OP
- Messages
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- Reaction score
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- On the Fun Side of Trump's Wall
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My presentation is tomorrow evening. I've spent some time over the past few days organizing what I want to say. And for those of you who've offered, I thank you again for use of your photos and videos. I'll be projecting them as a slide show on the wall behind me while I speak.
After a bit of organizing and editing, I've decided to focus on my initial impressions on my first couple of dives at Ginnie, and perhaps talk a bit more about Peacock and Little River after the initial presentation.
What follows is a "fleshed out" description of what I came up with. Since I have another day to make changes, any comments or suggestions are welcomed ...
Wet Rocks
by Bob Bailey
One of the things I’ve always loved about diving is that no matter how long you do it, or how much of it you’ve done, there is always something new to experience. Such was the case on my recent trip to Florida, where I went to learn how to dive in caves.
Beneath the forests, pastures and rivers of northern Florida exists a vast labyrinth of flooded caves … a system of flowing springs creating a miles-long maze of sculpted sandstone and crystal-clear water. Exploring these underwater caves requires solid diving skills and specialized training designed to make sure that once you enter this underground realm you will be able to find your way out again. Rules, procedures and skills for cave diving have evolved over the past several decades, and are still evolving. Training agencies specializing in cave diving, and more particularly the instructors and safety officers representing those agencies, are leading the effort to make cave diving safer and more accessible to divers who may otherwise never get the opportunity to experience this amazing underwater world.
Of course, the obvious question is why would anybody want to go diving in a flooded cave? What’s down there to see? The answer is … wet rocks.
The Caves
My first exposure to the Florida caves came at a place called Ginnie Springs. Like many of the springs, the entrances are on privately-owned land and this one had been developed into a popular park … a place not just for divers but also for camping, picnicking, swimming, or just floating lazily on the Santa Fe River in inflatable tubes. We entered the park and stopped at a picnic area next to a spur in the river. The water was amazingly clear, reflecting like bluish crystal into a shallow basin that was perhaps only a dozen feet deep … nature’s perfect swimming pool. Along one side of the basin was a dark, gaping mouth leading into a cavern known as The Ballroom. This would be the site of our first lesson.
We spent our first hour in the shallows around the basin, practicing the rudiments of running cave line and tying off onto rocks, then following the line and leading each other along the line while wearing masks that had been blacked out so we could not see. These drills are intended to reinforce the most basic rule in cave diving, which is to always keep a continuous guideline between yourself and your exit. Learning to maintain it while not being able to see teaches you how to react if you should lose your light, or kick up silt inside a cave to the point where you can’t see where you’re going. After performing the drills satisfactorily, our instructor led us into the maw of the cavern.
As a first exposure, The Ballroom is pretty large. It runs back perhaps a hundred feet or so, and down to a depth of about 45 feet … ending at a grate designed to keep the untrained out of the central cave system. As you approach the grate, you can feel the force of the water coming out of the cave, flowing through the cavern and out into the river. Moving past the grate the cavern curves upward and back around toward the entrance, exposing swirling rock shapes, cracks, and boulders. It reminded me, in miniature, of some of the wind-sculpted rock formations I’d seen while traveling through the southwest some years ago. We spent the rest of our day inside the cavern, practicing line work and the basic safety drills that form the beginning part of our training. After a grueling several hours our instructor finally declared us fit for diving in caverns and told us that the next day we’d be entering the larger part of the Ginnie Springs cave system.
The next day our instructor took us down to a part of Ginnie Springs known as the “Devil’s System”. A wooden platform and series of stairways leads down into a shallow inlet. The placid, crystal clear water is only about four feet deep and is a favorite place for swimmers and tubers to enter the water. About 30 feet out from the stairs a swirl of water caught my eye, and I noticed that what I had taken for a darker bottom was really a pit in the river floor about 20 feet wide and probably about that deep. My instructor told me it was one of the entrances into the cave system we’d be diving in today, and was called “Devil’s Eye”. Looking dubiously at that gently boiling water I asked if we were going down THAT? To my relief he said no … we’d be going down another entry called “Devil’s Ear”. Then he pointed out into the river, off to our left, where a buoy about 100 feet away marked the location of a second entrance. Noticing the even greater swirl of water boiling up around that entrance, I wasn’t the least bit comforted.
We talked about our dive plan, geared up and headed out toward the Devil’s Ear. The river here is quite shallow all the way to the lip of the entrance. As we approached the edge we could feel the force of the water boiling up out of that hole, and I began to worry about the instructions we’d been given for entering the cave, which is to make yourself as negative as possible and pull yourself in. But it turned out to be easier than I’d expected. At 20 feet we paused briefly by a pair of logs sitting crosswise to the entrance while our instructor tied in a reel. Looking back toward the surface, I could see swirls of red streaking across the light of the hole above us … tannin leaching from the trees along the shoreline make the river look as though it’s bleeding when viewed from below. Then, at a signal from our instructor, we turned down into the darkness below us. It was time to go.
The water flowing up out of that cave was surprisingly strong, and there wouldn’t have been much hope of swimming against it. But the sandstone walls and ceiling, sculpted by millennia of flowing water, provided sturdy places to grab hold and pull yourself along. It felt strange indeed to have to pull oneself downward. Between the effort and exhilaration I realized I was breathing heavily, and had to concentrate on slowing down my breathing to a more normal pace. At last we came to where a permanent line and a warning sign mark the beginning of the main cave system. We attached our reel to the main line, and began penetrating the cave. This part of the system is quite large and impressive, and our instructor took us up close to the ceiling, some 30 feet above the cave floor, where there was much less flow to fight as we made our way into the cave. I remembered him telling us to always maintain sight of where the line was, but it was difficult to do while looking around in amazement at the swirling shapes of sandstone protruding at weird angles in every direction. Gravity has no meaning down here, and shapes are determined by flows and eddies. But my instructor noticed me not paying attention, and a quick drill involving a blackout mask and a safety spool taught me to ALWAYS reserve a piece of my consciousness to know where that line is at all times.
We spent the entirety of that dive in the large part of the cave, working on drills that would instill in us how to find our way out if we lost sight of the line, or if we somehow became separated from our buddy. I don’t think we went more than a couple hundred feet inside the cave … no more than the foyer of a cave system that spans several miles of explored passages. At last we were able to relax and let the flow carry us back toward the entrance, clinging to the rocks as we exited to prevent the flow from spitting us out to the surface. After doing our safety stop while clinging to the logs we'd passed on the way in, we made our way back up to the river and swam to the stairs leading to shore … I'd survived my first real cave dive. At an emotional level, it brought back memories of my first-ever OW dive … with all the uncertainty, effort, exhilaration, and wonderment I remember feeling back then at this strange, new environment.
Over the course of the next seven days we did fifteen more dives, visiting not just Ginnie Springs, but two other cave systems as well. Each dive was successively more complex and challenging. Each cave had its own unique personality. Some had considerable flow, others had practically none at all. Some had huge passageways while others were so restricted you had to almost pull yourself through. Some were narrow tunnels while others had vast open spaces, swirling columns and mysterious side passages. Some were rocky, others were silty. All had an otherworldly appeal that beckoned with a siren-like quality. The caves are a world onto themselves, a place of limitless complexity and mysterious beauty. They are also a harsh and unforgiving environment, where a diver can find his limitations all too easily. I can see where, for some, they can become an addiction. But they must be respected, and a diver must always know when to say “enough” and turn toward the safety of the surface.
The Training
Cave diving, like regular open water diving, has multiple levels of certification. Each successive level gives you more complex skills and therefore greater access to the caves. The basic levels of training place limits on how far in you can go, how much gas you must reserve for your exit, how deep you can go, and how complex your navigation within the cave can be. Higher levels are geared toward those willing to excel in their skills with the goal of seeking passages yet unexplored.
The popular caves maintain permanent guidelines for divers to follow, both in the main parts of the cave and through many of the side passages. Many loop back on themselves, creating complex circuits that can challenge the navigational skills of even the most experienced diver. Successive levels of training allow you to place your own guidelines, or to “jump” from one guideline to another for exploring side passages.
Some training agencies exist strictly for teaching cave diving, but there are also cave classes offered by some of the more mainstream technical training agencies. And as with standard recreational training, although there are minor differences in what each agency teaches, they all follow a standardized set of basic rules designed to get you not just into the cave, but back out again safely and reliably. These rules are:
• Always keep a continuous guideline between you and the cave entrance
• Always dive within the limits of your training
• Always reserve adequate air supply
• Always stay within your depth limits
• Always carry at least three lights
Cave diving isn’t particularly difficult, but like all new environments there are things that even the most experienced diver must learn and adapt to … and much of the adaptation will make you feel like a new diver all over again. The caves are beautiful and alluring, but they’re also unforgiving in that a diver who becomes lost or disoriented cannot simply go to the surface. And for this reason they are not to be entered without getting the proper training.
For those who seek new experiences, this can be one of the most unique and exhilarating ways to dive.
After a bit of organizing and editing, I've decided to focus on my initial impressions on my first couple of dives at Ginnie, and perhaps talk a bit more about Peacock and Little River after the initial presentation.
What follows is a "fleshed out" description of what I came up with. Since I have another day to make changes, any comments or suggestions are welcomed ...
Wet Rocks
by Bob Bailey
One of the things I’ve always loved about diving is that no matter how long you do it, or how much of it you’ve done, there is always something new to experience. Such was the case on my recent trip to Florida, where I went to learn how to dive in caves.
Beneath the forests, pastures and rivers of northern Florida exists a vast labyrinth of flooded caves … a system of flowing springs creating a miles-long maze of sculpted sandstone and crystal-clear water. Exploring these underwater caves requires solid diving skills and specialized training designed to make sure that once you enter this underground realm you will be able to find your way out again. Rules, procedures and skills for cave diving have evolved over the past several decades, and are still evolving. Training agencies specializing in cave diving, and more particularly the instructors and safety officers representing those agencies, are leading the effort to make cave diving safer and more accessible to divers who may otherwise never get the opportunity to experience this amazing underwater world.
Of course, the obvious question is why would anybody want to go diving in a flooded cave? What’s down there to see? The answer is … wet rocks.
The Caves
My first exposure to the Florida caves came at a place called Ginnie Springs. Like many of the springs, the entrances are on privately-owned land and this one had been developed into a popular park … a place not just for divers but also for camping, picnicking, swimming, or just floating lazily on the Santa Fe River in inflatable tubes. We entered the park and stopped at a picnic area next to a spur in the river. The water was amazingly clear, reflecting like bluish crystal into a shallow basin that was perhaps only a dozen feet deep … nature’s perfect swimming pool. Along one side of the basin was a dark, gaping mouth leading into a cavern known as The Ballroom. This would be the site of our first lesson.
We spent our first hour in the shallows around the basin, practicing the rudiments of running cave line and tying off onto rocks, then following the line and leading each other along the line while wearing masks that had been blacked out so we could not see. These drills are intended to reinforce the most basic rule in cave diving, which is to always keep a continuous guideline between yourself and your exit. Learning to maintain it while not being able to see teaches you how to react if you should lose your light, or kick up silt inside a cave to the point where you can’t see where you’re going. After performing the drills satisfactorily, our instructor led us into the maw of the cavern.
As a first exposure, The Ballroom is pretty large. It runs back perhaps a hundred feet or so, and down to a depth of about 45 feet … ending at a grate designed to keep the untrained out of the central cave system. As you approach the grate, you can feel the force of the water coming out of the cave, flowing through the cavern and out into the river. Moving past the grate the cavern curves upward and back around toward the entrance, exposing swirling rock shapes, cracks, and boulders. It reminded me, in miniature, of some of the wind-sculpted rock formations I’d seen while traveling through the southwest some years ago. We spent the rest of our day inside the cavern, practicing line work and the basic safety drills that form the beginning part of our training. After a grueling several hours our instructor finally declared us fit for diving in caverns and told us that the next day we’d be entering the larger part of the Ginnie Springs cave system.
The next day our instructor took us down to a part of Ginnie Springs known as the “Devil’s System”. A wooden platform and series of stairways leads down into a shallow inlet. The placid, crystal clear water is only about four feet deep and is a favorite place for swimmers and tubers to enter the water. About 30 feet out from the stairs a swirl of water caught my eye, and I noticed that what I had taken for a darker bottom was really a pit in the river floor about 20 feet wide and probably about that deep. My instructor told me it was one of the entrances into the cave system we’d be diving in today, and was called “Devil’s Eye”. Looking dubiously at that gently boiling water I asked if we were going down THAT? To my relief he said no … we’d be going down another entry called “Devil’s Ear”. Then he pointed out into the river, off to our left, where a buoy about 100 feet away marked the location of a second entrance. Noticing the even greater swirl of water boiling up around that entrance, I wasn’t the least bit comforted.
We talked about our dive plan, geared up and headed out toward the Devil’s Ear. The river here is quite shallow all the way to the lip of the entrance. As we approached the edge we could feel the force of the water boiling up out of that hole, and I began to worry about the instructions we’d been given for entering the cave, which is to make yourself as negative as possible and pull yourself in. But it turned out to be easier than I’d expected. At 20 feet we paused briefly by a pair of logs sitting crosswise to the entrance while our instructor tied in a reel. Looking back toward the surface, I could see swirls of red streaking across the light of the hole above us … tannin leaching from the trees along the shoreline make the river look as though it’s bleeding when viewed from below. Then, at a signal from our instructor, we turned down into the darkness below us. It was time to go.
The water flowing up out of that cave was surprisingly strong, and there wouldn’t have been much hope of swimming against it. But the sandstone walls and ceiling, sculpted by millennia of flowing water, provided sturdy places to grab hold and pull yourself along. It felt strange indeed to have to pull oneself downward. Between the effort and exhilaration I realized I was breathing heavily, and had to concentrate on slowing down my breathing to a more normal pace. At last we came to where a permanent line and a warning sign mark the beginning of the main cave system. We attached our reel to the main line, and began penetrating the cave. This part of the system is quite large and impressive, and our instructor took us up close to the ceiling, some 30 feet above the cave floor, where there was much less flow to fight as we made our way into the cave. I remembered him telling us to always maintain sight of where the line was, but it was difficult to do while looking around in amazement at the swirling shapes of sandstone protruding at weird angles in every direction. Gravity has no meaning down here, and shapes are determined by flows and eddies. But my instructor noticed me not paying attention, and a quick drill involving a blackout mask and a safety spool taught me to ALWAYS reserve a piece of my consciousness to know where that line is at all times.
We spent the entirety of that dive in the large part of the cave, working on drills that would instill in us how to find our way out if we lost sight of the line, or if we somehow became separated from our buddy. I don’t think we went more than a couple hundred feet inside the cave … no more than the foyer of a cave system that spans several miles of explored passages. At last we were able to relax and let the flow carry us back toward the entrance, clinging to the rocks as we exited to prevent the flow from spitting us out to the surface. After doing our safety stop while clinging to the logs we'd passed on the way in, we made our way back up to the river and swam to the stairs leading to shore … I'd survived my first real cave dive. At an emotional level, it brought back memories of my first-ever OW dive … with all the uncertainty, effort, exhilaration, and wonderment I remember feeling back then at this strange, new environment.
Over the course of the next seven days we did fifteen more dives, visiting not just Ginnie Springs, but two other cave systems as well. Each dive was successively more complex and challenging. Each cave had its own unique personality. Some had considerable flow, others had practically none at all. Some had huge passageways while others were so restricted you had to almost pull yourself through. Some were narrow tunnels while others had vast open spaces, swirling columns and mysterious side passages. Some were rocky, others were silty. All had an otherworldly appeal that beckoned with a siren-like quality. The caves are a world onto themselves, a place of limitless complexity and mysterious beauty. They are also a harsh and unforgiving environment, where a diver can find his limitations all too easily. I can see where, for some, they can become an addiction. But they must be respected, and a diver must always know when to say “enough” and turn toward the safety of the surface.
The Training
Cave diving, like regular open water diving, has multiple levels of certification. Each successive level gives you more complex skills and therefore greater access to the caves. The basic levels of training place limits on how far in you can go, how much gas you must reserve for your exit, how deep you can go, and how complex your navigation within the cave can be. Higher levels are geared toward those willing to excel in their skills with the goal of seeking passages yet unexplored.
The popular caves maintain permanent guidelines for divers to follow, both in the main parts of the cave and through many of the side passages. Many loop back on themselves, creating complex circuits that can challenge the navigational skills of even the most experienced diver. Successive levels of training allow you to place your own guidelines, or to “jump” from one guideline to another for exploring side passages.
Some training agencies exist strictly for teaching cave diving, but there are also cave classes offered by some of the more mainstream technical training agencies. And as with standard recreational training, although there are minor differences in what each agency teaches, they all follow a standardized set of basic rules designed to get you not just into the cave, but back out again safely and reliably. These rules are:
• Always keep a continuous guideline between you and the cave entrance
• Always dive within the limits of your training
• Always reserve adequate air supply
• Always stay within your depth limits
• Always carry at least three lights
Cave diving isn’t particularly difficult, but like all new environments there are things that even the most experienced diver must learn and adapt to … and much of the adaptation will make you feel like a new diver all over again. The caves are beautiful and alluring, but they’re also unforgiving in that a diver who becomes lost or disoriented cannot simply go to the surface. And for this reason they are not to be entered without getting the proper training.
For those who seek new experiences, this can be one of the most unique and exhilarating ways to dive.
