Cave Diggers

by Harvey Lomas

The golden age of Yorkshire pot-holing, as described by E.E. Roberts, had finished some sixty years before my interest in caving began. Long gone were the days when people could explore open shafts on the fells for the first time. Now one is more likely to have to wait in a queue at the bottom of a pitch in some classic Yorkshire pot-hole.

Therefore, expeditions abroad to regions where caves were relatively unexplored became the only vent for one’s desires as an explorer of new ground. However, there were also the fortunate occasions when a discovery could be made by simple observation whilst exploring some obscure region. Such an incident occurred in Dan-Yr-Ogof in South Wales, when, by scaling an aven, we reached a hitherto undiscovered section of the cave. It was a great thrill to traverse new ground and to take a tentative step into the broken darkness.

When I came to live in the Dales, I had the opportunity of joining a group of people who lived locally and went cave-digging both mid-week and occasionally at weekends. They were from a number of clubs and were very dedicated, in that rather than merely going caving, they laid siege to a particular location. The first thing I had to grow accustomed to was the carrying of such unfamiliar items of equipment as bags of cement, rolls of hoses, long straight pipes, and even oil drums down narrow, twisting passages. Furthermore, these had to be man-handled across a moor, winter and summer alike, with bad weather no excuse!

There are several kinds of ‘digs’, and the term covers the excavation of holes on the fell tops, the draining of sumps (by bailing, syphoning and damming), and the diversion of streams on or under the surface. There is also the quarrying kind of ‘dig’, such as Brunskill on Leek Fell. Here, we blasted, chipped and chiselled our way down a series of pitches and crawls (virtually making our own cave) for nearly two years, always being lured on by a booming echo and the sound of waterfalls. We followed the passage, such as it was, to a small pitch, where at the bottom there was just a small crack. At this point our will gave in.

At that time many theories were expounded as to what lay beyond: some members had the Mastercave and all the pitches named; others had planned who they would invite on the first exploration. It is this imagination that carries a cave excavator forward through the times of disappointment. Yet if a ‘dig’ is a particularly good one (not too far from the road, with easy access from the entrance, as well as being comfortable and dry) there is almost a reluctance for it “to go”, in that after all the exploration, wandering with bucket and spade from shake-hole to shake-hole, there is a yearning for the remote part of an unseen cavern to retain something of its mystery.

I remember one winter night tramping over the nearby fells, peering down at the soft lights shining from the warm dwellings where any sane human being would desire to be! There was, however, a charm in being on a moonlit fell with the wonderful clarity and perspective of the surrounding countryside standing out so clearly in the snow. As we approached the site, we found that the shake-hole was deep with snow, so we dug a six-foot hole down to the top of the shaft. Once we got down below, were drenched by melt water seeping down through the shoring. On leaving the ‘dig’, we climbed out of the sheltered hollow into the freezing blast, to experience a considerable wind-chill factor. When we arrived at the cars, there seemed a thousand and one buckles and belts to undo from our stiff and ridged garments.

There is a persistence or stubbornness about people who go ‘digging’, as they search the unfrequented regions of caves or descend shafts that are rarely explored – usually with good reason. There is a hole to dig, a boulder-choke to shore up, a shaft to follow, or some impenetrable crawl to be blasted so that the true route can be revealed.

Sometimes a ‘dig’ might not be expected “to go” but is explored only to prove a theory, or indeed perhaps to search for a reason for the whole pursuit in the first place. The digger might like the comradeship of being in a team of dedicated people (but that is found in caving anyway) or the challenge of some technical point, or even the aesthetic pleasure of being on the fells. There is, however, always the competitive drive of having a good discovery under one’s belt, and the pleasure of holding one’s head high in the caving fraternity.