The Gouffre Berger

by Glyn Edwards

Peter Watkinson of Nottingham, a veteran of the Berger, and Etienne Lemaire from Belgium organised the trip very efficiently. The Belgians supplied the rope (9 mm. perlon) and the British the ladder.

The teams met on the scenic Sornin plateau along with a French team who wanted to join in. Lemaire and his ‘pirates’ had been established in camp for a week and had laddered the cave as far as camp II. They intended to bottom the pot without the help of an underground camp—hard men indeed. The British sensibly used camp I, near to the “Hall of Thirteen”, from which to strike for the bottom.

Peter Watkinson, Rod Mumford, David Jack, Alan Gamble, Dave Sinclair and another descended the cave at ten o’clock one fine sunny morning. I followed them down a few hours later with two friends (John Harper and Eric Inson) who, wearing shorts, only wanted to have a quick look at the “Hall of Thirteen”. The weather forecast was very favourable, which lightened our hearts and we descended in good spirits.

Abseiling the pitches “Aldo’s shaft” was soon reached, which is the last pitch in the entrance series and 180 ft. deep. There we met members of the Pegasus Club who were supposed to be backing up Peter Watkinson. They were lowering down their personal bags: unfortunately one of them fell about 20 ft. and badly damaged his hand. I continued to the camp alone as Harper and Inson organised the Pegasus and effected a rescue.

Apart from the ice and the biting cold at the entrance and in Cairn Hall the initial part of the cave is very much like a typical Yorkshire classic with shafts conneoted by narrow meandering rift passages but fortunately dry. The pitches are: (1) Ruiz shaft, 90 ft., (2) Holliday, 25 ft., (3) Cairn Hall, 100 ft., (4) Garby’s, 130 ft., (5) Gontards, 100 ft., (6) the Relay’s, 3 x 25 ft., and then Aldo’s.

From Aldo’s a very small winding passage breaks out into the immense “Great Gallery”, large enough for two double decker buses to pass. At the “Bourgin Hall” a bit of clever route finding was required as Lake Cadoux had vanished. A boat and slippery mud indicated where it was in normal weather. A steep mud slope led to the top of the “Little General Cascade”, which was still very sporting despite the dry conditions. A traverse at the top of the “Cascade of the Tyrolienne” avoided a deep pool at its foot. From here the stream disappeared under the boulders of the “Big Rubble Heap”. The rays of my glimmering carbide lamp dissolved in the darkness. Luckily a sort of footpath led through, over or around the boulders, some as big as the Bowder Stone. Dropping down this steep path gave me a more vivid impression of depth than did abseiling the pitches. In the distant depths glimmers of light showed Camp I and my companions.

Over a brew of tea I learned that a delay at Camp I was inevitable as the French who were laddering the final pitches were not expected to have finished. Just as we were settling down to sleep, clankings and rumblings disturbed our peace. Harvey Lomas had arrived on a visit with his steel-toed boots. John Whalley and Mike Jenkins were his companions. We heard exclamations of wonder and amazement as they visited the magnificent “Hall of Thirteen” not fifty yards away. A second French team arrived and settled down for a short sleep before they made for the lower reaches.

As the second French team did not disturb our rest when they set off, we were awoken at the optimum time by the first French team returning. After a huge meal we also followed the path towards the bottom. Beyond the “Hall of Thirteen” was the “Germain Hall” which contained many gours and flowstone climbs. To the 50 ft. “Balcony Shaft” the cavern is a glittering fairyland. At the bottom of the “Balcony” the river is again met for a while. Leaving the river again at “The enormous cascade” a traverse up and right is made. Here the returning second French team were met emerging from another glistening world of flowstone. The route lay up cascades of frozen stone until a descent at the “Cloakroom Pitch” led back to the river. The wet half of the cave begins at the aptly named “Cloakroom”. A long chest-deep canal ensues with traverses or a swim over deep sections: a beautiful clean washed passage. Two sporting 25 ft. cascades marked the end of the canal. “Claudine’s Cascade” was now a reality and no longer the pitch of dreams. This surely must be one of the finest pitches in the world. The ladder hangs from the end of a 6 ft. length of scaffold pole to avoid most of the water. The landing pool is waist deep and almost completely fills the chamber. Much excited by the widening of the passage and by the increase in height the river was followed. The next traverse and cascade was “Topographers” and after this the titanic proportions of the “Big Rubble Heap” were again encountered, but I think the “Great Canyon” is more impressive. The route down this lies on the right hand wall, following a steeply descending traverse with nothing to be seen on the left but an awesome blackness. At the bottom of this “Great Canyon” lies Camp two (no longer used) and “Gache’s shaft”, a dry pitch of 60 ft. At the bottom of “Gache’s” the river is again met and soon cascades over the next pitch, the “Grand Cascade”. There one descends the top half of the pitch diagonally leftwards to a piton to avoid most of the water. In point of fact nearly all the cascade pitches had elaborate traverses of some kind to avoid the main force of the fall for obvious reasons.

Following a large passage bestrewn with boulders, now one thousand metres down, a drystone wall is seen in a corner. This was built by members of a previous British expedition in an attempt to keep warm while trapped by high water: a grim reminder of what the Berger is like in less clement weather.

Just before “Monkey Shaft” is one of the only crawls in the cave, but it is short. Then the acrobatics start, the water descends in a series of cascades and pools. To avoid these there is a bolted traverse on the right hand wall. The ladder hangs from the last bolt and descends 70 ft. to where a dry ox-bow passage is situated in the opposite wall. The water plunges down dramatically on its way to the bottom of “Hurricane Shaft”. Swinging across to the ox-bow passage is hair-raising but much easier if abseiled. In the ox-bow a calcited drop leads to a ledge at the top of “Hurricane”. This shaft seems much deeper than 180 ft.: it was like abseiling Malham Cove in a thunderstorm. At the bottom, and in a sheltered alcove, we lunched on fudge, chocolate and cigarettes. In the immensity of this airy hall we felt very small and extremely lucky to be there, as if we were trespassing in one of nature’s more exclusive reserves. Continuing from boulder to boulder down a passage 30 ft. wide and of immeasurable height, good progress was made. A large inlet entered on the right, very impressive and previously explored. A few small drops were encountered and the roof came into sight; closing down, rapidly—the canals, reputed to be the grimmest part of the cave. Reluctantly entering the very cold and deep water progress was painful. Swim a few yards, cling to the wall and regain breath, swim again, eventually reaching the siphon at a depth of 3,650 ft. Shivering with cold, little time was wasted at the siphon as the return swim was ‘gotten over with’.

As all the pitches were equipped with only single lines, climbing up them necessitated the use of a ‘clogger’ as a self-life-lining device. This method is very efficient as the amount of rope used is halved, and the time spent throwing down the life-line is reduced. The clogger, attached to the waistline by a short sling is towed up the rope without effort.

At the top of “Hurricane” the warming effect of the ladder climb overcame our numbness. De-laddering was not necessary as Etienne Lemaire was due down next and his team planned to detackle back to Camp II or further. Our task was to continue the work after resting at Camp I by de-tackling back to Camp I or further. The return up “Monkey” was enjoyed but unfortunately a “clogger” was lost to the depths. With no tackle to carry the obstacles were overcome with much pleasure, including acrobatics at cascade pools to avoid a dousing. Great delight was experienced in climbing the “Grand Cascade” by sense of touch.

At the “Cloakroom” we met the Belgian team on their way to the bottom. Wishing them ‘Bon chance’ we returned to our comfortable Camp I. Devouring a huge meal of steak and much tea we retired and slept well. The returning Belgians awoke us some twelve hours later. They had done well: the tackle was at the top of the “Grand Canyon” awaiting us. The Belgians were very tired, but they all made the surface, Lemaire doing the round trip in 18 hours!

Donning our wet gear was no fun, but we were soon on our way to the tackle and reached it with little effort. No snags were encountered on the way out, even “Claudine’s Cascade” offered little resistance, and within eight hours we were back at Camp I. There we decided to eat as much of the food as we could and strike camp. With an overloaded packframe and 100 ft. of ladder each the path up the “Rubble Heap” was steep and exhausting. The obstacles were slowly taken in turn, the “Tyrolienne”, “The Little General”, the climbs and the steep mud slope up the Great Gallery. It was hard work with many rests before “Aldo’s” was reached. Here the tackle was left and we continued with just our personal gear, a kitbag each. Slowly we pulled these and ourselves up the pitches. At “Ruiz” we were shattered, but managed to extract ourselves and emerged to a beautifully hallucinating dawn over the Alps.