Back to the Florida Caves: Part II

It had been a good two-dive day, in Peacock III and then Peacock I, Peanut. Mike and I settled into camp life, cranked up the TV and watched StarShip Troopers on DVD fight of the giant spiders from outer space. The evening's meal was grilled ribeye, baked potato, green beans, with a fresh spinach and lettuce salad, and pistachios before and after. A couple of red dog beers set off the evening just right, and we were soon laughing at the mutilations of human bodies by malevolent pinchers of very Earth-like (albeit giant-sized) alien spiders. It's a good thing when you can laugh at decapitations, severed limbs, eviscerations, and sucked-out brains.

The next day we woke early and returned to Peacock Springs to dive Orange Grove. Duckweed covered the karst window almost completely, only a small circle of crystal clear water broke the green cover. Mike remarked that it looked solid, as if we could walk across it. I laughed and said I bet we could and walked down the stairs and stepped into the water just as if I had total faith, the kind that moves mountains, the kind that walks on water. I took just one step, just one step where the stairs ended and the rock began; the rock that was only an inch below the waterline, hidden by duckweed. I stood with one foot on the step and one on the hidden rock appearing as if standing on one foot on the water. Mike just rolled his eyes, shook his head from side to side, and turned to go get geared up.

We read about the Grand Traverse on the cave divers forum, had heard it spoken of by divers getting fills at Rennaker's, and found it shown on maps and descriptions on other web sites. Sounded like something to shoot for, so we had begun our attempt. Yesterday, we found our cookie from last month, on the Peacock I side, and had pushed it further in. Today we were determined to reach Challenge Sink on thirds.

We did drills, surfaced to calculate thirds, then dropped down to set the guideline and enter the cave. It all went smooth as silt and soon we were frogging along following the gold line. From rock bottom to silt bottom, from down low to up high, and horizontal slits to vertical cracks, it was a delight to dive. Some places with long stretches of steady kicking and unchanging scenery to places with sudden changes up and down, left and right, it was all a real joy. I began to feel the fun of the dive, the pure pleasure of physical motions in a weightless wetness. I forgot about time and space. I forgot about here and now. I forgot about forgetting and merged into a zen state of oneness; or so it seemed. Next stop the twilight zone…. I pulled my eyes wide open, shook my head, and cleared my mask. Whew! That was a close one. You know, your mind can take you places you don't want to go.

We reached thirds before we reached Challenge and turned the dive. I could see Mike's eyes when I turned and gave the thumb up sign. He looked off down the passage, then back to me, and then returned the thumb up. I took a last look and thought about canceling the turn. I was at thirds, Mike wasn't. Surely we could push it just a bit further, just beyond thirds only a little bit and we'd surface at Challenge. Nothing had ever happened to us before, no out of air emergencies, no real problems…. It was so close, surely it would be ok…. We turned the dive. We kicked against the current in that part that flows to Challenge, until we reached the part that flows away from Challenge where we turned down and back to ride it out.

I rode along in Taoist mode, riding the current, not fighting it, not imposing my own will, but letting it carry me where it will. I learned in cave class that currents flow along the outside of a turn, so the inside has less flow. I rode the current like a leaf in a rain gutter, and let it push me into the curve, then pull me around the outside of it and out again, over-compensating for the angle and flowing just a bit to the left of middle as the passage straightened out. At that moment I saw the water flowing as if someone had mounted little flags all over it and put it in a wind tunnel. I saw it. I saw how it all moved as if someone had photographed it from outer space in false color and posted it on the web page of my mind.

We came out of Orange Grove, somewhat disappointed that we failed to make it to Challenge Sink on thirds, but then, so what? We don't cave dive to go further, or to go deeper, or to really do much of anything except to just be there. Challenge is there and will be for a long time to come. We may someday make it on thirds, or maybe we won’t. I'll be back to try, but once again it won't make a bit of difference if we make it or not.

Back in the land of free air, we returned to Rennaker's for fills of the not-so-free nitrox, and some lunch. The next dive was back into Peacock following the Pothole route to Olsen and beyond. We thought we might be able to find our cookie on the line at the jump from the other side.

The dive was great. The viz was the best in months, or so everyone was saying. Mike and I puttered along to Pothole, then kept on towards Olsen. My light faded down to a mere pretense of illumination and I wondered why, so banged it against my palm a few times. Then I tried moving the cord and twisting it, pulling and pushing, but the light did not react. It kept fading until it was little more than a candle flicker and Mike, ahead of me, could not detect my back and forth slashes. Then he turned and asked if I was ok; I kept slashing my light back and forth. He hesitated, unsure of what he was seeing, and then swam back to me. I turned off the now-paled main light, turned on a backup, and signaled a thumb up; time to get out of here. Mike returned the thumb up and waited for me to kick off. I signaled for him to go ahead of me, and he just hung there, looking at me. "What?" I thought, and repeated the chant, "weakest light goes out first." Oh. I was the weakest light! Funny how you can know stuff and yet not know stuff…. I turned and led the way out, thankful that Mike was my buddy.

We exited slowly in good viz enjoying the slow trip back out. We came back to Pothole, and I turned to Mike to ask if he wanted to go up and sit for awhile. He said ok, so up we went. We hadn't been up in Pothole before, but it turned out to be an easy ascent, a quick safety stop, and a fun surface interval, after which we dropped down and proceeded along the way to Peacock I and our exit. We lingered in the cavern zone, playing around a bit here and there, then rose up and left the water. We were just in time for the curfew. No dives to start after 3:30pm and everyone out of the park before 5:30pm. It's a rough schedule, but we made it.

Back in camp, I pondered why the light had failed, especially since I'd just had it refurbished by Dive-Rite a month earlier. Then it dawned on me that I'd assumed that Dive-Rite had charged the battery before sending the light back to me. Ah, so it was a simple assumption that someone else had done the charging that had led to the light failure. Well, at least it wasn't serious and an overnight charge fixed it right up!