For the Dive of Your Life

Anniversary Dive

Well, here we are on holiday in the South of France, it’s our anniversary and Martin, has planned a special day. I wake up and lie there eyes still closed thinking about shopping and lunch in Cannes followed by an evening in St Tropez eating seafood, sipping champagne and strolling along a moonlit beach. No chance, we’re going cave diving again …I’m assured it is a very special cave dive.

The day starts well with a stunning drive through the Herault Mountains at maximum altitude of just under 1000m above sea level. The valleys are steep sided gorges with winding roads and hairpin bends clambering their way up and down the slopes and commanding magnificent views of these geological wonders. Half way down one mountain we turn down a small track and pull up in front of a closed gate signposted “Danger of Death – Bridge collapsed 500m”.  Hmmm – should’ve gone shopping…!

“It can’t have collapsed its not that type of bridge”, Martin reassures me as he opens the gate and we drive off along a road with no turning space to “take a look”.  Sure enough when we reach the bridge it hasn’t collapsed…. There has been a fire underneath it and the wooden boards are burnt through, loose and damaged. I wait on the side whilst Martin removes more “Danger de Mort” (danger of death) signs and drives across. Much to my surprise he makes it and I tentatively follow. The path continues clinging to the cliff precariously for a couple of miles until we park on the side of the track in the middle of nowhere. Martin points over the edge to “the path” , which looks like a drop off to me. Anyway, I’m game for a laugh so we load Martin’s rucksack with cylinders and I follow along with the video camera; If I’m going to do something this stupid I may as well have a record of it. We start by climbing down huge limestone rocks for 10m followed by 50m down a steep scree slope. I try hard not to look over the edge as I slip towards it and finally come to rest in a woodland clearing on my bottom. “There it is!” my upright buddy exclaims. I breathe a sigh of relief as I glance in the direction of his extended finger but I can barely see the green dot of the entrance pool still 50m below us… It’s a good job I’m too out of breathe to speak! The rest of the descent involves climbing skills, strength and stamina I don’t possess. As Martin strolls lithely down I cling to rocks, branches and the belief that I will survive. I even manage to leap across a gap in the rock, cliff on one side, death on the other. In fact I feel like I’m just getting the hang of it when we arrive at an emerald pool next to a crystal clear stream bubbling and tumbling over boulders and rocks. It certainly looks inviting but how the hell am I going to get my kit down here? Several hours later I have managed 3 more journeys, laden with nothing heavier than a torch, whilst Martin, skipping up and down with the ease of a mountain goat, has done two journeys for each one of mine, carrying two rebreathers and too many cylinders to even think about. As I stagger into the kitting up area I’m grateful for such a good buddy. The baking sun and biting insects all add to the experience. As we don’t want to be overexerted when we dive we sit down for a picnic and take a cooling plunge into the icy river. Finally, more than five hours later and we’re ready to dive. Patiently sitting on a couple of rocks are two French photographers who have hung about to photograph the Mad English Divers.

Our descent takes us into a massive entrance. The cave resembles a wasp’s nest with stripy limestone around an unfolding funnel. The cave descends steeply for the first 40m from where the green glow of the crystal shaped entrance is still easily visible. More gradually we descend to 50m and them 60m where the bottom levels out apart from a few gentle undulations. The limestone has seams and exposures of other minerals through it that gives the appearance of yellow frills and black lace. The shiny yellow calcite is harder than limestone and because of this it is eroded more slowly and protrudes in small nodules and frills.

Up and over, each turn is a huge spherical area with domed ceiling and sculpted walls. We swoop down into a broad area with a huge bird like limestone formation hovering over a field of calcite mushrooms, dotted with flowery crystals of red garnet. All too soon it is time to turn around. One of the joys of a cave like this is that you get to enjoy the dive all over again on the exit, ascent and throughout much of the deco. In fact the deco affords time to examine the rocks in more detail. My interest in Geology is far greater than my knowledge so each dive leaves me with questions to ask and rocks to identify.  In just 4 hours we’re back out in the beating sun, relaxing for a while and contemplating the task of getting all that kit back UP the mountain. We have planned our dive and surface time to account for exertion during the climb followed by an ascent to altitude during the drive home. 9pm and I’m flat on my back by the van with my face glowing bright red, sweat bursting out of every pore. By the time I’ve recovered enough to speak, Martin has done another two trips and all the kit is up. Now I understand. The Danger of Death signs had nothing to do with the bridge! . “ Was it worth it? “ Martin enquires.  “When are we coming back?” I reply.