Stuck & Alone

With a strong Northern blow still leaning in on the island of Providenciales, John, Mark, and myself finally agreed that a crossing to North Caicos and Cottage Pond, might be achievable. We left the Leeward Marina, and Mark elected to take the Southern route around Dellis Cay, to avoid the swells still coming in from the North. On the barrier reef that extends for nearly 200 miles along the Northern coastline, the surf could be seen breaking in 10-12 foot waves over the reef. As we emerged from the Dellis Cay going through, we began to rethink our decision. The swells got quite large, and we had to "play the waves" for 1- 1/2 hours to finally make Sandy Point dock on North Caicos.

"Playing the Waves", as I would learn, was a captains technique of piloting the vessel around the swells and rollers, to avoid swamping, while still generally headed toward the destination. There were times when I had to yell "Roller! Port!" and Mark would do a complete 360 to keep the wave where he wanted it against the boat.

"Surfing", as I was told is something that we DID NOT want to experience in this 23 foot skiff, especially if we did not want to be swimming for shore, and later returning to retrieve 1000 pounds of exploration gear off the bottom of the ocean...........along with the boat. Once we finally arrived at Sandy Point dock, after our white knuckle boat ride, a farmer named Dan took us to Cottage Pond. Once at Cottage, we all ran through our equipment checks and the now familiar dive plan, to confirm agreement as we always do.

The plan was made for me to push into the "A" tunnel, which would later jokingly become named "Jim's Folly." Being the only experienced side-mount diver, It was agreed that I would go in and see where this tunnel led. We knew it was taking water during outgoing tide, reducing the level in the pond by nearly 2-feet every six hours or so. It was a spring tide at the time, additionally with a FULL MOON, causing the tides in the surrounding seas to be quite higher than normal. Cottage Pond was already known to be tidally effected, and we all knew that either the side tunnels or the deep tunnel was taking water. It was suggested by Mark at the time, that the exchange with the sea may be occurring through both the shallow AND the deep tunnels.

As we made our descent to the gas stations at "Hole in the Wall", it was agreed that Mark and Jim (support diver) would do shallow support for John and myself, and that John would then support me in my A - tunnel push. Once we located the guideline to the A - tunnel, from our main line to depth, we progressed along it for 75 feet to the opening in the East wall.

Tying off, at the end of this line, I turned and signaled OK to John, and gave him the "5-minutes" sign, as agreed. As I would soon find out, this 5-minute push would turn into a 20 minute ordeal. I pushed into virgin tunnel, that was irregular in shape, but felt hard. The tunnel was white, and silty, but contained clear seawater, headed toward the sea as I would soon learn. The water produced that deep blue hue, that explorers have come to love.

Moving cautiously and thoughtfully along this passage, about 75 feet now from John and the entrance to it, I belayed the line and turned right, headed South. At a penetration of about 160 feet I came to an odd shaped restriction that was pretty small, even by my standards, about 7 inches high on one side, and maybe 10 inches on the other....two feet wide.

As I eyeballed it, I could of course see a small room ahead of me, approximately 6 foot by 6 foot about 2 feet high, so I pushed through it at a sloping angle to a depth of 97 feet. Passing this restriction was NOT easy, and at this point something clicked - and to this day I am not sure why - I could see more passage ahead, but something told me I better tie off, turn around, and study this restriction I just crammed myself through.

As I tried to find a tie off, I searched for solid rock, and to my horror quickly realized the geology had changed in the last 25 feet, probably due to the recent depth change. Everything was soft, and crumbly, maybe due to the halocline nearby I surmised. I found what I THOUGHT to be a good tie off and made it. I stowed the reel, just as visibility was completely swallowed by white cloud of silt and chunks of limerock.

I could not see. I turned slowly in the soup, just me and my exit line. Now I realized I could not see the restriction from which I had just passed. Still WELL within gas quantities, and the line in my hand, I hung for a minute to think and breath. I was now 170 feet from the A - tunnel mouth, and John. I knew well enough that restrictions can be different coming from the other direction, but I could not see it. I would have to "feel" it. Now we were having fun..........I checked my time, and gas supply's. Checked my back up regulator, and moved forward in the mist.

I could feel the restriction, and I tried to translate that to my head. The left side was higher so I move left. I was 7 minutes into the push at this point, 3100 PSI, right side breathing cylinder. This is where things got tricky. I moved up, left and forward. Stuck. I backed up and tried again, no good. I backed up and thought for a moment with my eyes closed (like it mattered if they were open) and tried to enhance my other senses....the sense of feel.

For a bit, I thought that something had possibly collapsed as there seemed no obvious hole in the rock. Maybe chunks of ceiling have fallen down in small sized rocks to reduce the size of the entrance...maybe I need to "sweep it out"....I thought. I squeezed all of the air out of my BC, ran my arms slowly across the floor of the small hole I was trying so desperately to pass through, and tried again. Things got worse. A this point I became hopelessly stuck and could not move at all, deep in the bowels of the Earth, in some unknown Blue Hole, that didn't care about me nor my life.

I mused that I cared about the cave, hoping it would sense this and release me. I could move neither forward or backwards, and began to get that "hemmed in feeling" of being alone and stuck. The rock and gravel pressed in on my chest, and the ceiling was leaning in on my back. Every time I tried to move, I could not, and chunks of debri rained down.

Stuck.

I then thought, "this is NOT good", as I felt the pounding in my chest naturally increase. I pressed my dive computer to my mask in the swirling mud, and could just make out...11 minutes. I thought "How in the world could I have gotten into this much trouble, in just 11 minutes?" I could not get my hands behind me, and to make matters worse, I could now feel slack guideline on my left side meaning that my final tie off had either come loose, or broken.

I did not know which, nor did I care, I only knew that I now had two problems to deal with. The mental demons began to creep into my skull, telling me I was going to die, and the number of divers that had been found with line in their hands ---- I even considered for a brief moment to jettison myself from this sidemount rig.

I quickly eliminated that possibility as that was the need to flee trying to trick me into doing something stupid ---this is when control kicked in.

I stopped and realized that I only had TWO problems to deal with and that I could do that. I breathed again, and remember learning the hard way that the baseline for survival is the breathing rate. Still stuck, unable to move, and unable to see. I closed my eyes, and concentrated on an old Bugs Bunny cartoon (don't ask me why) where Bugs and Elmer were playing "Barber of Seville", over and over in my mind.

I held for two minutes. When I opened my eyes, miraculously the water was clearing some, which reduced the stress to some degree, and brought to my realization that this tunnel....that I was wedged into.....was pulling water out of Cottage Pond - siphoning toward the Sea. "Hell of a way to find out" I thought at the time.

First I had to deal with the slack line. Time was 16 minutes now, still right side breathing on 2800 PSI. John would be getting more than worried at this point, and unknown to me had already started up the line for a tank and to signal trouble to the support divers. I don't know what he would have done, seeing that he could not get to me. Something had my back, as I pulled the guideline into my hand with my fingers, ever so carefully. I tried wiggling my rear end, and this worked! It then allowed me to finally at least back into the small coffin I was trying to leave.

Now free, and having consumed 500 PSI out of one tank in this ordeal, I knew that I was still fine on gas, as long as I managed the problems and my breathing properly, but that I WAS in 100 feet of sea water. Free but still trapped and unable to see, I rested on the ceiling of this small room, drove a PCV stake I had stowed on the inside of the left tank, and made fast the line. I then again tried gingerly to pass the restriction and again became stuck, then, all at once, like the opening of a can of Coke, I popped free from the lime rock coffin, and could again move freely.

Feeling some relief, I began to work my way out of this grim (very small) tunnel and to John who was showing me his timer with :20 minutes on it. I noted then that John had marked the line, and was waiting there with two support divers and an extra tank of gas. The ordeal was over, and we proceeded to surface to discuss my delay. After I explain the situation I had experienced, and after later learning more about "halocline area tunnels," we have agreed to do limited pushes into tunnels that lie in this area, due to safety (agressive water). We then agreed to concentrate on the big, deep tunnel (which we bottomed at 255 the next year) instead. We broke down gear and headed back to Grouper and rice, and a cold Corona. A well deserved one at that.