To the Bat Cave

My ex wife, in common with most women, could tolerate hot water in a bath that would cook a lobster, that is just one of the differences between the sexes that I have discovered as fumble my way though life. It is strange the thoughts that enter my head, especially as I gingerly lowered myself in to a nice relaxing hot bath today. At the time I used to joke that my ex must have an insurance policy on my life and was just trying to cook me. Latter I discovered that she did have life insurance for me. Well today I was placed in a situation where that policy could have paid out. Don't worry I am safe, but very shaken by the experience.

As my regular reader may remember, I made contact with a chap who works for the local water company. He is also involved with an archaeological group. Well he was interested in cheep ways of doing some aerial photography. Because of a posting on a Web log, I suggested using helium balloons after reading of a chap that had flow across parts of America in a lawn chair using helium filled balloons All that was needed was a good platform for the video camera and a tether. And apparently it worked for them. Not always steady, but its so low cost they can keep going back to get the shots they need.

However on the last run they hooked the tether to a tree and damaged the camera they were using. So I was asked if they could borrow mine. I agreed but for this task they were not looking to float the camera but to lower it and the operator down a crag to a small cave that had got them interested.

While they were interested in the Archaeology, I was interested in the natural history. And it was as much for my skills here that they wanted my help. Now I was quite happy to review the film for them as I don't do dropping over cliff sides on ropes. Well I didn't until today.

The other reason they wanted to use my video camera was its Infra red capabilities. But even filming in IR requires a light source and I also have two Infra Red lights. The chap who went down first on the harness lines and climbing gear, again borrowed, brought back footage that made it look like he was preparing a Martini for James Bond. So reluctantly after two others tried and failed, one had forgotten to press record, I agreed to try and do the filming myself. The harness was not comfortable and I am sure I talking half an octave higher as I went over the edge and down to the small cave.

I took it very slowly and once at the entrance to the cave, this was half a meter high and about a meter wide, I braced myself leaning back my feet on the rocks and filmed the entrance. I could see that there had probably been bats in there and at the back was another chamber about a meter and a half back from the entrance. I could see why they were interested in the cave as there was a piece of broken pottery hidden in the gloom there. I called up about what I had seen and asked if they wanted me to get inside. This they affirmed and I had to climb back up a little to access the cave. I was feeling quite fine about all this, I had the line that I was using, the one taking my weight as well as a safety line. Also one of the other men who had been down is a good three stones heavier than me.

I climbed into the cavern, and had a good look around and the place is a summer bat roost at the back but but I could not determine if it was a winter roost too. The pottery I think was modern though, I think the words dishwasher safe was the clue for me, but I am no archaeologist.

Well my main line was still attached but to get out of the cave I had to use the safety line as the main line had been allowed to catch on the rocks. The safety man was not doing his job. I let the safety line take my weight and dropped six feet. As well as now talking three octaves higher the safety line had snapped. I genuinely had tears in my eyes. I hung there painting the sky blue, as I was told not to try and climb down. I dropping the line I was on had severally frayed on the sharp rocks. Anyway I was advised to try and get to a tree that was growing out of the rock face, to let that take my weight. It couldn't.

I did finally get down after nearly three hours as one of the men had to drive a round trip of over a hundred miles to get other ropes. The ropes that had been brought, it turned out, were ones destined for the rubbish as they had failed the safety checks by the centre they were borrowed from. The centre manager from that outdoor centre came too and helped me down. He effectively read the guy who had borrowed the equipment the riot act as he had been loaned the equipment on the understanding that some else, who was qualified and competent, was there to supervise. The most experienced had only done a weekend course himself and he was not even acting as safety officer.

I even got it in the neck myself, but he apologised when I told him that I did not know that the others were so inexperienced. I also got apologies from the others too. But I got the film they wanted. I however am suffering from chaffing. For reasons that are obvious the harness around a moist crotch does chaff a bit.

I had hoped that I would have a picture to add to this posting but I have not been sent the pictures I was promised, maybe latter.

But I think that I will try something much safer next time, Skiing? White water rafting? Or just trying to go drinking in Newcastle on a Friday night? All far more safe than my activities today.