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Subject: My day with the Cave Clan.
So I finally met up with the local Cave Clan. They're a group of explorers who seek out the ignored places within our society: drainpipes, tunnels, abandoned buildings, things of that nature. I emailed them two years ago, and after a brief email exchange I never heard from them again. Out of the blue last week I get a 'come meet the Cave Clan' email, and on Sunday afternoon I joined about 20 other people in a pub where we chatted a bit before hitting the culverts.
We ducked through a convenient hole in a fence, and followed a railway for about 20 metres, before dropping into a large drain entrance. We scooted under the rail tracks, and came to a brief open area, before wedging ourselves through another hole, and into a large, long tunnel. It would be a good half hour before we saw more than snatches of daylight.
I briefly remembered that I was claustrophobic as we set off down this almost-standing-height tunnel. I figured I could force my way past this fear if I just concentrated on where I was walking, and I took comfort in the fact that, with 20 of us, we were probably on a fairly well known and safe route.
I briefly considered the fact that I was in a confined space with 20 strangers, and wondered for just a moment if they were going to slaughter me/us, but I didn't dwell on the idea.
We passed a vertical shaft where I could see, with the aid of my flashlight, that we were about six metres underground now. We passed a restaurant and the narrow stream of water in the middle of the curved-floor tunnel became greasy and smelly. The left-right-left-right waddle I'd adopted to stay out of it was starting to become painful, but ever-more critical above this smelly waste, and one of the more experienced guys told me about the three-step walk: three steps on one side, and cross over to the other. It was much easier on the hips, but I now had to worry more about the slippery walls.
There was an enormous BANG followed by about two minutes of ear-ringing silence.
One of the old timers had lit off a little 'smoke grenade', not realizing that ordering these things off the internet solely on their appearance might lead to mistaken identities. There was very little smoke and just the loud bang. He was a bit apologetic, once we could hear him.
Shortly after finding a rat - which kept pace with us, no doubt in a state of concealed panic at this invasion of its home - we entered a taller, natural tunnel. It seemed to have been hand-hewn from the rock, and was quite uneven on all sides. Walking was treacherous, every rock was coated in slime and the water was a foot deep in some places. It was quickly pointed out to me that my attempts to stay out of the water was more likely to put me on my back, and I ended up walking in the stream like everyone else. Still, there were several instances where I nearly went ass over teakettle. I was paying so much attention to the rocks that I failed to notice the bats.
Well, now I know why they call this the Bat Cave. Hundreds of little bats flying around our heads, occasionally brushing our heads with their soft wings, but mostly managing to avoid us. It's hard to gauge distance in a sewer, but it seemed like a hundred metres or so of bats and slippery uneven rocks, and suddenly we were emerging into daylight right on the Brisbane River, at Kangaroo Point.
Huh.
There was music coming from the drain as we waited for everyone to come out, and this was surprising to me. Music? From the sewer? Turns out the last guy had a computer and speaker assembly in a massive backpack, powered by a battery and inverter. Neat.
We regrouped, applied a little antiseptic cream to some minor cuts, and off we walked back to our cars.
The next pipe was a lot shorter: drop through a large grate in a man-made pond, and shuffle down a half-circle pipe (flat on the bottom) for a while. When I remarked that the ceiling seemed to be getting lower, someone said that no, the floor was getting higher. I thought this a fairly glass-half-full thing to say, until the floor dropped a foot for the next segment. OK, I don't know my culverts very well. Point taken.
This one ended in a very large room, and some time was spent listening to chiptunes on the backpack soundsystem, (exploring culverts to the sounds of 8-bit music? How fucking awesome is that?) and for fun they lit off a few fireworks. When the smoke cleared, we ventured forward to the end of the easily-passible stuff, and then went back to about halfway, crawled through a mercifully short pipe not much wider than my shoulders, and straight up through a manhole and back into the daylight.
Cool. =D
I didn't take my camera, since I didn't know what to expect and I didn't want to offend anyone, nor risk splooshing my way into an expensive insurance claim. I did snap a couple of pics with my phone, but predictably they suck.
![[Image: /grafx/Cave1.jpg]](/grafx/Cave1.jpg "/grafx/Cave1.jpg")
![[Image: /grafx/Cave2.jpg]](/grafx/Cave2.jpg "/grafx/Cave2.jpg")
![[Image: /grafx/Cave3.jpg]](/grafx/Cave3.jpg "/grafx/Cave3.jpg")
We ducked through a convenient hole in a fence, and followed a railway for about 20 metres, before dropping into a large drain entrance. We scooted under the rail tracks, and came to a brief open area, before wedging ourselves through another hole, and into a large, long tunnel. It would be a good half hour before we saw more than snatches of daylight.
I briefly remembered that I was claustrophobic as we set off down this almost-standing-height tunnel. I figured I could force my way past this fear if I just concentrated on where I was walking, and I took comfort in the fact that, with 20 of us, we were probably on a fairly well known and safe route.
I briefly considered the fact that I was in a confined space with 20 strangers, and wondered for just a moment if they were going to slaughter me/us, but I didn't dwell on the idea.
We passed a vertical shaft where I could see, with the aid of my flashlight, that we were about six metres underground now. We passed a restaurant and the narrow stream of water in the middle of the curved-floor tunnel became greasy and smelly. The left-right-left-right waddle I'd adopted to stay out of it was starting to become painful, but ever-more critical above this smelly waste, and one of the more experienced guys told me about the three-step walk: three steps on one side, and cross over to the other. It was much easier on the hips, but I now had to worry more about the slippery walls.
There was an enormous BANG followed by about two minutes of ear-ringing silence.
One of the old timers had lit off a little 'smoke grenade', not realizing that ordering these things off the internet solely on their appearance might lead to mistaken identities. There was very little smoke and just the loud bang. He was a bit apologetic, once we could hear him.
Shortly after finding a rat - which kept pace with us, no doubt in a state of concealed panic at this invasion of its home - we entered a taller, natural tunnel. It seemed to have been hand-hewn from the rock, and was quite uneven on all sides. Walking was treacherous, every rock was coated in slime and the water was a foot deep in some places. It was quickly pointed out to me that my attempts to stay out of the water was more likely to put me on my back, and I ended up walking in the stream like everyone else. Still, there were several instances where I nearly went ass over teakettle. I was paying so much attention to the rocks that I failed to notice the bats.
Well, now I know why they call this the Bat Cave. Hundreds of little bats flying around our heads, occasionally brushing our heads with their soft wings, but mostly managing to avoid us. It's hard to gauge distance in a sewer, but it seemed like a hundred metres or so of bats and slippery uneven rocks, and suddenly we were emerging into daylight right on the Brisbane River, at Kangaroo Point.
Huh.
There was music coming from the drain as we waited for everyone to come out, and this was surprising to me. Music? From the sewer? Turns out the last guy had a computer and speaker assembly in a massive backpack, powered by a battery and inverter. Neat.
We regrouped, applied a little antiseptic cream to some minor cuts, and off we walked back to our cars.
The next pipe was a lot shorter: drop through a large grate in a man-made pond, and shuffle down a half-circle pipe (flat on the bottom) for a while. When I remarked that the ceiling seemed to be getting lower, someone said that no, the floor was getting higher. I thought this a fairly glass-half-full thing to say, until the floor dropped a foot for the next segment. OK, I don't know my culverts very well. Point taken.
This one ended in a very large room, and some time was spent listening to chiptunes on the backpack soundsystem, (exploring culverts to the sounds of 8-bit music? How fucking awesome is that?) and for fun they lit off a few fireworks. When the smoke cleared, we ventured forward to the end of the easily-passible stuff, and then went back to about halfway, crawled through a mercifully short pipe not much wider than my shoulders, and straight up through a manhole and back into the daylight.
Cool. =D
I didn't take my camera, since I didn't know what to expect and I didn't want to offend anyone, nor risk splooshing my way into an expensive insurance claim. I did snap a couple of pics with my phone, but predictably they suck.
BLEARGH
