Note:  In October 1999 I was hired to film a cave diving sequence for a MacGillivray Freeman IMAX film scheduled to be released this winter.  The film, Journey Into Amazing Caves, includes scenes filmed deep within the spectacular caves submerged beneath the Yucatan Peninsula.  I found the cave divers I worked with to be not only sane, but some of the most skilled divers I have ever dived with.  The experience changed my long-standing view that all cave divers are completely mad. 

I wrote the following story ten years ago (when I knew considerably less about cave diving than I do now). It serves to demonstrate the consequences of many things cave divers have told me never to do.  The following story does not reflect my current view of cave diving or those who engage in the practice.

Two Idiots Go Cave Diving

By Howard Hall

© Howard Hall

Underwater speleology is a compulsion that I have enjoyed great success in resisting during my two decades of sport diving. And due to this Herculean strength of will, I have managed to learn almost nothing about the affliction. However, I have learned that there are at least two types of cave divers: Florida cave divers and California cave divers.

Florida cave divers regularly demonstrate their courage and madness by entering the sponge-like labyrinth of underground rivers and caverns that form the geological foundation of their state. They often descend hundreds of feet and may penetrate a mile or more. And rather more often than rarely they don't come back.

California cave divers test their intrepidity by discovering two large boulders leaning against each other and crawling in between the two. They know they are in a cave if they need to turn their lights on in order to see lobsters in the shadows. California cave divers tend to die of old age or high cholesterol levels. I'm strictly a California cave diver, which is to say that I'm not a cave diver at all.

I was correspondingly prepared for a cave dive when my old friend Larry Cochrane and I discovered a large crack in the wall of an island off the coast of San Diego. This is to say that I was as poorly prepared as possible. Habitually, I had my underwater still camera with me. Naturally, however, I had no light and, of course, neither of us had a line. But since Larry did have a small two-battery flashlight we decided to swim on in for a look around.

After squeezing through the crack we were surprised to discover a large cavern and the twisting path of a cave that extended far beyond the beam of Larry's light. Larry suggested that we explore further and I hesitantly followed. At this point you might ask yourself (as I asked myself at the time) which of the following axioms you should use to limit your descent into an underwater cave.

Proceed until you find the end of the cave or run out of air, whichever comes first. Then carve your initials in a rock with your dive knife (holding your breath if necessary).

Proceed until you have used half your air supply.Then turn around and follow your dust trail out.

Proceed until you find yourself frightened half to death.Then turn around and see if you can find your way out following imaginary bread crums.

Proceed fearlessly but beyond sight of the cave opening. Upon realizing it's dark in there, turn around and get the heck out immediately.

With an attempt at logic as applied to safety, I chose axiom number #4. I decided that I was safe as long as I could see light coming through the opening. So with blissful confidence in my logical analysis of the situation, I followed Larry into what we would later call Godzilla Cave. Larry and I passed through several twists and turns, but always I could see light from the entrance. Eventually, the shape of the cave opening dissolved into a dull blue glow. Just when I was about ready to turn around, we came to a steep bend downward. Without a moment's hesitation Larry went right on in. I tried to grab his fin but was not quick enough. I knew that, beyond the hole he just passed through, Larry could not possibly see the cave entrance.

Evidently, Larry had selected axiom #1. I decided to stop and wait for him right where I was. After a reasonable period of time (four or five seconds) I decided that I had certainly waited long enough and would just mosey my way out of the cave. I turned and swam toward the glow emanating from the entrance.After four or five yards I suddenly discovered the flaw in axiom #4. I could not fit through the passage! Although I could see the light coming from the opening, there was not enough light to illuminate the obstacles in my path and there was no way to fit through the hole. As I moved around to find a larger passage, the opening would disappear behind solid rock.After thirty seconds of this stimulating little game, I noticed several disquieting changes in my physiology. My air consumption rose dramatically and I began to fear that I might entirely inhale the second stage of my regulator which would undoubtedly cause some form of laryngeal spasm. I also discovered an all but overwhelming desire to check my pressure gauge despite the certain knowledge that I had had 2500 psi only ten minutes earlier. In addition, the expensive camera that I was carrying suddenly seemed rather burdensome and hardly worth the ridiculous price I paid for it. So I considered leaving it behind so that I could get a better feel of the rock that blocked my exit. I also began to wonder why I ever took up diving and why I was not living happily somewhere in Arizona.

Less than five minutes and just short of a lifetime later Larry returned.I noticed immediately that his eyes were as wide as dinner plates.Moments before, he too had enjoyed an adrenalin high when he turned to find me missing and no fewer than three possible tunnels through which he may have just passed.At this point, Larry’s heart nearly exploded. His mind was racing wildly as he examined the three possible avenues to safety. One tunnel had a recently disturbed dust cloud slowly swirling near the bottom.He decided his fins must have caused this disturbance.He chose door number two. Fortunately, Larry chose the right tunnel and upon finding me where he left me, suggested leaving the cave with haste. With little reluctance, I agreed. When Larry shined his light on the spelean architecture that had inhibited my earlier attempts to depart the cave, I discovered that I had been viewing the cave entrance through a long and narrow crack.Our entrance into the cave had actually been made ten feet to the left and below where I had attempted exit. Sooner or later I would have found it, I think. After few minutes of brisk swimming we were, once again, surrounded by sunlit waters.

What did I learn?  I learned never to assume you can find your way out of a cave simply because you can see light radiating from the entrance. I also developed two new precepts to add to my personal axioms of safe aquatic spelunking: Treat all caves with the respect you would ascribe a Floridian cave. Stay out of Floridian caves.