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Sump Diving – A rookie’s initiation
My first trip into Snail Shell
Shirley Kasser, with excerpts from Brian Williams
Photographs by
Brian Williams, Mark Wenner, and Skip Kendrick
Click here for trip photos
It all started so innocently, with this post by Marbry Hardin on the Cave
Diver’s Forum:
"I'm going to plan on a trip
to push the upstream sump in Snail Shell (water level permitting) on Saturday
1/19/2008. Meet at the Shoneys on S. Church St. around ~7:30 AM to eat (if you
want to), leave there by 8:30 AM to be at the cave by 9:00 AM. So if anyone is
interested and can make that date, just reply here and we'll start to get
things lined up."
During a dive trip to Tennessee
last spring, Marbry, Tom Johnson, and Mike Millspaugh took me to Snail Shell. We
didn’t explore it that day, but clambering down into the deep sink to the stream
below, I was hooked. This place is the epitome of peacefulness. The sheer gray
rock walls enhance the green of the flora contained in the sink. The stream
exits the upstream section underneath a waterfall, meanders picturesquely across
stones rounded off by the steady flow, and disappears into the intriguing
downstream opening. I had to see what lay beyond. And now, here is my chance.
The Trip - 01/19/2008
After weeks of waiting, the time is here. I’ve asked tons of questions of the
ever patient Forrest Wilson, Marbry, and Mark Wenner. After many phone calls and
emails, and some loaner gear, my shopping list has been created, and the items
have all been checked off. Shopping for hiking boots that fit into my fins was
great fun, and caused several second glances from my fellow shoppers.
A ten hour drive seems like a small price to pay for the adventure of a
lifetime, so I strike out for Tennessee. My long-awaited trip back here to
explore Snail Shell is finally underway. After spending the day “breaking in” my
new hiking boots at Buggy Top Cave, I am finally here. Arriving in Murfreesboro,
the weather is gorgeous. The mountains are endlessly fascinating. We just don’t
see a lot of that terrain in Florida, and I cannot get enough. I’m sure I’m
gawking, but I AM a tourist here, after all.
Planning Session
The team meets up at Skip Kendrick’s house on Friday night for a planning
session. Marbry and I are the first to arrive, but are soon joined by Jason and
Chrissy Richards. They are closely followed by most of the rest of the team.
Mike is here for moral support, but he’s headed off to a race tomorrow and will
miss the fun. Brian Williams arrives from snowy Virginia. Matt Vinzant is here,
having also made the trek from Florida. A team of three sherpas from UGA,
Jessica Watkins, Charlie Gwyn, and Will Urbanksi, have also arrived. We’re all
very glad to see them!
After introductions and some catching up, it’s down to business. I knew this was
a serious expedition, and now I am getting to see first hand just how much
logistical planning is involved. Jason has been studying, and has an ambitious
plan in mind. We are going to put more divers through the sump than has ever
been done. This requires transporting enough gear for all of the divers almost
two miles into the cave. The first half mile is a swim. After that, the cave
continues with water levels ranging from ankle deep to ten feet or more. Our
sherpas are going to be crucial to the success of this plan. Jason uses the
white board to sketch out the cave and list the team members and their duties.
Marbry describes the cave and the location of Sump 1, as well as the possible
location of Sump 2.
Chrissy heads off to Wal-Mart in search of some much needed inflatables. Skip
and I are appointed to the survey team, and Jason relishes the challenge of
teaching us the tricks of the trade. With the patience of a saint, he shows us
how to use his Tandem Compass/Clinometers. These are carefully housed in a
state-of-the-art protection system, aka Hanes socks. These small devices look
deviously simple to master. They are not. I believe Marbry is snickering as he
snaps photos with his cell phone. We do discover that a metal-filled kitchen is
not a good place to practice. After properly surveying Skip’s house, we call it
a night.
The Big Day Begins
Saturday morning greets us with a cold shoulder. It’s 24F outside, and that’s
the high for the day. I haven’t been allowed to see the secret rule book yet,
but I am quite confident based on reading previous trip reports that a trip to
Shoney’s for breakfast is mandatory prior to all expeditions into Snail Shell.
After that mandatory stop, the team heads to the cave.
The parking lot quickly fills up as the team members arrive. Jason sets up the
compressor to top off the tanks. Tanks are rigged up, bagged, counted, and
distributed. Packing lightly is crucial. Various methods are employed to ensure
everything floats. Among the pile, we have inflatable boats, boogie boards, fun
noodles, and reclaimed wet suit pieces. This group is definitely resourceful.
This is not their first rodeo. I am amazed, and a bit overwhelmed. Despite the
large size of the group and all of the details that have to be handled, things
move along smoothly. Soon, everyone is geared up and posing for the group photo.
Skip has had to head back to town and won’t get to make the trip. This later
becomes something we are all very thankful for, even though we missed Skip being
with us in the cave.
Down We Go
At 11:00 am, ten team members, four AL40’s, six AL30’s, a video camera, various
inflatables, a boogie board, and twenty fins begin the descent. Nine team
members have no problem negotiating one of the two trails down. One team member,
me, picks her way down ever so slowly, as if each step might lead to a sudden
and swift fall straight to the bottom of the eighty-foot stone wall that
surrounds the basin. A fear of falling and this particular sport make for an
interesting combination.
The sight is breath-taking. The beauty of this place is unmatched. The deep
greens of the flora fill the basin. The upstream cave mouth is curtained by a
beautiful waterfall. A stream flows over lichen-covered rocks into the mammoth
downstream opening. Here, the rock forms a huge, open room where one can be
completely sheltered from the outside, while still not quite being in the cave
yet. The music of the waterfall is the sound-track for this amazing scene.
Keith has to head back up for a missing backup light and will join us inside. We
don our fins and begin the swim. Mark gave me some great advice, and I gladly
take it. Floating on my back, I look up into the beautiful cave and imagine I’m
cave diving, in crystal clear water. Soon, the image takes hold and I am diving.
Reality intrudes periodically, as my legs remind me that they are not used to
wearing hiking boots under my fins, and that these darn things are getting
heavy. I am quickly back to sight-seeing though, and what a sight it is! The
ceiling appears to have been coated by glitter. The walls seem to have been
painted black and brown in places. Hard rock alternates with soft clay. I am in
a dry cave, finally. A “dry” cave, I learn, is not necessarily dry.
The group spreads out along the stream, like a leisurely tubing trip. Of course,
on a tubing trip, we would probably be floating downstream, hauling a cooler of
beer instead of tanks, and there’d be sunshine. Instead, I am overwhelmed by the
dark. In all of the pictures, the cave is lit up, by strobes of course. Here,
the only lit areas are those within our lights’ circles. The feeling of
peacefulness this darkness brings is enhanced by the sound of the water and the
various voices as team members chat along the way. I am falling in love.
We reach the first breakdown, and our tubing trip is at an end. We’ll walk the
rest of the way. Again, we are all very thankful for our wonderful sherpas. I am
slow moving, a combination of gawking tourist and not-a-spring-chicken. I have
never seen so many beautiful things at once. Each formation is unique and a work
of art. Each step is an adventure. Sometimes, we walk for a ways in ankle deep
water over a sand bed. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere comes a deep hole or
shin-dinger. Some require crawling over, others a brief swim, and a few just
call for a quick curse word.
Upon reaching the flowstone I’ve heard so much about, I wonder why no one
mentioned that this was the end of the line. It appears to take up the entire
passage. Without missing a beat, Marbry drops to his belly ahead of me and
wiggles through a tiny, low passage filled with dark stalagmites, looking like
so many inverted cypress knees. Working to make sure I keep my face above the
water and my helmet out of the formations, I follow suit. The rush I feel when I
emerge on the other side is unforgettable. The flowstone is just as beautiful on
this side. I begin to understand why we are here.
The Waterfall
After quite a bit more walking, trudging, shin-dingers, and break-down
clambering, I begin to hear the unmistakable sound of a large waterfall. Marbry
gives me some quick advice on traversing it before we get any closer, as the
sound of the waterfall takes over the cave. The description does not do it
justice. A tall, narrow ravine is channeling the entire stream through a small
opening. The force of this water is incredible. It is at this point that I
question my ability to make it any further. Marbry demonstrates the climb up,
and then begins videoing. Brian is in front of me and Keith behind me, both
offering hands, advice, and encouragement. I suppose everyone reaches a point in
their life where they have to decide to stay or move forward. This was it for
me. My first attempt took my breath away as I slipped backwards and got dunked
by the pressure of the water. Keith was right there when I surfaced, either to
encourage me or just to keep me from running away, I’m not sure.
An image of my nice comfy sofa, a movie playing, a bowl of popcorn on my lap,
and a cold beer beside me came into my mind. Why was I here? Then I looked at
the waterfall and remembered. I am here because it is here. And I want to see
what lies beyond it. So I push forward. Keith pushes, Brian pulls, I grunt and
curse, but I make it up. Of course, that’s not the end. I still have to
“chimney” up the ravine a bit and then climb up onto a plateau where everyone is
waiting. Finally, I collapse into a pile amid the rest of the team. Most of the
lights are off, and there’s very little sound except for the waterfall. We are
all in need of a bit of a break. The peacefulness here, combined with the
exhilaration of accomplishment and anticipation of more adventure, is
incredible.
The Sump
It is not far now to the beach and the first sump. Five hours into the trip, and
we are here. Brian has brought along a stove and hot drinks for the sherpas.
They have a long wait ahead. Marbry is going to keep them entertained with an
excavation project. There is a chance that a little digging may yield an
alternate route around the sump.
The divers gear up in phases. Brian heads through the sump first. He has been
here before and can clear up any questionable line issues. Jason follows,
shuttling the remaining divers in one by one. Mark and Matt are next through the
sump. Now, it’s my turn. Nearly a year after learning what a sump diver was, I
become one. Jason sends me ahead of him through the sump. It’s only 70’ long,
but it’s huge for me. I count the knots in the line as I pass through. They end
much too quickly and I’m surfacing. On the other side, I doff my gear for
Chrissy to use, and Jason heads back to bring her over. Brian, Matt, and Mark
are chilling on a beach head without a care in the world.
The Survey
With all six divers through the sump, Brian, Matt, and Mark strike out for the
second sump. Jason, Chrissy, and I begin surveying from the tie-off at the first
sump. We surveyed approximately 1165’ to a known survey station. Jason and
Chrissy are experienced surveyors, and it shows. They are also an excellent team
and great teachers. Their patience while I got the hang of the routine was
amazing. Pretty soon, we were clicking right along, though. One station would
find me tucked up into a clay crevice, hanging on by a boot toe, and then
another would have me lying flat out across the rock, stretching to keep my
flashlight far enough away from the compass. Chrissy was able to locate great
stations, for both site directions. No one can call her a stick-in-the-mud, but
some of her stations do fit the bill. Jason’s sketching was awesome. Using our
numbers, and his talent, he was able to render an amazing likeness of what we
were seeing.
The Quest for Sump Two
As we were nearing the final station, Mark joins us and gives us an update on
his team’s success. Here I’ll quote directly from Brian’s trip report:
“Team two (Brian Williams, Matt Vinzant and Mark Wenner) pushed the upstream
through low air space and into another 800 feet of swimming passage that is
starting to get bigger again. About 3000 feet upstream from sump one, there is
an intersection where two surface streams enter the system from opposite
directions. One of these passages pinches out after about 70 feet. The other one
is tight but continues and has only been explored for about 100 feet. Beyond
this infeeder intersection lies another 800 feet of surveyed passage. This is
where the low airspace was encountered on the last survey trip and this was the
objective of team two. Swimming upstream to this point, the ceiling comes down
to about 6 inches above the water. There were hundreds of cave midges flying
around and I think we all inhaled quite a few from the coughing going on.
Swimming around in this low passage, Mark and Matt helped me gear up with our
one set of tanks to push through the 'near sump' and establish a guideline for
further survey. I tied off and headed up to the lowest point at which I
submerged and set a slit screw on the bottom at 12 feet deep. Before submerging
I could see that the passage opened up again not too far ahead so I swam
underwater for 25 feet and surface in passage with about 12 inches of air space.
It quickly opened to several feet high and the passage width was about 20 feet.
I put in about 800 ft of line from the other side of the near sump, stopped in
going passage when I ran out of line and surveyed it back out. All of this is
surface swim. About 200 feet downstream of the low air space I encountered Matt
swimming to me. He was getting cold treading water and waiting on me so he
managed to 'suck spiders' off the ceiling and squeeze through the low air to
join me on the up side. This would not be possible if the water rose 2 more
inches!
The new exploration was all swimming after the near sump. The ceiling had some
neat domes in it like downstream and averaged between 10 and 12 feet above
water, a couple of places may have been 15 feet high. It probably floods most of
the passage at times of high water as the ceiling was wet and crumbly except for
the dome rooms. The last 100 feet was starting to curve more. The tie-off was in
a dome room that was roughly 20 x 20 and 12 feet high, water depth of about 8
feet”
Back to the Beach
We hauled all the gear back to the first sump and prepared to head back through.
It has been almost five hours since we left the sherpas on the other side of the
sump. Jason and Chrissy headed through first. Matt followed, taking the
deflated, and very important, raft. I was next through. The line had come
somewhat loose, so I backed up and let the expert handle it. Brian was coming in
behind me, and I knew that he knew the route and would be able to straighten out
the line situation much more quickly than I could. After he and Mark went
through, I followed the line out, and right into Brian’s gloved hand, reaching
to pull me out of the final restriction. We did it! We put six divers through
the sump, completed the survey goal, and found out that the cave keeps going and
going! And, thankfully, the sherpas were still there!
The hero sherpas were cold and tired. Marbry has kept them entertained with
songs and digging, no doubt, but they’re still glad to see us. It’s time to go.
The trip out seems longer. I am tired, but exhilarated. I am again being a
slow-moving tourist, awed by the beautiful cave we are exploring. I am nervous,
too. My nemesis, the waterfall, is still ahead.
After about half of the team skitters down the ravine and off the waterfall at
the end as easily as if playing hopscotch on the playground, it is my turn.
Brian moves ahead of me and gives me step-by-step steps. I put my feet where he
puts his feet, and put my hands where he puts his hands. Before I know it, I’m
“chimneying” my way through the ravine and out the waterfall chute. I have a
“Hell Yeah!” moment and we move forward, out of the way. Marbry and Mark are
still behind us, and they, like the others, make it look like child’s play.
Brian, unfortunately, has sacrificed a fin to the cave while helping me down.
Marbry feels around in the basin and comes up with a fin! “That’s not my fin,”
Brian says. We’re all a bit surprised. Apparently, Mark’s fin had also made a
dash for it. More sweeps of the basin return no more fins. Brian will be
swimming out on one fin.
“Let’s get outta Dodge”
With this statement, Marbry puts it best, and we head downstream toward the
entrance. Again, I am amazed by our ability to slip underneath the giant
flowstone. I could have stood and gawked at it for days, but my buddies have
already been extremely patient with my slow pace. Now isn’t the time to find
their limit!
 As
we begin the final swim, the chatter dies out. We are all tired. The forecasted
low is 14F. We all know we are in for a cold climb out of the basin. Our body
temperatures have dropped from being in the chilly cave for so long. Marbry,
Brian, Mark, and I are the last ones out of the cave. I can feel the temperature
dropping as we near the entrance. The waterfall is now icicles. The stream-bed
stones are covered in ice, and everything looks slippery. Now is not the time
for an accident. Everyone has pushed themselves to their limits already. The
climb ahead has me nervous. I am muttering, but trying to keep the whining
mostly to myself. I picture slick ice coating the face of the rock wall.
Instead, we find that our gloved hands stick to the rocks on contact. The cold
is so intense, we are freezing to the surface. The climb up is easier than I
pictured. It helped, of course, that the others were hauling most of the gear. I
am still extremely relieved to reach the top. The trip out has only taken three
hours.
Walking back, we are all silently hoping for the sounds of a crackling fire. My
car keys are entombed inside my frozen dive pouch. My fingers are beginning to
solidify. My toes have long since gone numb. In the distance, we see the parking
lot. Alas, no fire to be seen. We’re quiet, except for my periodic whimpering.
Then, I see it. A light is glowing from inside a blue tent. Chrissy greets us,
looking all warm and dry, and directs us to the tent. Skip and Mike had come by
earlier and set up a tent, complete with heater and hot chicken soup. I love
those two men! After my bag thawed enough to remove my keys, Chrissy went to
start my car so it could be warming. She’s a saint.
Finally, we’ve all thawed boot laces, doffed frozen wet suits, and enjoyed a cup
of hot soup. We elect Skip and Mike the MVP’s of this trip. Folks start heading
out, Jason and Chrissy head to Skip’s. Mark, Marbry, Matt, Brian, and I head to
IHOP. If now isn’t the time to forget about dieting and enjoy a chicken-fried
steak with gravy, I don’t know when is!
This trip was an undeniable success. The organization and leadership of Marbry
and Jason, without a doubt, “made it happen.” The experience and hard work of
Chrissy, Brian, Mark, and Matt made it a success. The amazing dedication of the
sherpas made it possible. Brian summed it up best, “The good news is the passage
keeps going with no end in sight....the bad news is the passage keeps going with
no end in sight!”
My first sump dive, my first dry cave expedition, and my first attempt at
surveying, all added up to the hardest day of my life, and one of the most
rewarding I’ve ever experienced. The only thing I can compare it to is
childbirth. Never ask a woman during childbirth if she wants another child. You
DO NOT want to hear the answer. Asking me during this trip if I would ever do it
again would have probably met with a similar response. Now, a few days removed
from the frozen fingers and aching muscles, I have to admit, I’m hooked.
Hopelessly, and undeniably hooked. Next trip?
Click here for trip photos
Shirley Kasser
01/22/2008
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