging behind me when I said that. With Billy speeding ahead we flailed and flopped in unison over the rocks in empty silence. Eventually the end was of course reached, out of which a perfect orange and pink sunset across the valley was waiting for us.
Left to right, Billy Evans, Emily Wormleighton and Leila Nicholson after their epic Aggy trip. Photo by Tom Headington.
A tale of positively Shakespearian proportions told in three Acts by Sam Brace, Tom Headington and Emily Wormleighton, with plenty of highs, lows and laughter.
Act I: Digging at Donovan’s
Another month, another dig weekend. In the first act of the Great Llangattock Getaway, Sam Brace describes his first experience of digging…
Whitewalls, 7am Saturday morning. As the sun streamed through the window of the bunk room, we were awoken by bird (and sheep) song floating across the Welsh valleys. I accompanied Ben Morgan, Dan Rose and Billy Evans downstairs to finish packing for the dig, and after a hearty breakfast of pancakes (courtesy of chef Morgan) we headed off in the direction of Aggy.
A hearty pre-dig breakfast. Photo by Sam Brace.Upon reaching the main passageway, disaster struck: the clips on one of my dry bags had broken! Thankfully, we were able to redistribute the load, with many of us stuffing Semtex balls of unknown contents down our oversuit in an attempt to protect them from the Southern Streamway.
Luckily this proved successful, as after an arduous hour of body soaking, tackle sack snagging caving we reached the dry haven of the Gothic Extensions. From there it was a hop, skip and a sandy crawl to the camp where we could drop our camping gear and head off to the dig face.
Everyone was in high spirits again by the time we got digging (not least Billy, to whom Christmas had clearly come early). The periodic shouts of ‘up!’ and ‘down!’ followed by the hauling of spoil from the dig face to Sick Parrot Chamber were punctuated with jokes, anecdotes and the construction of elaborate mud structures (anybody doing the through trip will know they’re out of Daren when they come across Billy’s zoo, Joe’s compound and the remnants of my archways which kept getting destroyed by the tray).
The diggers on a break. Top row left to right: John Stephens (CSS), Billy Evans (UBSS) (front), Joe Bidie (UBSS) (back), Dan Rose (UBSS) (front), Sam Brace (UBSS) (back), Ben Morgan (UBSS), Sam Coleman, (Mushroom) Dave Kinzett (CSS) (front). Bottom row Paul Stacy (club), unknown name (CSS), Alex Stacy (club), Ben Sumpter (CUA). Photo by Ben Sumpter .
After returning down Priory Road some hours later, we enjoyed the delights of the Rock Hard camp, sharing in the luxuries cheese, port and (of course) a hearty amount of grog. Bed wasn’t far away however, and I was soon dozing off with Joe in the ‘crisp packet’, a makeshift foil tent across the chamber from the main sleeping area (named for its infamous persistent crinkling during the night).
By 9am the next morning we were awoken by the sound of Alex Stacy's return, having left the dig the previous day to charge the drill batteries. The madman had decided to subject himself to the Southern Streamway two extra times, all in the name of the sure-to-be glorious hole!
As we ate our porridge and packed up our camping gear, the diggers set off for another day at the grindstone, and having convinced Alex to stay another night instead of leaving that afternoon, we set off towards the sunny surface to change his call-out.
After emerging into the gorgeous Welsh sunshine, we were greeted by the arrival of Tom Headington, Leila Nicholson and Emily Wormleighton, who had driven up from the UBSS hut maintenance weekend. After enjoying a beer in the sun with them, Ben, Dan Joe and I made for a sunny pub garden, where a well deserved meal was to be enjoyed.
Sam Brace
Act II: Any Colour You Like
Tom left, Sam right, holding a plate of cheese after emerging from Daren. Photo by Leila Nicholson. Tom Headington describes a trip to Daren Cilau's famous ‘Blue Greenies’…
The prelude to the trip, for me at least, started with a beautiful sunrise in the Mendips with an excellent cloud inversion. In the morning, after a beautiful sleep in a hammock outside the UBSS hut, Emily, Leila and I made our way over to Wales, remarking about how we felt like we were on holiday, basking in the bank holiday heatwave.
As we arrived at Whitewalls, we met Sam, Billy, Joe, Ben and Dan, who had recently emerged from the Aggy digging camp down Priory Road, inching ever closer to Daren. It was a beautiful evening on the Llangattock escarpment, and we all thoroughly enjoyed the evening.
In the morning, Sam and I faffed around a bit, but eventually made our way to the entrance. It was a very hot day, so I put my oversuit on just by the entrance, enjoying the cool breeze coming out of the cave, before we entered the arduous 517m crawl.
A slow hour later we made it out, and an uneventful journey took us to the start of the 20m ladder. I made it up the ladder, then I tried to retrieve the belay krab from Sam using the rope, and somehow all the rope ended up on the middle ledge. After a while toiling with the rope I eventually managed to drag Sam up the ladder, and we continued onwards, leaving our cows tails behind after Higher Things.
The journey on was thankfully smooth, down White Passage into the awe-inspiring Time Machine, then down into Bonsai Streamway (in which we somehow managed to miss the Bonsai Tree both on the way in and out), then we stopped for a much-needed drink near the Daren Cilau services sign. Hard Rock Café was not much further on, where, after a quick bite, we dumped our sandwiches.
This part of the trip was all familiar to me, as I had been to Hard Rock once before, but Sam was experiencing Daren Cilau for the first time. However, the next section was new for the both of us, so navigation slowed us down a bit.
Starting in the sandy Ovaltinees (reminiscent of our previous trip to Iles Inlet in Aggy) we crawled through the sand digs before heading down Rock Steady Cruise. This was fairly easy going and, trying our best not to end up in some chossy, abandoned dig, we soon reached Miami Vice (which was nothing compared to the Sump 6 bypass in Swildons which we’d done the week before).
After that we reached the aptly named Acupuncture Passage, with some nice sea urchin-esque crystal formations passing us by as we crawled along the painful stony floor. Luckily this was only 150m long, and we soon dropped down The Micron into Ankle Grinder Bypass. We were tempted by the “siren crawl” of Borrowed Boots Streamway, but instead made it up the correct way towards the Restaurant at the End of the Universe camp. Thankfully, it wasn’t as bad as the name made it out to be (although with a tackle sack and higher water maybe not). The duck at the end was thankfully quite low, so we managed to keep our torsos dry, and soon found ourselves in the desolate camp.
After getting my Easts and Wests mixed up, the Blue Greenies were only a short climb away from the camp. The formations consist of a small chamber lined with many intricate helictites, stalactites and stalagmites, with a beautiful blue-green glow (hence the name). The chemist in me wants to say this comes from trace amounts of copper, but I’m sure someone knows the true reason for their stunning colour.
We stayed here for around 10 minutes before starting again on the over 5-hour, 4-mile, trip back to our freedom. With the navigation issues behind us, the trip down Ankle Grinder, up The Micron and down Acupuncture Passage was somewhat pleasant (as can be at least), and we soon found ourselves back at Hard Rock, dripping with sweat.
We didn’t stay long at Hard Rock, and we made it back to the Water Fountain where we dug into our hearty baguettes. Now the long slog back to the entrance awaited us. It was easy going till the ladder, though we started to feel it in our legs. After one wrong turn down a 25m crawl into the choke (which really pissed me off in the moment), Sam started the ladder descent, where the rope caused us problems again. This time it got caught on a rock around the ledge, so Sam had to climb back up the ladder to free it once again.
The last two hours from the ladder felt the most arduous, as all the interesting stuff was behind us, yet we continued on, one step closer to the exit at a time. At Big Chamber Nowhere Near the Entrance we realised we would make it out before the sunset, which motivated us onwards.
Through the entrance crawl our spirits were not deterred, as we sang Bohemian Rhapsody, and continued our discussion of, “What politicians do you think could do the entrance crawl?” (I’d love to hear your answers!), we soon emerged to the evening light across the Welsh countryside, exactly 11 hours after we entered the cave.
Another glorious Welsh sunset. Left to right: Tom Headington, Joshitha Sivakumar, Leila Nicholson. Photo by Toby Hocking.
It was overall a very successful trip, with Sam and I in good spirits afterwards. In the evening we listened to Dark Side of the Moon, while looking at the stars and reminiscing on our mega day, before I settled down to my hammock again, under the stars.
Tom Headington
Act III: It all ends in tragedy
Emily practising for Aggy.
Emily Wormleighton takes up the tale with the attempt on the Aggy Grand Circle …
Although the meat of this write up is the attempt (although I have heard some call it the ultimate, unmatched and heroic surpassing of) the Grand Circle in Agen Allwedd, the contextual two veg are well worth mentioning.
Two veg ... Beginning from a hungover sunny Sunday at the UBSS hut after the GUPUBSS (Glasgow x Bristol obviously) weekend, Leila Nicholson, Tom Headington and I followed the golden rays of sunshine to Llangattock to meet some other UBSS members after their overnight digging in Aggy before they headed off.
The original purpose of this trip was for Leila, Tom, Sam Brace and I to bounce the Blue Greenies in Daren Cilau on the Monday. Following this, I was going to stay another couple of nights with Billy Evans, who also stayed after the dig, for a nice romantic holiday in the sunshine at Whitewalls, along with some long overdue caving we had planned. However, with a sprained ankle (see picture - no broken bones and thank you to Graham for the lift to A&E…) and Leila feeling under the weather, only Tom and Sam went into Daren the next morning. Unfortunately, Leila, Billy and I were then left with no choice but to spend our Monday at an oasis-like swimming spot in Crickhowell, although only after I had spent a couple of hours standing on the hillside next to the hut, desperate for signal so I could apply for my exchange year three days before the deadline…
A large feature of my day was also spent in fear of the terror that is Henrietta the Hen. Not a moment went by where she left me in peace sat outside the hut and I will never forget that pre-peck look in her beady eye. We decided the three of us would have our caving the following day; a long-delayed trip that me and Billy had failed to commit to many times.
The meat ... On the Tuesday morning we set off to complete the Grand Circle in Aggie, leaving Tom to enjoy his achy muscles and well-earned rest in the thirty degree sun. A boiling hot walk made the cool refrigerated draught of the cave incredibly enticing. The entrance series was progressed at a good rate, although slower than we would’ve normally liked due to my precaution with my ankle.
Main Passage was stomped down and we bolted down Southern Streamway with a nice swift stop to enjoy the small trickle of water that remained of the 2nd inlet in the dry weather. Before we knew it we had reached the junction to Priory Road where Billy made a speedy 20 minute detour to get me some painkillers from the ‘Rock Hard Café’ camp. Onwards things got slowwwww as we met the greasy, slimy, slippery, disgusting footing of Lower Main Stream Passage. Ankle precaution measures reached a maximum, excruciatingly stretching out time. Slower and slower we finally escaped to Biza Passage. Although ‘escape’ is a bit of a strong word to describe our Biza Passage experience, where time actually seemed to dilate even more despite our increased speed here not exactly reaching the speed of light. My ankle seemed to be magically better, but unbeknownst to us multiple, arduous route-finding delays were looming ever closer.
We obediently followed the description through Biza Passage, where getting lost and turning around is apparently not uncommon: ‘take the route left or upwards’. Unfortunately, we did not get lost and we did not turn around. We should have. According to the description ‘if you see a yellow wire on the floor, you know you’re in the right place’. Interest and hope had dwindled as we passed the halfway point of our journey, until Billy eagerly spotted the yellow wire, bringing a small flicker of joy to a tired Leila and I. However, the yellow wire went to the right, not the left. But the end of Biza passage leads to a constriction before a boulder choke, so what if the wire is for that (not mentioned in the description if the wire was for the choke). But it told us to always go left…
To the left was a constriction beyond which the way on was unclear. Billy decided to devotedly comply with the description and passed through the left passage’s constriction to investigate. Lying down in a small tube with Leila at the back, I had a private audience of a long, heaving and groaning spectacle which made me really reevaluate the type of the man I had chosen to be with. Once through he soon declared it a ‘shithole’. Leila was then sent to scurry into right hand passage where she quickly discovered a constriction before a boulder choke that the yellow wire did in fact lead the way through. After I had stayed to watch Billy return with even more difficulty, at least 30 minutes had slipped away from us.
Back on track. Time to make up our progress once the Fourth Choke plopped us out into Mainstream Passage. Not quite, for foreshadowing the morning after the trip me and Billy had to actually turn off Ben Sumpter’s YouTube video of the Grand Circle when he reached Mainstream because of the cold, evil and perilous feelings that returned to us. Beginning this section, we shared some minor concerned whisperings about how long we were taking with route finding, despite our generally speedy progress throughout the rest of the cave but being over the halfway point there was nothing for us to do but continue.
Over the obvious boulder pile... Bosh. Immediately approached Third Choke. Bosh. Faithful as always to the CSS description we did as we were told, keeping low under the choke in the streamway, searching for obvious well-worn climb upwards through the boulders to emerge on top of the pile on the other side. But of course, the route description strikes back (again). My hate for this description became thoroughly instilled in my soul as we followed every equally well-worn, equally obvious climb to no avail.
For another 30 minutes (probably more but it’s disheartening to consider) we walked back to the entrance to the choke, seeking a new perspective on the matter and inevitably of our life choices, and waded back into the waist-high water below at least five times. One approach was an ill-advised climb over the top of the loose rocks, at which point me and Leila were quarantined to a space away from the boulders until at last Billy found our way on. After the trip Leila admitted to me that ‘she thought we were going to die’ during this ordeal, which is funny if you are familiar with Leila’s stoic attitude which was firmly and calmly unwavering throughout the trip. We were in fact completely fine I think she was just a bit fed up. Now we were back on track again. Surely it’s fine from now, there’s well under halfway left, southern streamway is long behind us. In good spirits, but with time concerns having slightly increased again we broke back into the streamway, hoping for easy progress.
This is where our downfall inched closer. Before this trip, we knew there was a bit of swimming although we were told that ‘Deep Water’ would likely be only chest height, especially in the dry weather. The description only identifies The Narrows as actually having out of depth sections, which it says can be carefully traversed. Carefully traversing, we again made slow progress in The Narrows since none of us fancied a dip. Pointless really since I was very unsuccessful and was dunked in over my head multiple times. Not to worry, a few short swims in the icy-cold, black void famously never hurt anyone… At last, we reached a sandy bank to walk on. Leaving what we thought was the last of the out of depth waters behind, this time we were actually really definitely hoping to make swift progress, simply wading one final stretch of the circle. Once we turned the corner, following the upstream direction, we were standing chest-height in water that filled a low and wide tunnel, turning another corner in the distance. The water was so dark that it seemed to absorb the reflection of our lights, creating the impression of a black, freezing abyss.
There were no features around, no walls to hold, and no end in sight. Our moods suddenly shifted, very sombre, as we faced this desolate void. We tentatively inched forward, still expecting a simple wading experience. But very rapidly and unexpectedly it became deeper and deeper, and we began to doubt our way on. All we could do was decide to convince Leila to swim a couple of metres and report back. A couple metres in she turned back to us, reaching no end. This is definitely the way. It was meant to be chest-height, right? It would say in the description if we had to properly swim something like this. But the weather is so dry it’s not like it can be any higher than usual….
This period of another approximately 30 minutes was spent mentally and physically moving back and forth, keeping warm, plunging into the cold again, is this definitely the way…? Besides Billy’s unmatched terror of cows, the only other time I have seen him uneasy or slightly scared is swimming out of his depth in a cave. Trying out the swim to investigate was therefore not an option. There was no way to help each other if things went wrong, nothing to hold on to, and not even any knowledge of when it or even if it was going to end since we had only assumed this to be the only way on. These thoughts were shared through a sort of telepathy we had developed between us in the hours of silent stoicism since the entrance series.
Billy broke the news that we had to return the way we came. I was in denial. Surely we can’t go and do all of that again. Southern Streamway wasn’t bad but I didn’t fancy it again. We were so much closer to the other side than if we turned all the way back. But he was unfortunately right, there was no way on, time was passing and we needed to get moving soon before the cold penetrated us any more. Although none of us felt unwell, panicked or upset, I was sincerely and extremely in a bad mood back through The Narrows. Each traverse seemed to have become much harder. My tiredness and negative attitude doubled both the amount I managed to fall in and how much it annoyed me when I did. I imagine Leila was feeling similarly as every now and then we shared a silent look of acknowledgement.
Sometimes I just gave up getting out and tried swimming through but the fact that I hated everything really sort of ruined the ‘calming cold water swim’ vibe. The minor sense of time and warmth urgency along with attempting tricky traversing and involuntarily dunking myself into the icy void left us with a chilling sense of peril associated with what we saw of Main Stream Passage. The remainder of the trip back highlighted the effect our route-finding (or, in my opinion, the stupid description, sorry CSS) had had on the trip. Biza Passage warmed us up and was actually really short; we sped through it in well under half the time.
Lower Main Stream was still slow and slippery but I had adopted a much more laissez-faire attitude to ankle risks at this stage. Reaching the end of this was home turf. Another short rapid crawl through Sandy Passage and before we knew it we were bombing it down Southern Streamway again. Back to the 2nd inlet trickle, pushing onwards in brutal yet satisfying silence. Main Passage was lovely but soon the hardy attitude of Southern Streamway wore off, and by the time we reached the entrance series I had no intention of trying any more. I don’t think I have ever seen anybody cave as slowly as I did, not even those who the mind may wander to...
At many points I apologised to Leila who was stuck behind me; ‘I know I’m going ridiculously slowly’, to which I got a simple and exhausted, ‘It’s fine’. After the trip she told me she was actually lagging behind me when I said that. With Billy speeding ahead we flailed and flopped in unison over the rocks in empty silence. Eventually the end was of course reached, out of which a perfect orange and pink sunset across the valley was waiting for us.
Emily Wormleighton
SMELLY TOES ON A CAVE BEAR'S NOSE!
Linda Wilson crawling into the Crypt of Dates. Photo by Jan Walker.
The team from www.rakinglight.co.uk otherwise known as Linda Wilson and Jan Walker, were joined this year by UBSS members Jess Brock, Joshitha Shivkumar and Emily Wormleighton as well as some of the staff at Kents Cavern,Torquay for another week's work underground documenting the historic graffiti left behind in the cave by early visitors as part of a five year project in the cave. Linda talks us through some of the highlights of this season's work.
Jan and I arrived at our home for the week, a caravan in Paignton, and were pleasantly surprised by the large open plan living room and kitchen, along with three small but entirely serviceable bedrooms. Not quite as spacious or as convenient as our former on site accommodation, but as that's now been converted to office use, we needed somewhere convenient and low cost, and this fitted the bill.
Our working area this year was going to be the aptly named Crypt of Dates, above the showcave path near Bear’s Den. Last year we gained access via an extendable ladder from Bear’s Den, but ladders and tourists aren’t exactly a marriage made in heaven, so this year we wanted to try out a route used last year by Mia Jacobs as a climbing exercise, namely the small connection between the Crypt and an area just off the showcave path below it, as with a short fold-up builders’ ladder (courtesy of the useful stash of equipment I inherited from Tony Boycott) to make up for the depth excavated by William Pengelly in the 1800s. Despite having been told that this route was extremely tight, it proved to be nothing more daunting than a simple upwards wriggle that deposited us right into the Crypt, immediately beside the stal boss we wanted to record.
Stal boss in Crypt of Dates. This occupied us for three working days!
The first thing we did after photographing the boss was carry out some gentle cleaning with a water spray to remove a thin coating of mud deposited in heavy rain from the roof of the cave. This made some of the engravings far easier to read and photograph. We also ended up sitting in a puddle, but such is the life of a graffiti recorder. From Crypt of Dates, we also had a clear sound connection to Bear’s Den and, during the week, the enthusiasm of the school groups was very audible, including the ‘magic chant’ used to bring the lights back on after the usual ‘blackout’. Cave guide (and our co-opted team member) Abi Potter devised this as a way of stopping the kids screaming when the lights went out. So instead, they now chant ‘SMELLY TOES ON A CAVE BEAR’S NOSE!’ and hey presto, the lights come back on. After a week of that we definitely thought the screaming might be a better option!
Crypt of Dates absolutely lived up to its name and we recorded names and dates galore. Dates ranged from 1571 (the earliest date we have so far in the cave) to ones in the 1700s, with many names, initials and even a graffito of a ship, found last year by Rebecca Ireland when she and Jan were working in that area. Ship graffiti isn’t too surprising in what was once a thriving port, but it’s certainly the first time anything like this has been found in a cave.
Ship graffito, Left, original, right, highlighted in red.
Another discovery last year was something we thought was a merchant’s mark (a mark often used to identify trade goods, known from medieval times up present day) and this year, that thought was confirmed as we found ourselves with what appeared to be a breeding colony of such marks! We ended up with seven, possibly eight, as once we knew what we were looking for, or rather the general characteristics of the marks, they became easier to spot. It seems likely that in this context, the marks were being used as personal identifiers, in the same way as a set of initials or a name belongs to an individual person. One of the marks even appears to be in conjunction with the date 1586 which fits with the timing of some of our earlier visitors to this chamber.
The marks have been outlined in red on the above composite image.
Whilst at most, we might encounter a damp puddle in Crypt of Dates, to reach it, our early visitors had to take a very different, and more difficult route as our upwards wriggle was only opened up from below during Pengelly’s operations. The original visitors to Crypt of Dates came in via Bear’s Den and had to cross a small lake by swimming, as prior to this being drained by William Pengelly in the mid-1800s, there was no dry way round, or across the lake. Pengelly remarked in 1868, seemingly in a combination of admiration and horror, on the people who swam the Lake carrying lights and tools and proceeded to leave their mark on the cave walls whilst ‘in a nude state’. So when you’re next stripping off for a skinny dip underground, spare a thought for our early explorers who displayed exactly the scant regard for personal modesty and common sense as modern cavers! And yes, I’ve done (and would still do!) exactly the same thing myself.
We were joined this year by Abi Potter, Emilia Evans and Quinn Arden-Trew from Kents Cavern who all helped with spotting and photographing the inscriptions and other marks and then by Emily, Jess and Joshitha who also a great asset to the team. Jess found one particularly intriguing inscription that puzzled us at first until we realised it had been done in ‘mirror writing down the side of a stall flow between Crypt of Dates and Lake Chamber by someone called Richard.
Mirror writing, Richard (surname unclear).
On Wednesday night, the heavens opened in a cataclysmic rainstorm and so on Thursday water was pouring in everywhere from the roof of the cave making sensible photography almost impossible and after nearly three hours, we retreated, soaking wet and absolutely freezing cold after having water running down the back of our necks and soaking our oversuits for far too long. Even mega hot chocolates courtesy of the café didn’t get us warm and I was still shivering by the time I had to give a public talk that evening in the cave as part of a special graffiti tour evening for the public.
Linda Wilson getting ready to give the talk in the cave. Photo by Jess Brock.
At least this year I wasn't just getting over a nasty bout of laryngitis! I’m told I didn’t make a complete idiot of myself, and people seemed to enjoy it. And I'd managed to mug up enough on merchants' mark to get through the Q&A session unscathed.
Linda Wilson crawling into the Crypt of Dates. Photo by Jan Walker.
The team from www.rakinglight.co.uk otherwise known as Linda Wilson and Jan Walker, were joined this year by UBSS members Jess Brock, Joshitha Shivkumar and Emily Wormleighton as well as some of the staff at Kents Cavern,Torquay for another week's work underground documenting the historic graffiti left behind in the cave by early visitors as part of a five year project in the cave. Linda talks us through some of the highlights of this season's work.
Jan and I arrived at our home for the week, a caravan in Paignton, and were pleasantly surprised by the large open plan living room and kitchen, along with three small but entirely serviceable bedrooms. Not quite as spacious or as convenient as our former on site accommodation, but as that's now been converted to office use, we needed somewhere convenient and low cost, and this fitted the bill.
Our working area this year was going to be the aptly named Crypt of Dates, above the showcave path near Bear’s Den. Last year we gained access via an extendable ladder from Bear’s Den, but ladders and tourists aren’t exactly a marriage made in heaven, so this year we wanted to try out a route used last year by Mia Jacobs as a climbing exercise, namely the small connection between the Crypt and an area just off the showcave path below it, as with a short fold-up builders’ ladder (courtesy of the useful stash of equipment I inherited from Tony Boycott) to make up for the depth excavated by William Pengelly in the 1800s. Despite having been told that this route was extremely tight, it proved to be nothing more daunting than a simple upwards wriggle that deposited us right into the Crypt, immediately beside the stal boss we wanted to record.
Stal boss in Crypt of Dates. This occupied us for three working days!
The first thing we did after photographing the boss was carry out some gentle cleaning with a water spray to remove a thin coating of mud deposited in heavy rain from the roof of the cave. This made some of the engravings far easier to read and photograph. We also ended up sitting in a puddle, but such is the life of a graffiti recorder. From Crypt of Dates, we also had a clear sound connection to Bear’s Den and, during the week, the enthusiasm of the school groups was very audible, including the ‘magic chant’ used to bring the lights back on after the usual ‘blackout’. Cave guide (and our co-opted team member) Abi Potter devised this as a way of stopping the kids screaming when the lights went out. So instead, they now chant ‘SMELLY TOES ON A CAVE BEAR’S NOSE!’ and hey presto, the lights come back on. After a week of that we definitely thought the screaming might be a better option!
Crypt of Dates absolutely lived up to its name and we recorded names and dates galore. Dates ranged from 1571 (the earliest date we have so far in the cave) to ones in the 1700s, with many names, initials and even a graffito of a ship, found last year by Rebecca Ireland when she and Jan were working in that area. Ship graffiti isn’t too surprising in what was once a thriving port, but it’s certainly the first time anything like this has been found in a cave.
Ship graffito, Left, original, right, highlighted in red.
Another discovery last year was something we thought was a merchant’s mark (a mark often used to identify trade goods, known from medieval times up present day) and this year, that thought was confirmed as we found ourselves with what appeared to be a breeding colony of such marks! We ended up with seven, possibly eight, as once we knew what we were looking for, or rather the general characteristics of the marks, they became easier to spot. It seems likely that in this context, the marks were being used as personal identifiers, in the same way as a set of initials or a name belongs to an individual person. One of the marks even appears to be in conjunction with the date 1586 which fits with the timing of some of our earlier visitors to this chamber.
The marks have been outlined in red on the above composite image.
Whilst at most, we might encounter a damp puddle in Crypt of Dates, to reach it, our early visitors had to take a very different, and more difficult route as our upwards wriggle was only opened up from below during Pengelly’s operations. The original visitors to Crypt of Dates came in via Bear’s Den and had to cross a small lake by swimming, as prior to this being drained by William Pengelly in the mid-1800s, there was no dry way round, or across the lake. Pengelly remarked in 1868, seemingly in a combination of admiration and horror, on the people who swam the Lake carrying lights and tools and proceeded to leave their mark on the cave walls whilst ‘in a nude state’. So when you’re next stripping off for a skinny dip underground, spare a thought for our early explorers who displayed exactly the scant regard for personal modesty and common sense as modern cavers! And yes, I’ve done (and would still do!) exactly the same thing myself.
We were joined this year by Abi Potter, Emilia Evans and Quinn Arden-Trew from Kents Cavern who all helped with spotting and photographing the inscriptions and other marks and then by Emily, Jess and Joshitha who also a great asset to the team. Jess found one particularly intriguing inscription that puzzled us at first until we realised it had been done in ‘mirror writing down the side of a stall flow between Crypt of Dates and Lake Chamber by someone called Richard.
Mirror writing, Richard (surname unclear).
On Wednesday night, the heavens opened in a cataclysmic rainstorm and so on Thursday water was pouring in everywhere from the roof of the cave making sensible photography almost impossible and after nearly three hours, we retreated, soaking wet and absolutely freezing cold after having water running down the back of our necks and soaking our oversuits for far too long. Even mega hot chocolates courtesy of the café didn’t get us warm and I was still shivering by the time I had to give a public talk that evening in the cave as part of a special graffiti tour evening for the public.
Linda Wilson getting ready to give the talk in the cave. Photo by Jess Brock.
At least this year I wasn't just getting over a nasty bout of laryngitis! I’m told I didn’t make a complete idiot of myself, and people seemed to enjoy it. And I'd managed to mug up enough on merchants' mark to get through the Q&A session unscathed.
Linda Wilson
GONE FISHING, BACK LATER
Marty Hebden in the entrance rift at Fishmonger's Swallet. Photo by Linda Wilson.
Mud, mud, glorious mud. Fishmonger's Swallet has that in abundance. It also has a lot of other things as well, as Mungo Palmer found out on a recent trip to uncover more of the cave's secrets.
Part 1: Time
The day began with an unusually early start of 9am at the Richmond Building, where after some faff we piled into cars feeling proud of our efficiency. This feeling promptly burst as we found ourselves the last to arrive in Alveston, south Gloucestershire, having delayed not only an entire team of eager archaeologists but also our hosts Hades caving club. After some polite apologies we began the task of suiting up for what had been promised to be one of the muddiest caves in all the land.
Dave Hardwick (he of the pointing finger) giving a rousing speech. Photo by Linda Wilson
A short briefing by Dave Hardwick gave everyone a taste of what lay beyond the unassuming gated entrance, a land of mud and bones; a veritable menagerie of dog, horse, bovine and most excitingly the allure of a potential human or two.
Armed with this knowledge and high hopes, a scramble towards the cave began, from those desperate to satiate their desire to dig. The first group selected were split into diggers (the fun job) and the haulers (the shite job). Having learned from last year of the awfulness of getting stuck hauling a seemingly endless stream of buckets, I elected to remain on the surface and try my hand at some civil engineering.
Adelle Bricking sorting through the results of our labours. Photo by Linda Wilson
PART 2: Another Brick in the Wall
Those of us abandoned on the surface were left with few choices of entertainment, so it was quickly decided that manual labour was the meal of the day. A series of public improvement works were ordered aimed at increasing the accessibility of the cave. Under the watchful eye and carful instruction of members of Hades, we dug, hauled and shifted rocks until something resembling a wall was raised just after midday. It was during our moment of quite reflection on our handiwork that the first echoes of wonderful news came from the cave entrance: “We’ve got a human skull!”. Suddenly our wall seemed significantly less impressive.
News of human remains sent the surface into a frenzy, and after some discussions it was decided that a pause on digging, a change of shifts and a break for lunch should be the way forward. I for one was very pleased by this news, not only because I love food but also because it granted me the opportunity to get my hands dirty digging (so, so, literally).
Organised chaos in the dell, and Mungo Palmer, Emily Wormleighton and Andy Farrant constructing a wall. Photo by Linda Wilson.
PART 3: Brain Damage
After lunch it was time to Run like hell, straight back down to the cave, wave goodbye blue sky and see it in the flesh. Passing the short rifty entrance, I emerged into the familiar sight of Bone Idle Chamber. Already heavily populated with those eager to see what was left of our Iron Age friend.
And dear reader what a sight to behold, laid before us nestled in the muddy ground, like an egg in a nest was the unmistakable dome of a human skull.
The skull in situ. Photo by Mungo Palmer.
Work began almost immediately led by our fantastic archaeologists George and Tom from the land across the Severn. All care and attention was paid to remove the thick clay without causing any damage to the skull. It quickly became clear, as more and more was removed that we had before us an almost intact cranium. After half and hour of more careful work, the skull was finally freed from the grasp of the earth and readied for their return to the land of the living.
Yet, as all that have dug in there are well aware, Fishmonger’s is never content with providing just one incredible find. So as the skull assumed its new place in a bucket, I along with the other archeologists dived straight back into digging with the hopes of retrieving just a few more bones before days end.
A selection of the day's finds, including a large chunk of a horse jaw. Photo by Linda Wilson.
The next three hours were all spent getting comfortably numb in a variety of odd positions, which for sake of time and dignity I won’t begin to try and explain here.
To go through and explain everything we found that afternoon will be a matter for UBSS Proceedings, however it would be remiss to not make any mention of the human mandible (lower jaw bone) with four finely preserved teeth still attached. Found close to the cranium, the initial field assessment suggested they could be from the same individual, which if true would leave us with an almost intact skull (a centrepiece of any future exhibition to be sure).
So after the final bones were excavated and carefully bagged, we bid a fond farewell to Fishmonger’s and began the slow and careful crawl back to the surface, buckets of goodies in tow.
Celebrations and sieving commenced with the cavers and archaeologists putting in a good shift to make sure all the spoil was checked and all the alcohol was drunk!
Dave Hardwick toasting a successful dig! Photo by Linda Wilson.
If this tale has stirred something within you, either to get your hands dirty digging or in trying your luck at finding some bones. We will be organising future digs so keep your eyes, ears peeled and WhatsApp notification on, so you don’t miss your chance at glory.
Marty Hebden in the entrance rift at Fishmonger's Swallet. Photo by Linda Wilson. Mud, mud, glorious mud. Fishmonger's Swallet has that in abundance. It also has a lot of other things as well, as Mungo Palmer found out on a recent trip to uncover more of the cave's secrets.
Part 1: Time
The day began with an unusually early start of 9am at the Richmond Building, where after some faff we piled into cars feeling proud of our efficiency. This feeling promptly burst as we found ourselves the last to arrive in Alveston, south Gloucestershire, having delayed not only an entire team of eager archaeologists but also our hosts Hades caving club. After some polite apologies we began the task of suiting up for what had been promised to be one of the muddiest caves in all the land.
Dave Hardwick (he of the pointing finger) giving a rousing speech. Photo by Linda Wilson
A short briefing by Dave Hardwick gave everyone a taste of what lay beyond the unassuming gated entrance, a land of mud and bones; a veritable menagerie of dog, horse, bovine and most excitingly the allure of a potential human or two.
Armed with this knowledge and high hopes, a scramble towards the cave began, from those desperate to satiate their desire to dig. The first group selected were split into diggers (the fun job) and the haulers (the shite job). Having learned from last year of the awfulness of getting stuck hauling a seemingly endless stream of buckets, I elected to remain on the surface and try my hand at some civil engineering.
Adelle Bricking sorting through the results of our labours. Photo by Linda Wilson
PART 2: Another Brick in the Wall
Those of us abandoned on the surface were left with few choices of entertainment, so it was quickly decided that manual labour was the meal of the day. A series of public improvement works were ordered aimed at increasing the accessibility of the cave. Under the watchful eye and carful instruction of members of Hades, we dug, hauled and shifted rocks until something resembling a wall was raised just after midday. It was during our moment of quite reflection on our handiwork that the first echoes of wonderful news came from the cave entrance: “We’ve got a human skull!”. Suddenly our wall seemed significantly less impressive.
News of human remains sent the surface into a frenzy, and after some discussions it was decided that a pause on digging, a change of shifts and a break for lunch should be the way forward. I for one was very pleased by this news, not only because I love food but also because it granted me the opportunity to get my hands dirty digging (so, so, literally).
Organised chaos in the dell, and Mungo Palmer, Emily Wormleighton and Andy Farrant constructing a wall. Photo by Linda Wilson.PART 3: Brain Damage
After lunch it was time to Run like hell, straight back down to the cave, wave goodbye blue sky and see it in the flesh. Passing the short rifty entrance, I emerged into the familiar sight of Bone Idle Chamber. Already heavily populated with those eager to see what was left of our Iron Age friend.
And dear reader what a sight to behold, laid before us nestled in the muddy ground, like an egg in a nest was the unmistakable dome of a human skull.
The skull in situ. Photo by Mungo Palmer.
Work began almost immediately led by our fantastic archaeologists George and Tom from the land across the Severn. All care and attention was paid to remove the thick clay without causing any damage to the skull. It quickly became clear, as more and more was removed that we had before us an almost intact cranium. After half and hour of more careful work, the skull was finally freed from the grasp of the earth and readied for their return to the land of the living.
Yet, as all that have dug in there are well aware, Fishmonger’s is never content with providing just one incredible find. So as the skull assumed its new place in a bucket, I along with the other archeologists dived straight back into digging with the hopes of retrieving just a few more bones before days end.
A selection of the day's finds, including a large chunk of a horse jaw. Photo by Linda Wilson.
The next three hours were all spent getting comfortably numb in a variety of odd positions, which for sake of time and dignity I won’t begin to try and explain here.
To go through and explain everything we found that afternoon will be a matter for UBSS Proceedings, however it would be remiss to not make any mention of the human mandible (lower jaw bone) with four finely preserved teeth still attached. Found close to the cranium, the initial field assessment suggested they could be from the same individual, which if true would leave us with an almost intact skull (a centrepiece of any future exhibition to be sure).
So after the final bones were excavated and carefully bagged, we bid a fond farewell to Fishmonger’s and began the slow and careful crawl back to the surface, buckets of goodies in tow.
Celebrations and sieving commenced with the cavers and archaeologists putting in a good shift to make sure all the spoil was checked and all the alcohol was drunk!
Dave Hardwick toasting a successful dig! Photo by Linda Wilson.
If this tale has stirred something within you, either to get your hands dirty digging or in trying your luck at finding some bones. We will be organising future digs so keep your eyes, ears peeled and WhatsApp notification on, so you don’t miss your chance at glory.
Mungo Palmer
SWILDON'S TO SUMP 2 - A FILM
Caver and filmmaker Michael Perryman has recently filmed a trip to Sump 2 in Swildon's Hole.
AND SOME THOUGHTS ON CAVE VIDEOGRAPHY
Filmmaker Michael Perryman talks about the techniques he used in making his recent film of a trip down Swildon’s Hole (see above). Michael was on the UBSS expedition to County Clare in 1975 and surveyed Long Gallery in Upper Poulnagollum with John Heathcote , where he met E.K. Tratman. When making his film in GB Cavern he also talked extensively to four of the key UBSS explorers from the 1960s: Mike Norton, Dave Savage, Kit Eaton, and Mike Statham. Michael was a Visiting Professor, in the University of Bristol’s School of Physics between 2011-12 and now live in Bath. You can follow his YouTube channel.
I recently completed filming a trip to Sump 2 in Swildon’s with my caving buddy, Nick Thorne. We went down via the Short Dry Way and Barnes Loop, and returned via the Inclined Rift and the Wet Way: www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1ar2RVAPGg. It's filmed with a GoPro11, and it does allow us to see it in a rather new light. It really is such a beautiful place!
This is only my 6th caving video (the others can be found at my YouTube channel), so I am far from an authority on the subject. My first attempts were in Grebe Swallet, where I am a regular digger in a long-term effort with Chris Binding to get into Upper Flood beyond the boulder choke. I followed this with videos of Waterwheel, Bath-Rods, GB, and Templeton, learning a little more with each, and getting drawn into the challenge of capturing their fascination as best I could. I submitted our Templeton film to the 2025 Hidden Earth video salon competition, and came away with a “merit” (the winner was the great film of Redhouse Lane Swallet by Ian Healey). But more importantly, I came away with detailed comments by the five judges, including Paul Taylor and Keith Edwards. This was very useful, providing much food for thought, and encouragement to improve.
Gone are the days that I could contemplate filming the likes of Blue Pencil, Primrose Pot, or Wuthering Heights, but I’d like to pass on some of what I have learned, partly with the hope of stimulating the next generation to push these filming possibilities, perhaps embracing higher definition, stereo sound, or even 3d. In the meantime, let me try to summarise a few key points.
Objective: Probably the first thing to ask yourself is :“What is the aim the film, and what is the target audience?”. This is undoubtedly personal and to some extent subjective, but you should have some vision of the end result you’re working towards. I’ve only attempted to film caves that I’m very familiar with, and I have a clear idea before setting out as to what I’m going to film, and how. Nonetheless, some have suggested that my films typically do not have a “story” that will engage the average (non-caver) viewer. What I have perhaps cynically concluded is that this type of film is only really of interest to a wider audience if it features a TV personality, preferably someone saying how tight and wet and cold it all is! Discuss!
Camera: My first videos were with an Olympus TG6, their ruggedised prosumer model, and which was pretty good at low light levels. I thought that the resolution was acceptable (1080p), but the feedback I got was more critical, and I moved on to a GoPro11 for Swildon’s. This captures 4k at a 16:9 aspect ratio (i.e. 3840 x 2160 pixels), and the improvement really is very substantial. It took me a bit of time to figure out the optimum settings out of a plethora of options for the GoPro (all dialed up on a touch-sensitive 4x3 cm screen, tough to navigate and operate underground!), including frame rate, ISO setting, onboard stabilisation, and others. A nice feature is voice control, which allows start/stop recording without nudging the camera, which can be useful when alignment is critical. I found the slow-motion settings are inadequate in the low light-levels needed for cave filming, but I can still achieve acceptable effects in post production, by just slowing the frame rate.
Tripod mounting: My ‘house style’ is for shots which are almost always tripod mounted. Apart from a monster (Benbo) tripod which I used in places of relatively easy access, I use a small gorilla tripod, and a cheap extendable thin metal tripod, both of which fit into my waterproof 40x30cm PeliCase, along with lights, camera, hand towel, etc. I am certainly in a minority in using a tripod, and it does slows things down, but the tripod offers several advantages: avoiding camera shake, optimising the composition, and allowing time-lapsed sequences for longer scenes. There are several examples of this last point in my Swildon’s video, e.g. 6m10s-6m20s, and 14m30-14m40. I’ve also been using a (Hohem) gimbal/gyro mount for some of the Swildon’s moving shots.
Lights: For most passages, my normal Fenix headlamp (an HL55, or my spare HL60R, or a combination of both) works well enough, if necessary on the brightest settings. I generally prefer my lighting to be fixed in position and direction. Importantly, any illumination should be well to the side of (or above/below) the camera, separated by at least 50cm, otherwise back reflection from water vapour will result in a foggy image. I generally try to rest my helmet+light on the ground, or against a side wall, to provide the stability while filming. For bigger passages, where even 2-3 Fenix headlamps are insufficient, I’ve invested in a ludicrously expensive (£250) Fenix LR40R (v2.0), which is rated at (and probably is) 15,000 ANSI lumens. It really is wonderfully bright (it targets the Search & Rescue market), and has transformed my filming capabilities. Beware of cheap import lights which claim similar high ratings, but simply do not deliver. And fail quickly.
Lighting/composition: This is a complex topic, and a lot comes down to practice, and the experience of what works. Too little illumination and the scene looks gloomy. Too much, and the walls can be bleached, losing all their beauty. Side illumination can work well. Cave photographers have developed several tricks for nice effects which can be appropriated by the videographer: mist sprays in the air, or spraying the side walls to enhance reflectivities. I have gained some experience of what might work, but the actual results still come down a bit to chance. As examples in my Swildon’s film, at 7m30s, I tried to accentuate the pitch-black background beyond the pitch head, which works well. The shot of the ascent of the Inclined Rift, at 20m00s, required several re-takes to get the right balance of foreground and wavering head-lamp lighting. And so on.
Subject: I have been fortunate that my long-term caving buddy, Nick Thorne, has been equally enthusiastic about filming. He is a slick mover, a patient companion, and offers many useful suggestions and insights. He dived Sump 1 six times to get the right shots, and went up and down the pitch several times so that we could capture several different angles. So far, I have resisted the idea of filming a party of two or more, because I suspect this requires more coordination, patience, and more film time devoted to interactions between the party. But this is a matter of choice.
Takes and re-takes: Our Swildon’s film required 10 trips. Achieving this sort of end product requires a big investment of time, and caves that are not too far away from home ground. Some sequences required repeat takes, only apparent when examining the ‘rushes’ back home. This need for multiple trips probably explains why there are a number of very successful cave photographers (where results can be obtained in just a single trip, albeit requiring much time, patience, and experience), but few videographers targeting quality, where the demands on time are very high.
Continuity: In our early efforts requiring multiple trips or multiple shots, and even with our most recent Swildon’s film, continuity is a constant pitfall. For example, with GB, we filmed sequentially (naturally enough), but as a result the exit shots were obtained 3-4 months after the entrance shots. When the final editing was complete, imagine our embarrassment when seeing the caver heading underground amongst lush vegetation, but emerging to a winter scene quite devoid of foliage (we re-shot). We’ve had shots where we’ve left the tackle bag behind, or where the descent viewed from one angle has the tackle bag over one shoulder, but over the other when filmed from below. Simple to overlook at the time, but jarring when the final film is assembled. We still fall into these traps. In our Templeton film, Nick emerges from the crawl into Weston Beach (7m00s) with a perfectly clean oversuit, but a few seconds later, and a couple of yards further, it’s coated with thick mud!
Filming techniques: The film industry has developed countless tricks and techniques over the years. I’ve been researching and applying some. Let me give three examples:
(1) the use of cutaways, which adds interest, and which also allows discontinuous scenes to be stitched together. An example is the cutaway to Nick’s hand in the descent of the First Double Pot at 9m25s. Grab a few cutaways at critical points, they may always come in useful.
(2) use of a boom for an overhead shot, for example the ascent of the First Double Pot at 20m30s. I borrowed my neighbours “wisteria cutter”, with the camera bolted to the end, for that one.
(3) the ‘drone reveal’, which is one of my top favourite shots of the Swildon’s film, starting at 6m35s, where the camera rises over Nick’s head as he walks forward.
Sound: The GoPro11 does a very decent job of recording sound underground, and I do not use a separate mic. Post production, music to accompany the action is a well-recognised complement to a successful film. I spent several hours selecting the music that I finally used for the Swildon’s sound track. I source mine mostly from the royalty-free Pixabay site (donations to the artist are always gratefully received). The available choice is remarkable. I might stress that much music is now ‘digitally fingerprinted’, in this case by Google. When I upload the final video to YouTube, the system immediately recognises the source of the music, and confirms that it is indeed royalty free.
Foleys: These have been used in cinematography for several decades. Named after Jack Foley, they are everyday sound effects that are added to films and videos in post-production to enhance audio quality. Again, there are big online libraries of such sounds, and many are free. The general idea is to add extra sounds, which might be almost imperceptible but which add, almost subliminally, to the overall experience. I’ve delved into this, and found it quite fascinating (see wikipedia for a useful introduction). Let me give two examples from my Swildon’s film:
(1) most of our trips were in the very dry summer and autumn of 2025 when there was almost no water flowing in the entrance series. We went back in November to film the Wet Way. I added the sound of a running stream to several of the opening clips to provide continuity.
(2) the opening drone sequences had no useful sound track. These shots are visually very dramatic, but felt lifeless. I added a foley of skylarks (from a sound library) to all of the surface shots, including the drone sequences. Try listening to the first couple of minutes without, then with, the accompanying sound track. You probably wouldn’t notice the skylarks on the first listening, but they undoubtedly add to the reality and atmosphere of the overall experience.
Post production: Armed with the raw clips, more than 250 in the case of our Swildon’s film, they have to be assembled using one or other of the many video editing software packages that are available out there. The editing process is capable of truly transforming the clips into something highly watchable. Or otherwise. While I am no expert in video editing, I have learned a lot in the past couple of years.
I am a Mac user. It comes bundled with iMovie, which is powerful enough. But I upgraded to FinalCutPro for editing my Swildon’s film, and if you want to make use of some extra facilities, it does a wonderful job. As can be expected, there is a very steep learning curve. Essentially, you bring all your video clips into a timeline, order them, and then trim as required. The sound levels of each track can be modified, as can the colour balance, cropping, and so. The ‘Ken Burns’ (motion) effect can be added (although it should be used sparingly). Music or voice-overs can be added and moved around in time, and similarly manipulated, with fade-ins, and the use of J-cuts and L-cuts (look it up if you are interested). Captions, title sequences, and a whole host of other tips and tricks can be used. It is important to be ruthless in trimming or rejecting clips, to maintain attention.
Filmmaker Michael Perryman talks about the techniques he used in making his recent film of a trip down Swildon’s Hole (see above). Michael was on the UBSS expedition to County Clare in 1975 and surveyed Long Gallery in Upper Poulnagollum with John Heathcote , where he met E.K. Tratman. When making his film in GB Cavern he also talked extensively to four of the key UBSS explorers from the 1960s: Mike Norton, Dave Savage, Kit Eaton, and Mike Statham. Michael was a Visiting Professor, in the University of Bristol’s School of Physics between 2011-12 and now live in Bath. You can follow his YouTube channel.
I recently completed filming a trip to Sump 2 in Swildon’s with my caving buddy, Nick Thorne. We went down via the Short Dry Way and Barnes Loop, and returned via the Inclined Rift and the Wet Way: www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1ar2RVAPGg. It's filmed with a GoPro11, and it does allow us to see it in a rather new light. It really is such a beautiful place!
This is only my 6th caving video (the others can be found at my YouTube channel), so I am far from an authority on the subject. My first attempts were in Grebe Swallet, where I am a regular digger in a long-term effort with Chris Binding to get into Upper Flood beyond the boulder choke. I followed this with videos of Waterwheel, Bath-Rods, GB, and Templeton, learning a little more with each, and getting drawn into the challenge of capturing their fascination as best I could. I submitted our Templeton film to the 2025 Hidden Earth video salon competition, and came away with a “merit” (the winner was the great film of Redhouse Lane Swallet by Ian Healey). But more importantly, I came away with detailed comments by the five judges, including Paul Taylor and Keith Edwards. This was very useful, providing much food for thought, and encouragement to improve.
Gone are the days that I could contemplate filming the likes of Blue Pencil, Primrose Pot, or Wuthering Heights, but I’d like to pass on some of what I have learned, partly with the hope of stimulating the next generation to push these filming possibilities, perhaps embracing higher definition, stereo sound, or even 3d. In the meantime, let me try to summarise a few key points.
Objective: Probably the first thing to ask yourself is :“What is the aim the film, and what is the target audience?”. This is undoubtedly personal and to some extent subjective, but you should have some vision of the end result you’re working towards. I’ve only attempted to film caves that I’m very familiar with, and I have a clear idea before setting out as to what I’m going to film, and how. Nonetheless, some have suggested that my films typically do not have a “story” that will engage the average (non-caver) viewer. What I have perhaps cynically concluded is that this type of film is only really of interest to a wider audience if it features a TV personality, preferably someone saying how tight and wet and cold it all is! Discuss!
Camera: My first videos were with an Olympus TG6, their ruggedised prosumer model, and which was pretty good at low light levels. I thought that the resolution was acceptable (1080p), but the feedback I got was more critical, and I moved on to a GoPro11 for Swildon’s. This captures 4k at a 16:9 aspect ratio (i.e. 3840 x 2160 pixels), and the improvement really is very substantial. It took me a bit of time to figure out the optimum settings out of a plethora of options for the GoPro (all dialed up on a touch-sensitive 4x3 cm screen, tough to navigate and operate underground!), including frame rate, ISO setting, onboard stabilisation, and others. A nice feature is voice control, which allows start/stop recording without nudging the camera, which can be useful when alignment is critical. I found the slow-motion settings are inadequate in the low light-levels needed for cave filming, but I can still achieve acceptable effects in post production, by just slowing the frame rate.
Tripod mounting: My ‘house style’ is for shots which are almost always tripod mounted. Apart from a monster (Benbo) tripod which I used in places of relatively easy access, I use a small gorilla tripod, and a cheap extendable thin metal tripod, both of which fit into my waterproof 40x30cm PeliCase, along with lights, camera, hand towel, etc. I am certainly in a minority in using a tripod, and it does slows things down, but the tripod offers several advantages: avoiding camera shake, optimising the composition, and allowing time-lapsed sequences for longer scenes. There are several examples of this last point in my Swildon’s video, e.g. 6m10s-6m20s, and 14m30-14m40. I’ve also been using a (Hohem) gimbal/gyro mount for some of the Swildon’s moving shots.
Lights: For most passages, my normal Fenix headlamp (an HL55, or my spare HL60R, or a combination of both) works well enough, if necessary on the brightest settings. I generally prefer my lighting to be fixed in position and direction. Importantly, any illumination should be well to the side of (or above/below) the camera, separated by at least 50cm, otherwise back reflection from water vapour will result in a foggy image. I generally try to rest my helmet+light on the ground, or against a side wall, to provide the stability while filming. For bigger passages, where even 2-3 Fenix headlamps are insufficient, I’ve invested in a ludicrously expensive (£250) Fenix LR40R (v2.0), which is rated at (and probably is) 15,000 ANSI lumens. It really is wonderfully bright (it targets the Search & Rescue market), and has transformed my filming capabilities. Beware of cheap import lights which claim similar high ratings, but simply do not deliver. And fail quickly.
Lighting/composition: This is a complex topic, and a lot comes down to practice, and the experience of what works. Too little illumination and the scene looks gloomy. Too much, and the walls can be bleached, losing all their beauty. Side illumination can work well. Cave photographers have developed several tricks for nice effects which can be appropriated by the videographer: mist sprays in the air, or spraying the side walls to enhance reflectivities. I have gained some experience of what might work, but the actual results still come down a bit to chance. As examples in my Swildon’s film, at 7m30s, I tried to accentuate the pitch-black background beyond the pitch head, which works well. The shot of the ascent of the Inclined Rift, at 20m00s, required several re-takes to get the right balance of foreground and wavering head-lamp lighting. And so on.
Subject: I have been fortunate that my long-term caving buddy, Nick Thorne, has been equally enthusiastic about filming. He is a slick mover, a patient companion, and offers many useful suggestions and insights. He dived Sump 1 six times to get the right shots, and went up and down the pitch several times so that we could capture several different angles. So far, I have resisted the idea of filming a party of two or more, because I suspect this requires more coordination, patience, and more film time devoted to interactions between the party. But this is a matter of choice.
Takes and re-takes: Our Swildon’s film required 10 trips. Achieving this sort of end product requires a big investment of time, and caves that are not too far away from home ground. Some sequences required repeat takes, only apparent when examining the ‘rushes’ back home. This need for multiple trips probably explains why there are a number of very successful cave photographers (where results can be obtained in just a single trip, albeit requiring much time, patience, and experience), but few videographers targeting quality, where the demands on time are very high.
Continuity: In our early efforts requiring multiple trips or multiple shots, and even with our most recent Swildon’s film, continuity is a constant pitfall. For example, with GB, we filmed sequentially (naturally enough), but as a result the exit shots were obtained 3-4 months after the entrance shots. When the final editing was complete, imagine our embarrassment when seeing the caver heading underground amongst lush vegetation, but emerging to a winter scene quite devoid of foliage (we re-shot). We’ve had shots where we’ve left the tackle bag behind, or where the descent viewed from one angle has the tackle bag over one shoulder, but over the other when filmed from below. Simple to overlook at the time, but jarring when the final film is assembled. We still fall into these traps. In our Templeton film, Nick emerges from the crawl into Weston Beach (7m00s) with a perfectly clean oversuit, but a few seconds later, and a couple of yards further, it’s coated with thick mud!
Filming techniques: The film industry has developed countless tricks and techniques over the years. I’ve been researching and applying some. Let me give three examples:
(1) the use of cutaways, which adds interest, and which also allows discontinuous scenes to be stitched together. An example is the cutaway to Nick’s hand in the descent of the First Double Pot at 9m25s. Grab a few cutaways at critical points, they may always come in useful.
(2) use of a boom for an overhead shot, for example the ascent of the First Double Pot at 20m30s. I borrowed my neighbours “wisteria cutter”, with the camera bolted to the end, for that one.
(3) the ‘drone reveal’, which is one of my top favourite shots of the Swildon’s film, starting at 6m35s, where the camera rises over Nick’s head as he walks forward.
Sound: The GoPro11 does a very decent job of recording sound underground, and I do not use a separate mic. Post production, music to accompany the action is a well-recognised complement to a successful film. I spent several hours selecting the music that I finally used for the Swildon’s sound track. I source mine mostly from the royalty-free Pixabay site (donations to the artist are always gratefully received). The available choice is remarkable. I might stress that much music is now ‘digitally fingerprinted’, in this case by Google. When I upload the final video to YouTube, the system immediately recognises the source of the music, and confirms that it is indeed royalty free.
Foleys: These have been used in cinematography for several decades. Named after Jack Foley, they are everyday sound effects that are added to films and videos in post-production to enhance audio quality. Again, there are big online libraries of such sounds, and many are free. The general idea is to add extra sounds, which might be almost imperceptible but which add, almost subliminally, to the overall experience. I’ve delved into this, and found it quite fascinating (see wikipedia for a useful introduction). Let me give two examples from my Swildon’s film:
(1) most of our trips were in the very dry summer and autumn of 2025 when there was almost no water flowing in the entrance series. We went back in November to film the Wet Way. I added the sound of a running stream to several of the opening clips to provide continuity.
(2) the opening drone sequences had no useful sound track. These shots are visually very dramatic, but felt lifeless. I added a foley of skylarks (from a sound library) to all of the surface shots, including the drone sequences. Try listening to the first couple of minutes without, then with, the accompanying sound track. You probably wouldn’t notice the skylarks on the first listening, but they undoubtedly add to the reality and atmosphere of the overall experience.
Post production: Armed with the raw clips, more than 250 in the case of our Swildon’s film, they have to be assembled using one or other of the many video editing software packages that are available out there. The editing process is capable of truly transforming the clips into something highly watchable. Or otherwise. While I am no expert in video editing, I have learned a lot in the past couple of years.
I am a Mac user. It comes bundled with iMovie, which is powerful enough. But I upgraded to FinalCutPro for editing my Swildon’s film, and if you want to make use of some extra facilities, it does a wonderful job. As can be expected, there is a very steep learning curve. Essentially, you bring all your video clips into a timeline, order them, and then trim as required. The sound levels of each track can be modified, as can the colour balance, cropping, and so. The ‘Ken Burns’ (motion) effect can be added (although it should be used sparingly). Music or voice-overs can be added and moved around in time, and similarly manipulated, with fade-ins, and the use of J-cuts and L-cuts (look it up if you are interested). Captions, title sequences, and a whole host of other tips and tricks can be used. It is important to be ruthless in trimming or rejecting clips, to maintain attention.
Michael Perryman
UNDERLAND
Writer Robert McFarlane's book Underland has recently brought to the screen by director Robert Petit in a film of the same name. Merryn Matthews enjoyed the film, commenting:
Firstly, I have to say I was already a fan of the Underland book, and class it as reccomended reading. In it Robert Mcfarlane weaves meaning between the strange and wonderful reasons humans are drawn underground, asking 'Why do we seek the void?'.
The film collates documentary style tales from around the world, offering new perspectives on why we love caving, from science to rituals.
Visually, it makes for a decent film rendition, with some amazing photography and lighting of cavernous spaces. It's simple and relaxing (sleepy if not for the dramatic music and slight claustrophobia), but mostly worth viewing just to see some incredible footage and 3d surveying of the Cenote in Mexico, visited by the Mayans thousands of years ago.
Although sadly no UK caves really feature, some Mendip locals helped train the film crew - keep an eye out in the credits
There are limited places where this can now be seen, but the trailer can still be viewed, and you might be lucky enough to catch it somewhere. And you've got to love a production company called Dogwoof!
Writer Robert McFarlane's book Underland has recently brought to the screen by director Robert Petit in a film of the same name. Merryn Matthews enjoyed the film, commenting:
Firstly, I have to say I was already a fan of the Underland book, and class it as reccomended reading. In it Robert Mcfarlane weaves meaning between the strange and wonderful reasons humans are drawn underground, asking 'Why do we seek the void?'.
The film collates documentary style tales from around the world, offering new perspectives on why we love caving, from science to rituals.
Visually, it makes for a decent film rendition, with some amazing photography and lighting of cavernous spaces. It's simple and relaxing (sleepy if not for the dramatic music and slight claustrophobia), but mostly worth viewing just to see some incredible footage and 3d surveying of the Cenote in Mexico, visited by the Mayans thousands of years ago.
Although sadly no UK caves really feature, some Mendip locals helped train the film crew - keep an eye out in the credits
Merryn Matthews
There are limited places where this can now be seen, but the trailer can still be viewed, and you might be lucky enough to catch it somewhere. And you've got to love a production company called Dogwoof!
MS BEAR READ TO THE END, DID YOU?
Due to dereliction of duty on the part of one of your harassed editors who was travelling at the time, we didn't solicitor love and praise and fawning adoration via WhatsApp last month, but nonetheless we treasure every reaction we get! Even if you hate it and tell us that, it means you've read (or skipped over!) the content. So here's last month's crop of comments ...
- I got to the end, Great Worm! 🪱 [Elliott McCall]
- Cor, people have been busy and intrepid! Some fabulous pix as well. And I am seriously coveting that mobile charger wot Ben made (sadly I have neither Nora or Scurion to offer ...) [Sharon Wheeler and FT Bear]
- That made me regret never having been to Matienzo. I suppose you can’t do everything, although it is worth trying. [Dick Willis]
- Okay, that worm mascot is completely adorable! Some amazing trips, super photos, and great write-ups! [ Jan Walker]
You don't have smelly toes, Ms Bear!
THE END
Due to dereliction of duty on the part of one of your harassed editors who was travelling at the time, we didn't solicitor love and praise and fawning adoration via WhatsApp last month, but nonetheless we treasure every reaction we get! Even if you hate it and tell us that, it means you've read (or skipped over!) the content. So here's last month's crop of comments ...
- I got to the end, Great Worm! 🪱 [Elliott McCall]
- Cor, people have been busy and intrepid! Some fabulous pix as well. And I am seriously coveting that mobile charger wot Ben made (sadly I have neither Nora or Scurion to offer ...) [Sharon Wheeler and FT Bear]
- That made me regret never having been to Matienzo. I suppose you can’t do everything, although it is worth trying. [Dick Willis]
- Okay, that worm mascot is completely adorable! Some amazing trips, super photos, and great write-ups! [ Jan Walker]
You don't have smelly toes, Ms Bear!
THE END