Ginnie and Peacock - Florida November 2005
Well, I go diving every weekend, so what made this one different?
It was inland, in fresh water - so running to type there
The two particular sites I dived in though were, however, 4,000 miles from my normal haunts, underground in Florida. Welcome to Ginny and Peacock Springs.
I admit, it was a crazy idea, fly to Florida for a weekend - meeting Frank who is out there for a month and Fraser who was flying down from his temporary base in New York, but it was worth every memory rich moment (and the appalling jetlag I am sitting here with now on the way in to work).
Since I joined GUE, I’ve heard so much about these caves, and of High Springs, home of GUE, Extreme Explorers and Salvo. Yet sitting on the plane on the way out on Friday, I realised that I had no idea what to expect. That’s why I’m going to write this trip report in quite some detail - in case anyone reading it would like to known more too (that, and it’s a long train journey and I need to stay awake).
Me at Peacock.
Fraser and I met up at Orlando to face the ultimate potential disaster at the start of a dive weekend - his dive bag didn’t make it on to the plane from New York. A tense couple of hours went by until it turned up on a later flight - leaving us heading off behind schedule. We headed out on what should have been a three hour journey but got utterly lost - thinking that we would find the Dive Outpost we were staying at in Live Oak when it was actually 30 odd miles from the town - distances in cave country are huge. We finally arrived at 2.30 am - I had been on the road for well over 24 hours.
Morning came all too soon until I came too enough to realise where I was - and then waking up was easy. I headed out to find coffee and found little Britain instead - Martin Robson, Ritchie Stevenson, Frank Bruce, Angie and Paul Brown were there.
We were offered a choice of twinsets, Fraser opted for 95s and I took a set of 80s which were pumped to 260 bar - I was told that “You know the dive is over in cave when your tanks drop to merely full!”
After breakfast at the Luraville County Store (established 1840 - pelts, mules, horses and whiskey sold here) we headed off for our first look at Peacock Springs.
I don’t quite know what I expected, but whatever it was, it wasn’t what I found. Peacock is, quite simply, beautiful above and below the water. I was stunned by the tranquility of the place (and quite stunned by the signs saying “Warning - Alligators” too. *eek* )
Peacock Springs
Frank gave us a surface tour and breifing, we walked past a plaque in memory of Shek Exley and got kitted up ready to jump in and find out what cave diving is like.
Our first dive was to be just a fun dive, in Peacock Spring itself. Frank was going to run the reel in and I would tidy up behind him. When we met up with the permanent guideline, Fraser would then take the lead.
Heading down, into the mouth of the cave was a particularly intense moment for me, I had no idea how I would feel but have heard that the overhead environment is not for everyone.
As our eyes adjusted to the gloom the cavern area (the bit of the cave which gets natural light) was a nice transitional area and I relaxed slightly, following Frank in past the sign of the grim reaper which set out how many people have died in the caves (I think it was forty odd) and reminding people of the need for training.
I had expected it to be dark but with three HIDs there was not only light in the beams but quite a bit of reflected light around, certainly enough to see the beauty of the caves.
We were diving 6ths so only went in about 800 feet - but this was enough to see various different tunnels, narrow areas where we had to travel single file, low sections where we had to pull through, wide areas with silty bottoms and scalloped ceilings which caught the bubbles we exhaled which then shone like mirrors in the ceiling. The water was incredibly clear, vis at least 20 metres and the cave walls were white. It really is a beautiful environment. In total our dive time was 50 minutes - it seemed like half that and was over far too soon.
Inside Peacock
After a comfort break, a snack (and an oggle at men in red DUI drysuits) we went back in for another dive where Frank was going to take us through some skills. Shutdowns in the cavern area were not fun - my manifold had metal valve knobs and getting a good grip was dificult. In adition, I had settled in quite a restricted bit of the cave and when I breathed in I headed up to the roof, whilst exhalling took me on to the floor.
We then ran the line in and started out into the cave to be hit with various scenarios, OOAs, valve and primary light failures etc. Skills were necessary, Caves are an environment which must be taken seriously - but I have to admit that at this point I just wanted to enjoy the dives.
Boy, this is long, are you still awake
Day two and we’re off to Ginny Springs. There had been little perceptible flow in Peacock, but John Kendall had warned me that diving in Ginny was akin to being spat out by a hose pipe - and he was right.
The idea was to warm up slowly, do our first dive and drills in Ginny Springs itself, but when we got to the site it was far too busy. So the plan was adapted and we were told that we would go in through the Devils Eye. I was to line in.
We approached the Eye by swimming along a shallow river, perhaps 50 yards about two meters deep - with fish and even some swimmers (Ginny is a State Park). The river water was green ish (good vis perhaps 10 or so meters) but suddenly ahead I could see blue clear water, full of bubbles. We had reached the Eye and could clearly see the spring water coming out, mixing with the brown tanic river water.
Devils Eye
I found a primary tie off point easily (a very convenient log) and went in - what a squeeze!!! A secondary proved a little more difficult and I had to scout around a bit before I found a suitable rock. I then checked that Fraser and Frank were there and headed in - or tried too.
Imagine swimming against the strongest current, trying to run a light and a reel. I fought my way along forr no more than 50 feet but found myself unable to manage it all and stopped and signalled to Frank for help.
Freed of the reel, and now able to copy Frank, I was able to kick and pull my way forward - just. We got to the permanent line where Frank tied off the reel, and headed in on the permanent line.
At this point I took the lead again. Concentrating on pulling, I followed the left hand wall, only to have Fraser flash me - I had strayed away from the line - which was on the right of the tunnel - and had, without realising it, started down a side tunnel.
Back on track, slither slither, pull pull, - Wow!!!!!
We exited the restriction (where understandably the water flow is very strong) and entered a room with scalloped walls and a high roof - Frank gestured to us both to swim higher - up in the roof where the flow was weaker. This is my abiding memory of the weekend - it was truely spectcular. For those who know Ginny, we got to the cornflakes when we had to turn the dive.
Riding the flow out was like a mad drift - Fraser’s manifold took a belt on the ceiling - and took less that a third the time of our entry. We left the reel in place and exited - it was like being spat out as unwelcome intruders - I exited into the pool to find Fraser mopping his brow
Dive two was led by Frank, who had a treat for us (as this would be the last dive we did) We entered in the Devil’s Ear this time, which is a case of swimming almost vertically into a split in the ground, against a flow which is trying to push you out again.
Devils Ear
You push and pull, kick and pull, down and down, hugging the walls wherever possible to keep out of the flow. Suddenly you round a corner and the flow goes away - and you go SPLAT! The flow has been keeping you up - inspite of the loss of buoyancy from the increased depth - when it goes away you hit the bottom
We make our way through the tunnel keeping as high as possible, and my manifold takes a big hit on the roof this time. I listen for bubbles.
Suddenly, I see my reel - we have crossed to the entrance point which we used on dive 1. Someone has tied into it and staged deco bottles on their line - Frank takes a few minutes to free our line and tidy things up for the exiting team.
So - all too soon - it’s over. Fraser heads off to the airport and I head back with Frank to Dive Outpost. We stop off at Little River for a look and drop by on Andy Kerslake’s lodgings to pick up some Gavins.
Monday morning I pack up and hit the road with Paul, Angie Simon and Ken who are heading home as well. They want to do some shopping on the way and when I discover that this will involve visiting Salvo, Extreme Explorers and GUE I happily go along.
I was very pleased to meet Barry Miller (Salvo) who upgraded my torch for me there and then and, then we headed off to EE where we pulled in and Frank said “Oh look, JJ’s here”
So, my Florida weekend ended with quite a long chat with JJ who asked about what we were doing as a team. He asked about diving in England and expressed an interest in coming on one trip we have planned. Now that would be fun
Was it worth a 8,000 mile round trip to do four dives. You bet. Next time, I’ll do it for longer to avoid the mean case of jetlag I had (and still have).
If you made it this far - congratulations on your tenacity - and I hope you have a slightly better picture of what is over in Florida.
If you get the chance - go - you won’t regret it.
