Clearing Up In Gaping Ghyll
The preparations for the Gaping Ghyll Meet of 1924 commenced on 25th May, when three men drove out to Clapham, and sorted the tackle which had remained undisturbed at Clapdale for two years, lighting that glorious bonfire of rubbish which is remembered with so much joy.
A party slept at Buckley’s caravan the following Friday, intending to camp next night at G.G. Going up in the rain on Saturday, they worked all day under depressing conditions, setting up tent, gantry, and windlass, which were sledged up by Mr. Lund, the new tenant of Clapdale.
Mr. Lund was good enough to give us the key of the empty house, and as the rain grew worse the news came up that Buckley and Robinson were at work there on the dinner. The writer has seldom felt more acute sense of real comfort than when the door closed on the storm, and he stepped in before a roaring fire, ate a magnificent dinner, and later lay down to sleep on bare boards with a solid roof overhead.
The storm of June 1st was even worse up till three o’clock. Fell Beck was in stupendous flood, and the prospect for Whitsuntide not encouraging. Burrow and his men were well satisfied to get the engine into the tent, set it up and test its running. It was a sign of changed times that all the party of eight returned by motor to Leeds (where there had been nearly two inches of rain).
No less than seventeen men had settled down in camp by dark on Friday, 6th June. The first group came up from Clapdale in the early afternoon through heavy rain, but on the whole the day was not bad, nor was Fell Beck in flood.
Saturday morning opened misty and showery. The delayed task of putting the engine and the tackle in position was completed and the dam built. It was decided that the outlook was not promising enough to justify putting down more than an exploring party and a few others. The orders were to be prepared for a long detention below.
At 1.15 p.m. the President (E. E. Roberts) walked the ledge to the gantry to commence the task of clearing up the doubtful points in the exploration of Gaping Ghyll.
With a parting message, “See you on Monday, perhaps,” and starting without a swing, he went down without touching the rock.
Lowden was down early, and was set to mining in the Lower Letterbox on the West Slope, with the tools he had prepared. Here the hard limestone proved very soon tantalizingly intractable.
At half-past three the miners were withdrawn, and the President, Frankland, Lowden, Brown, and Hilton proceeded to the Great Hall in the South Passage, to examine Devenish’s discovery of 1922. An alcove was noticed high up on the west wall, and Frankland, unable to reach it, kept right, got into a bedding plane near the roof, and came down into the alcove (Devenish’s route) whence he managed to get down with assistance. Meanwhile two men kept left of the alcove, entered the bedding plane at another point, came straight ahead to a rift, climbed down 15 feet to the floor, and walked off left, followed by the others. Footprints in the mud showed this was an old route, which is in fact shown on the full survey and has been used as an alternative to climbing the mud bank in the Great Hall.
Reaching the ordinary route of later years, the two light ladders and other burdens were brought along from the Great Hall, the Mud Pot was passed, and the steep slope into the Stream Chamber descended to the stream, which disappears under a gigantic boulder. Horn once crawled along the stream to a hole behind. The hole was found but the connection was not made again.
At the lowest point of the Stream Chamber, opposite the cliff which limits the steep slope of entrance, there was known to be a hole apparently unexplored. Parsons was once lowered into a hole somewhere near, but found no way out. There is also a mysterious sentence on p. 208, Vol. II., Y.R.C.J. – “another way was found leading back into the Stream Chamber by way of the mud pot” – on which no light could be thrown.
The hole referred to was descended by ladder into a large chamber and the party went down thirty or forty feet to its lowest point alongside a wall under which the stream, covered with boulders, could be heard. The water could not be reached at the bottom, but was reached through the boulders at two other points. There is no passage.
The President had hitherto imagined that the hole through which they had come was at the bottom of the Mud Pot, but he was soon convinced by Brown’s appearing at the top that what had been done was simply to explore the Mud Pot, which is separated from the Stream Chamber.
Certain other hopeful places having been drawn blank, return was begun. Following the old route into the rift, two men crawled from the end of it into the alcove (which appears to be a new bit) and roped down into the Great Hall.
The Main Chamber was reached at 8 p.m., with the intention of getting back to the surface as soon as possible, or of putting in more mining at the Lower Letterbox until the hour appointed, 10 p.m., at which the campers were to expect us. The main chamber was decidedly dark and very noisy, there was no reply on the telephone, for we were not expected, and in a very short time the clouds of spray and the appalling roar told us that the heavens had opened above and that we might be in for another Gaping Ghyll Flood. By 9 p.m. there was quite a good second edition of what went on in the magnificent chamber during the adventure of 1909, and we gave up hope of getting out for many hours. The only one who did not seem to like the prospect was the man who had been down in 1909. He had apparently persuaded his friends that it was rather an enjoyable experience and they seemed to be looking forward to it. Anyhow, we were much better fitted out for the night than were people fourteen years before.
No mining was done; we hung about watching and listening and marvelling from various standpoints till the spray filled the chamber; then we retreated into the South Passage. At 10 p.m. came a ring on the telephone, and though at first nothing could be heard, Hilton presently got in touch, and learnt that the rain had stopped. Very soon came the message that the water was falling and that they would get us up that night. Down below the improvement was not noticeable, and this was received with incredulity, but a supply of food with much joy.
Repeated assurances next came down that the ascent should be possible, but the President refused to allow the attempt on account of the darkness until there was a perceptible slackening of the waterfall.
At 10.30 p.m. Frankland risked it, with one of the two electric lights which saved the situation, and was slowly hauled away into the blackness. It was a great relief when the ‘phone announced that he had had a good journey. So excellent is the present lead down the open shaft that only at one stage had he received any weight of water. The guy line was slacked out some feet as directed, and Lowden, of whom these hours are one of our most happy memories, went up next. The awe-inspiring note of the fall changed little, but by the time Brown was starting, the spray and the currents of air had altered sufficiently for the spare man to stand right out in the chamber in sight of the men at the chair without getting very wet. The fourth man reached the top at 12.15 a.m., and Hilton, the last, twenty minutes later. The change in the fortunes of the party as they recalled waiting in the bo’sun’s chair at the bottom, and saw the raging beck held up by the dam, seemed magical.
Sunday opened with rain and flood. The ground got so soft it was necessary to pave the entrance to the catering tent and its neighbourhood with flat stones. The afternoon was better and the dam was repaired when the flood sank. At seven o’clock the camp was wrapped in mist, and dinner was eaten in the tents. For the patience with which Robinson and his assistants faced the discomforts of preparing that breakfast and dinner the Ramblers have the greatest admiration and gratitude.
Monday fortunately allowed of a fair day’s work, though hampered by haste under the uncertain conditions of weather. At 10 a.m. began the descent of a survey party, Horn, Mallinson, Barran junior, and C. E. Burrow. Burrow had run the engine all Saturday, and was replaced by Lowden, who sat by it all Monday and ran it with such brilliant success that in well over 30 runs it only faltered once.
They were followed by Fred Booth, Devenish, Hollis, Richardson, Seaman and Gaunt. The exploring party now turned miners. The eleventh man was down at 12.50, and at three the Lower Letterbox was broken into. A narrow vertical fissure ran magnetic N. for fifty feet and then became excessively narrow. Frankland and Hilton descended fifty feet in the fissure but chock-stones prevented them reaching water.
Meanwhile Devenish and Richardson had been directed to enter the West Chamber and thoroughly investigate the Fireplace Chimney at the far end, as it was the only possible place where the lost passage reported by the Y.S.A. could be. With this information they found the Lost Passage obvious high up and traversed from the Chimney into it. It runs a short distance to the head of a deep canal, 20 feet down. A ledge eight feet above the water can be reached, and the canal is undoubtedly that ending in the Canal Chamber.
While the ascents of the large number below were going forward, the miners moved off to a dangerous looking hole at the foot of the East Slope, a few yards from where the water of the fall disappears into the floor. From the end of a short passage a ladder climb of 35 feet led into the W. end of a chamber 90 feet by 8 feet. There was a steep ascent at the east end, and a choked passage at the west. It was just possible to reach a stream in the latter.
This was a disappointment, but believing this cavern below the level of the Main Chamber to be a new discovery, the mining party, after removing their tackle, stood in a group and gave three cheers. An avalanche of stones from the East Slope immediately fell on to the place where the man holding the life line had sat, and almost covered up the hole.
This was at six p.m., and by nine everything had been sent up and the winding completed. The last man, W. V. Brown, unknotted the guy line and wrapped it round the rail so that it could be released by a pull from above. The engine was bringing him up famously when there was a sharp blast, “Stop,” from below. A pause, and then “Lower.” It was feared that the guy line might have come loose and given him a nasty swing against the wall. Back he went, all the way, and was brought up again slowly by the hand windlass. He had noticed the wire rope and guy line diverging, and found the wire rope had caught over a projection. The only way to release it was to go back and shake it from the bottom.
The Gaping Ghyll expedition of 1924 came in the trying two years when every pot-hole expedition was carried out in the teeth of, or seriously hampered by, heavy rain. Though only a day and a half were available, its success was extraordinarily complete, clearing up all the doubtful points, and leaving a clean sheet for the next explorers. Hastings reports that the East Slope Chamber has been several times descended, although the fact has generally escaped attention or been forgotten.
Most of the men had a wet time, packing up, on Tuesday morning and the four who remained spent a wet afternoon in the tents. Not until they left Clapdale Hall on Wednesday did the weather come out gloriously fine