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Date: Sun, 26 Jul 1998 10:52:15 -0400
From: "Katherine V. Irvine" <kirvine@sa*.ne*>
Organization: DIR
To: cavers@ca*.co*
CC: techdiver <techdiver@aquanaut.com>, jbentley@cr*.co*,
     freeattic@co*.ci*.uf*.ed*
Subject: Diving to 18 GRAND
******Jeff - please add this to the website

                         DIVING T0 18 GRAND

    Many times I go down to Ft Lauderdale beach intending to swim 10,000
meters - the length of the beach and back. I have only made it twice.
5,000 is my normal workout, and I have done plenty of 6, 7, 8, and 9,000
meter swims, but 10 just does not come off so easily. 

    There are problems. The Man 'O War's, box jellies, and other
stingers, the weather, the current, the fear of  the tigers, the
spookyness of being alone, the dehydration, the depletion of potassium
and glycogen, and the humiliation of trying to swim with Russians and
kids who feel no pain, have no fear, and keep the hammer down.

     It is the same in cave exploration. You show up ready to play, but
there is so much that needs to go right in order to pull it off. Parker
always said , "you will never find any cave unless you have the True
Heart". He mentioned some people to whom this applied ( applies) so I
would understand. Bill Gavin had a red heart with the word "TRUE" on his
scooter. Bill Gavin and I always found cave where there had previosly
been none. It always just "appeared" for us, not matter where we dove.
We even added line at Ginnie.

     The same thing happened Friday. To tell you the truth, I was scared
that Wakulla Springs cave was going to wall out at 14+ in the big
conduit ( the other 14 did wall out) . We had hit a giant room that
contained an amazing optical illusion making it look like the tunnel
stopped, and we had opted for a tiny offshoot to get around it, and the
current had been so bad in there that it stopped us dead coming out.
Pulling on the rocks at 295 while 14 thousand feet out is not too cool.
I was afraid it was a sinkhole coming up that not only would be too
shallow, but that I knew from the surface was blocked completely. This
would have told us nothing about the cave, and would explain nothing.
That means it could not be right.

   We discussed it. I threw out the optical illusion posiblility to JJ
and Brent. Brent said he swerved over there but saw nothing. I told him
that behind him I could not see the ending wall. JJ said he did not see
it either, but then the back guy always has the best view. The tunnel we
had taken seemed to open a bit, but not knowing the tide , that tube
represented a major risk. I had been in Spring Creek and knew exactly
how bad it can really get when tide and rain go against you.

   We had several options. We could go to the "G's Little Tunnel", an
open lead  way out there, but we all agreed that this should connect to
our last tunnel. We could go to the other 14 grand end to the west of
Cherokee and see if we missed something, but none of us had marked any
sure thing leads in there. The main end still had uninspected rock
slides , and had leads we had noted in the survey but not taken. These
were giant leads, and they were in the conduit path of the cave. We
needed a better look at that last 3500 feet of cave to be sure we had
gone the right way. Indeed we had.

   We had put more safeties in the cave on the previous two dives where
we had worked tunnels closer to the entrance in the 7-8 thousand range.
We had tested new routes for decompression and gas mileage ( they were
deeper ) and for time. We had tried some new ideas with the scooters and
with the drive gas. We rebuilt the rebreathers. We rearranged the plans
and the logic. We threw some other options into the mix. We freed the
rest of the team up to do their own explorations. We needed to see what
really could be done, and we needed to be ready to do it anywhere.

   Brent had Barry build him a new reel, one that holds 2700 feet of
#24. He loaded that, I took a 1700 reel , JJ had an 1800. We met the
night before and set up our gear, installing the deco bottles after the
Park closed. In the morning at 6, we got rolling, with the first
rebreather team of Trout, Rose and Mee taking off with our big scooters
and drive bottles on their way to exploring M Tunnel where they added
line in two leads. They dropped our gear at the furthest point where we
were on the same route.

   The B Tunnel team waited for us and went after us, going on to add
line there. We would have three teams in the water doing gigantic dives
- SOP for the KPP. Just as we were ready to dive, JJ's drysuit valve
blew. This kind of thing is made more annoying by the fact that we bust
our chops to have perfect gear. JJ had tested that suit several times
that week. When gear breaks, we wonder if we are really supposed to dive
that day. Last time we tried this , we had so many things go funky at
the surface , and then my light bulb , which I had just changed moments
earlier in my room, blew in A Tunnel because there was no argon in it.
We opted for an easy dive that day instead.

    This day we were not swayed. I looked at JJ - he was cool as usual ,
and behind him in the water was Brent, visible only by his face above
the water, holding Barry's reel in both hands towards me. He had written
"Mack" on the yellow safety tape. He was laughing with that face of his
that is so funny. The last time I saw that face was before the record
dive at Chips when a certain detractor of ours told him that the only
reason we could do anything is that we had all the gear , the team, and
the best divers, and that otherwise we were "nothing" at the NACD
workshop. We were going diving. 

     We took off with our escort team who check the rebreathers and gear
as we go in. I can not tell you exactly how we did this dive logisticly,
since we have a group who claims they know better than us how to do this
and is trying to disrupt our work, but I can tell you the rest of the
story genericly.

     We picked up our extra gear as we went by it, and moved it further
into the cave. We also picked up the safeties we had left at 6500 on our
last dive, and moved them forward ( covering ourselves all the way to 14
thousand feet). We had already done every tunnel up to 11,000 ( Cherokee
Sink), so started working slowly and methodicly from 11 grand.

     I stayed on the line, Brent had the left, JJ had the right. When
they went off, I held and spotted for them, adjusting as they moved in
the 80 to 100 foot wide tunnel, and when they signalled me, I marked the
leads and put them in the book, having kept track of exactly where we
were, and I took a couple of survey shots to be sure, and made notes as
to the location and the look of the tunnels. I could see the cave
clearly in the backlight of my two partners.

      After 138 minutes of checking and taking notes and sketches, we
hit "The Room" at 14 grand. This time Brent was on that wall, and he
came back with THE signal. I qave him the "end of the line is right
there" signal, and he pulled out "Mack". That answered my question. I
dumped my last safety and adjusted my rebreather to breath from both
regs and all bottles at once ( so I would not be interrupted while
surveying). I now was drawing at 10:1 from 340 cubic feet of gas, I was
on a 30 amp hour nicad light that looks like a Light Sabre, I was riding
a Magnum Gavin scooter that is neutrally buoyant, and towing a full
Gavin untouched, wearing new c-4 and a special hood that made the 68
degree flowing water feel like it was not there, and I was staring down
a tunnel that looked like the most beautiful cave I had ever seen. 

School bus sized boulders strewn around, white walls, giant width and
height, and decent water. Huge white crayfish, old speleothems, natural
black bacteria and the look of Tallahasse Power Cave with all kinds of
speactacular features. The cave worked around some kind of sinkhole 300
feet above and took off for the ocean, making all kinds of unexpected
twists and turns, but staying large with many side tunnels. It is as if
the real volume of cave in this region does nto even start until you get
near Crawfordville.
   
  The three of us moved slowly and carefully through the cave. You want
to take as much in as possible when you are this far "Downtown".
Information and data gathered from here might was well be from the
surface of Pluto, and must be treated accordingly. If we don't come back
with it, nobody else ever will. This is why we are there, and our job is
to produce that data. We do. 

  The next thing I knew , Brent was holding a loop of line in his hand,
and "Mack's" shiny new spool was empty in his hand. JJ was deploying his
giant reel, and I heard them both laughing. When I got to them, they
both pointed at me and gave me the "you're nuts" sign. We then had a
hand signal discussion of who was more nuts, and we all kept pointing at
each other. 

  Moving on, I started noting the time at each survey station. At 170
minutes, I still thought we could get out in 130 since 10 of that time
had been checking out the stuff going into the last deco spot before we
launched. I signalled JJ to wrap it up. He jokingly asked me , "turn
around?", and I pointed to my bottom timer. He tied it off, and then the
discussion started up again as to who was most nuts. This time each of
us was saying it was the other two. We had a good laugh, packed it in,
and cruised on out. I left my whole collection of line arrows and their
holder ( which I keep in my pocket) on the line.

  We had gone to our last scooter  and left our big one, also we
switched back to those when we got to them. It is always faster laying
the last piece of line with minimal gear, but we have done it with
eveything on us. Also, we figure everything so that we have two (per
man) of whatever it would take to get back to whatever we left. I keep
that score running all of the time. We know what it rally takes to do,
execute and get out of these dives, and we not only do not listen to
anyone who has never done it, we invoke Rule Number One as to even being
on the same property with anyone who thinks otherise. This may make a
few of you understand my huge distaste for B.S. in any form, and why
there is no longer any question as to what the WKPP will and will not
do, and there is no longer any question or discussion as to who knows
best in that regard - we do.

   At 14000 feet we started collecting our safeties, and I converted
mine to a rebreather bottle on the spot and hooked it into my system for
the ride out. I disconnected my back gas, and we took off. JJ and Brent
were laughing and examining my converter, as it had not previosuly been
seen by them. I saw them switch regs to a full safety , but mine are
din. JJ had broken the knob of of his bottle when went to turn it on, so
he just unscrewed the reg, I took the bottle, and he switched to a
safety. We put the other reg on his broken bottle, and added it to the
outgoing batch.

   Riding out towing all of the bottles took a lot longer that we
thought. We picked up everything in the cave but one bottle that I did
not pick up for fear that it could rip my drysuit - it was seriously
crusted, and had been in there for a while. There is also another one
that has been in there since 1993, which we keep forgetting to pull out.
Seeing how delayed we were by the syphoning current and the wad of
safeties, we left them all at 6500. This is where we need to leave from
on our next dive, but we only need two of the bottles each to move
forward. We may go do that open circuit with a rebreather team setup and
then pull all of that suff back to 3500 to go out of the cave completely
and start all over again.

   Following this dive we need to work the nasty water tunnels that
nobody else will do, finish off the clear stuff that we have ignored for
so long,  and then we need to get on with Leon Sinks while we have the
chance ( the relatively "clear" water). Next year we can rework the
outer reaches of Wakulla Springs, since that is not going anywhere and
we know exactly how to do it in one day of diving each time. By then,
all of our guys will be on rebreathers and we will have our newest
tricks in place for everyone. Also, we need our gear at the other sites
- we are spread too thin now to be effective in the 200 square mile
W.K.P. with so much in Wakulla.

  At six hours we hit the first deco stop on the sand hill next to B
Tunnel. We knew that the team above would be seriously worried, since we
usually call the time exactly in advance. That bothered me a lot . I did
my 250 stop, my 240, and then broke to 200 to se if anyone was there -
they were not. I grabbed a Gator Aide and went back to 230. I got one
drink before I lost the Gator Aide to the void above me. I turned off my
light, drank some water, restarted my rebreather and floated in the
dark. There was no sense looking at my depth or time, since I had not
yet figured out a deco schedule, and had no tables with me. 

  One time I did a dive with Gavin, and at 120 feet after a few stops he
asked me for the schedule. I asked him to show me his. He did not have
one. I told him I did not have one. He then frisked me and looked
through everything in my pockets and my books. He wrote me back and
asked if I had a "New York Times" he could read. I told hinm to get out
and get it out of the van and bring it back, or I would get out and read
the schedcule and come back to tell him what it was. This went through
my head, only I remembered taking the deco tables out of my van, and
throwing them in the trash a long time ago.

  I wondered if I could just get out right there. 360 minutes or SIX
HOURS at 285-300 is so ridiculous that I did not want to think about it.
I started figuring for a full saturation dive. I knew what that looked
like from 250-180, so worked on the rest. I could not come up with any
reason to do more deco than for 3 hours, but I did come up with a few
very compelling reasons do do LESS between 170 and 100. I tried it. In
my mind I broke the dive into three dives: 120 to 40, 240-130, and 300
only. The first dive cleared in my mind 20 minutes into the 40 foot
stop. The second nearly cleared after the a 40 minute 40 foot stop, but
oxygen did not help it any, and the third cleared to 120 after the 170
stop, producing the second dive as the deco, that in turn producing the
third dive as the deco, and all telling me the whole thing could well be
done without ANY oxygen. That I was not willing to try, since I had to
be back home the next day for sure. I knew absolutely what WOULD work,
so did it. I went ahead with an 8.5 hour deco plan, but knew I was not
going to get out before 2:00 am , so sent up word to Dawn to get me a
room at Wakulla so I could get a couple hours sleep before I left. Panos
got the room, and I got up in time to catch Barry Miller coming out of
the water from his SECOND 3500 foot plus dive of the day ( he , Chris
Werner and Ted Cole went back in and cleanrd up the gear which we left
at 3500 feet).

 I could not sleep in the trough since everytime I fell asleep, I
stopped breathing. Not wanting to die in my sleep after a record dive, I
stayed awake. I realized that with the low level of CO2 in my blood, and
with my conditioning, my body was seeing no reason to breath for
extended periods of time. With so much stored oxygen, that feedback
mechanisnm was nonfunctional for me, and actully does not work in me
unless the oxygen surrounding me is lower than in my body at one ata
equivalent of air. I have tried it with the rebreather and with pure
helium to see. I got out after 150 minutes at 30 without any problems,
and went to my room.
   
   At 5:30 I went back down to the dock and got on the horn with the
divers who were still in the water. The whole WKPP crew was still out
there at it, and going smoothly. I loaded my stuff and took off.

   I waited until a reasonable hour and phoned Mercedes Scarabin to let
her know that Brent was ok and that he was just packing up his stuff. I
could not get Becca until later. Now I was driving along and I wanted to
tell somebody what we did. Tell somebody about this dive. I called
Carmichael, left a message. He phoned me back, he and Bill Mee were at
Gavin's house. He said, "what do you want me to tell Gavin?". Tell him
18 grand. He will understand.

    Then I was driving some more, thinking about who I could tell. There
was only one person who I wanted to tell, and I could not. Parker
Turner. I would have loved to be able to tell Parker Turner.  I remember
his frog, it had a name, but I forget it. It was some kind of bizarre
rain forest frog.  He told me that this frog was the "best" cave diver. 
He still is, but we are not a bad second. I just wish Parker were here
to tell about it.

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