Never let go of the guide rope, it’s the golden rule of cave diving. No matter how tricky the dive gets, how clouded the water becomes, or how much you panic, you will be OK as long as you grab hold of the rope to pull you back to the surface. A neon nylon lifeline.
But Martin wanted to go exploratory diving, into caves that contained no guide ropes. This was not a surprise. Martin was never a rule follower, and throughout his life he’d been rewarded for risk taking. From setting up his first business whilst still at college, to scaling and growing nationally, things worked out for Martin. Or they had done, above ground, in the safety of boardrooms and spreadsheets.
Northern Florida is known for its extensive underground cave network. An interconnecting maze, winding to impossibly small narrows and sometimes opening up to voluminous caverns. Some of these underwater chambers are large enough to house a Boeing. Not all of this landscape has been mapped, and much of it remains tantalisingly uncharted.
Old school friends Martin and Jay had been diving throughout this cave network for a number of years. After turning 40, and having reached a level of entrepreneurial success that felt somewhat like he’d “completed” business, Martin longed for a new challenge. For most, the appeal of the sport is not immediately clear, it’s risky, and brings a feeling of intense claustrophobia. Yet these uninhabited worlds contain their own unique beauty. Stalagmites, stalactites and other strange sculptural forms.
The mental and physical challenge of keeping calm in such constrained environments added to the attraction. This was especially true for Martin who prided himself on his ability to keep calm under pressure. And keeping calm is a core skill. If you panic, you will kick up the fine silt that lies on the cave bed, making visibility difficult. Increased heart and breathing rate accelerates gas consumption from the cylinders, reducing the amount of time you have in the water. Maybe Martin had confused his confidence with a natural ability to keep calm. Confused his confidence in pushing boundaries with mastery, taking a risk greater than he could calculate.
“Can you imagine there are places here in Florida that no human has ever been? Places that are less explored than the moon”. Martin was waving the map excitedly, placing it down and circling his finger around an empty north eastern corner where the cave outlines trailed off. Jay knew resistance was unlikely when Martin reached this level of excitement. Still, exploratory cave diving sent shivers down his spine. They were competent cave divers, but always stuck to the pre-mapped routes, with pre-existing guidelines. He fidgeted with his respirator and suggested another day to venture to that part of the caves. That day came and Martin’s charisma and enthusiasm won over. It would be OK, Jay reasoned they would bring down their own spool of rope, he would hold on to this with dear life, he would get back to the surface this way. Like a modern day Theseus, escaping the grasp of a minotaur, they would find their way out with this precious thread. It would be OK.
In the three hour drive towards the caves, Martin lost himself in a day dream, imagining himself etching out a new corner on the map. Almost no one in this century got such an honour, to be the first to view a landscape, the very first human eyes! What setup might he find? winding passways, hidden chambers, maybe even ballroom-esque caverns. He pictured himself describing the dive’s fantastic features to the local news. He could get featured on dive youtube. Maybe he’d name some of the more spectacular spaces after his wife.
Jay pulled him out of his daze with an endless torrent of questions. “Are both your dive lights working?” “Is the dive computer charged?”, “yes, you know we went over this” Martin replied. They had spent the best part of two hours checking their gear when they stopped to get gas.
When they arrived at the entrance to the cave, the water was spectacular. The electric blue of the clear spring water misplaced in its muddy surroundings, shining like an unexpected jewel. They unpacked the equipment off the truck. Jay methodically going over the gear one last time. Reading from the dive plan, which was carefully placed in one of those A4 protective binder sleeves, Jay makes Martin promise that he would not go below 110 feet. Below this the risk of nitrogen narcosis was significant, and that he would not let go of the brand new guide rope Jay had bought. The bright green of the rope blinding in the floridan sun. Martin nodded, despite his taste for adventure, he knew the risks were real. They performed the last stages of the buddy check, aligning gestures in preparation for the soundless world below.
The pair submerged into the water. The cool temperature is a refreshing change from the heat and humidity. They swam through the open cavern, squeezing through a tight gap at the bottom, all traces of natural light disappeared. Surrounded by rock on all four sides For the first 40 minutes of the dive, they passed through known territory, faithfully looping their fingers around the guide rope as protocol indicated. Passing by submerged columns, and intricate stalagmites the dark crystal waters illuminated ultramarine under the headlamps. They reached the spot where the rope stopped.
Martin gave Jay a thumbs up as he tied his green cord tightly to the end of the previously laid out rope. Jay apprehensively signalled back. From now on they would be in uncharted territory, a cold, clammy frontier. Jay looked down at his diving gauge, 90 ft below. They were deep. Martin propelled himself along, picturing himself extending the light of human knowledge with each forward motion, like a piece in his favourite game CivIV, turning the dark of the unknown into the illuminated landscape of human knowledge.
The experience was as thrilling as he hoped, but swimming behind, Jay started to notice a change in Martin’s movement. His normally tight and organised swimming style, started to sway increasingly from side to side. Martin’s head touch started to dart around in an unfamiliar fashion. Landing their focus on far off spots which seemed unrelated to their dive plan. Jay found himself checking and rechecking the dive computer. They continued like this, Martin moving casually ahead, and Jay meticulously following behind.
Suddenly there is a moment, a break in time which cannot be repaired. In the narrow passageway, something startles Martin. He kicks back and forth, clouding the water. Which had been glass clear, becomes a muddy grey soup. Disorientated Jay struggles to identify the problem, when a sharp snapping sensation sends a jolt of fear. Without the ability to see clearly, he is reliant on his other senses. He pulled his hand closer, hoping to feel the reassuringly taught guide line. Instead he’s met with no resistance, and pulling his hand closer, the neon green twine is disconnected and frayed.
Things stop around him. He breathes deeply, the metallic taste of the respirator cementing himself in this disastrous reality. For a second he imagines he’s in a computer simulation and can control alt Z to undo his last steps. Magically gasping for anything else. The cold, dark, murky water consuming everything. He can no longer see Martin, he can no longer see at all.
After being momentarily stunned by the gravity of the situation, his cognition returns. Pulling his equipment close, he checks his dive metrics. 100ft down. That’s deep. 90 minutes of gas left, it’s enough if he chooses carefully. His mind traces back their entry to the cave, mapping every small detail he could, trying to find anything of note. Leaning left he found the edge of the passage. For all their detailed dive plans, without the rope or visibility, he’s left with his gut and rough memories to get out. Toss a coin, fifty fifty, choose a direction and pray.
Jay was lucky, he traced the cave wall left and slowly the silt dissipated. He could make out a familiar route, with the original red guidelines. If he followed it, it would take him back to safety.
The breathing rate on his dive computer steaded, but a quieter, colder fear sunk in. Where was Martin? Scanning the cave there was no sign of him. Behind him just a featureless wall of opaque water.
A choice he never wanted to make presented itself in front of him. Make his way back to safety, or search for his friend? Checking his gauge, 75 minutes of dive time. That gave him 15 mins spare, but a more limiting factor was the lack of rope. Leading the exploration, Martin had been in charge of spooling out the new rope. Hand tethered to the old red rope, feeling his way slowly back towards the silted clouds. Jay felt the lump in the chord where Martin must have tied on the new rope. Pausing for a second to check it was secure, Jay decided to follow the rope as far as possible to search for his friend.
That possibility was limited, shortly after deciding to re-enter the cloud of silt, Jay felt the cord limp and its frayed edges. A feeling of dread arose inside of him, he’d have to return to the surface alone.
The professional rescue dive team kicked in to gear almost instantaneously upon receiving Jay’s call. With many divers, and many caves, the floridian rescuers were renowned in their ability to act calmly when under great pressure. Searching for Martin was one of those days. Briefed to the best of his abilities by Jay, a twin dive team descended into the cave system the second time that day. Time was crucial, and with every second the rescue was becoming more perilous. If Martin had stayed in the lower depths he would have already run out of air. Breathing at lower altitudes requires greater pressure and consumes gases more quickly. If Martin was able to reach a higher level in the cave, his oxygen would last longer, and there was some chance he could still be found. The rescue divers had seen it all, but even they bulked at the thought of a body recovery.
They swam deeper, hoping to find him in a crevice in the upper cave. The lower they got, the less they thought about finding him. The silt in the passage had begun to settle, their touches shining through the semi opaque water, larger chunks of debris hanging in the water like dull glitter. A strange rock formation appeared, a twisted shape, half bull, half person. In front of this lay a strand of rope, snapped and frayed. The rock was unusual, but could it have been enough, in the grips of nitrogen narcosis to trigger panic?
They squeeze over the rock formation and break out into a larger opening. On the cave bed the string twists round, finally connecting to the circular spool. The dive gauge reads 120 ft below sea level. Too deep for oxygen to remain in his cylinders. The rescue team slow their breathing, so as to not meet the same fate.
Having done the oxygen calculations in their head, the recovery took on a more solemn and methodical pace. Carefully they pan their lights across the cave walls. Half hoping, half dreading to find him. Then one stray lamp angles up. Above was an iridescent shimmer. Air, this must be an air pocket! Martin had been thrown a lifeline. The dive pair made their way up, and with deep unexpected relief they found him. Martin was clinging on to a rock for support, cold and shivering. Martin lets out a high pitched holler. Ecstatic high fives are exchanged.
His oxygen was depleted. He was just metres from the snapped chord rock formation, but he was, as wanted, in an unmapped territory. The first human to ever breathe the air in this trapped pocket. The rescue divers would not be the pioneers, but they carefully guided Martin out of the cave, skillfully passing their respirator between themselves and the trembling businessman. Buddy breathing until he reached dry land.
On the surface the flash of the local news crew was present. Martin sat away from the camera, still catching his breath, embracing his wife with tears in his eyes. Wrapped in a foil blanket, he felt deep gratitude for life, unsteady for knowing how much he risked. Was it the rock that startled him, or his own relentless drive? At what point did the pursuit turn into rescue?
“After the third near death dive this year, we can no longer keep these caves open, the risk to the public is too great, from today we are closing them”, said the voice of a local policeman to the news anchor. Martin and his duo of rescuers are the final divers to emerge from this cave. Jay sighed as he continued to pack away the rest of the gear, and placed the dive plan back in his ringbinder, a memento to their failed exploration.
