So interesting dive this week. It's the first time I've been scared in a cave in almost 20 years. Oddly enough, the last time I was scared in a cave it was this same cave, Ginnie Springs. Me and my two wonderful dive buddies headed up to the whale bone. We took several jumps after the whale bone, ended up on double lines, and eventually ended up at Skid Row. It was low and very silty and kind of tighter than I should probably have taken my Rebreather with two AL80 bailout cylinders. But I was getting through pretty clean most of the dive. 

When we got to Skid Row, visibility was quickly being diminished to something less than 5'. I remember thinking, "man this would be a bad spot to have an issue." I swear the thought hadn't been completed before I took a full mouth of water from my Rebreather. I didn't think too much of it. Sometimes you get some condensation in the lines, you spit it out, and the next breath is clean and dry. It's really no big deal. But this time, the next breath was again a full mouthful of water. I spit it out again, thinking it was a fluke. I inhaled again.... WATER!!! Now I'm out of air from the Rebreather, and quite honestly, don't have enough air to exhale/purge a regulator. 

I close the DSV (the mouthpiece on the rebreather) and quickly yanked it out of my mouth, simultaneously thrusting my 2nd stage bailout regulator into my face. I knew I wouldn't have the breath to exhale, so I hit the purge button hard. I took what should have been a glorious lung full of fresh air, but only got a pittance of gas. I sucked hard again on the regulator, there was almost no gas. Several times, I struggled to catch my breath, but realized this tiny bit of gas was all I was going to get. Something was better than nothing. I would make do. But, now there's another problem. I had managed to firmly wedge myself in the cave. I was very stuck, and the way the guideline was ran, I could just barely hold onto the line just at my finger tips. The line was tight too, there was no slack in it at all to pull it closer to me. I struggled as best I could but no matter how I squirmed I could not free myself. Truthfully, I didn't have much chance at movement because the line was almost out of reach, and I didn't want to let go. I tried to free myself for what seemed like 5 minutes, but finally realized that I would have to try something different if I wanted to get out of here. No longer was I on a rebreather with nearly 10 hours of breathing gas. I was on an AL80 that wouldn't last forever, especially considering my heightened breathing rate caused by my struggle.

I contemplated the unthinkable. Then reconsidered. Then reconsidered again. I decided to let go of the guideline to free myself. I remember thinking as I made the decision to let go of my lifeline in zero visibility, in a tight cave, thousands of feet from the surface (okay, yes for those literal types, I realize I was only 1700' from the surface, but thousands of feet sounds better in the story) that this might be the decision that would end my life, but I let go of the line anyway. When I released my grasp of line, I was able to push myself back a few inches, just enough to get free from the wedge I managed to get myself into. I was free. But now I was lost. Or might as well be. Surely I knew which way was out right now, but certainty of direction would be gone once I moved a few feet.

Trying to only move a few inches, I reached as far as I could in the direction I thought the line was in. Nothing. I re-positioned myself, moving a bit closer to the direction of the exit and again reached as far as I could, hoping to snag the line I had just moments before given up. Nothing. I'd like to say that my breathing rate wasn't escalating, and that I wasn't getting more and more nervous with each failed attempt, but that would be a load of crap. I tried to orient my body a bit differently to allow me a better reach without again wedging me between a mound of mud on the bottom and a hard rock ceiling on top of me. I stretched my hand as long and as hard as I could, hoping to feel the taught line that alluded me. I found it! Even now I can remember the excitement and joy that came with that grasp.

I could breathe, and I was on the line. I was probably going to be okay. But I was still struggling every minute to breathe. Now that catastrophe was mostly averted, I started trying to diagnose the problem with my gas supply. I reached back and checked the valve on the tank. It was fully open. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why my regulator was breathing so poorly. Then it dawned on me. I had forgotten the adjustment knob used for de-tuning the regulator and had it nearly closed so the regulator wouldn't free flow while not being used. A simple twist of the knob and I could breathe easily again.

I had no idea how much gas I had remaining from my first bailout tank. I know I had been breathing pretty heavily and truthfully the tank could have been nearing empty at any minute. I had planned to search for my buddies until that tank was bled dry, and if I hadn't located my friends by that point, I would exit the cave on my last bottle of gas.

Meanwhile, my two buddies were searching through the mud and zero vis trying to locate me, but I had already left for clearer tunnels. When I couldn't locate them in zero vis, I took the most sensible path out of the tight passage leaving clues behind to let them know I had been there. 

My intent was to wait for them at their stage bottles that were laying at 1000' in on the Hill400 line. Knowing that I probably had less than 100cu' of gas to get me out of the cave, I had just began to leave my buddies some evidence that I was okay and on my way out of the cave when off in the distance behind me I could see their bright HID lights shining through the darkness. Everyone was safe. 

At 1700' back in the cave, it required more than 80cu' of gas to save me when my rebreather died. I recently told some people that I could make it out of the cave from 4000' back on an Al80 scuba tank. And honestly, the math is right. I should be able to do that. But when you are breathing 8cu' per minute instead of 4cu' per minute, because you are stuck, scared, and lost from your buddies; math just doesn't matter.

Be safe guys. No one ever died from taking too much gas.

I became a cave diver shortly after getting married. Cave diving back then was different than it is now. There weren't very many of us. You would show up at a site like Peacock, Ginnie or Little River and it was rare that you would see someone you didn't know. Because of advancements in safety, gear and training this sport has become so popular today that I might go to a cave site and not know any of the 20+ people diving. 

But, back in the day I remember hanging out with people like Jim Calvin, Bill Rennaker, Mark Long and Annette Long and listening for hours about their stories of these amazing caves that were so far beyond my abilities, because of depth, and complexity that I felt I'd never get a chance to dive them. They told me stories about Eagle's Nest and it's 300' depths and giant rooms big enough to house a space shuttle in. They showed me pictures of Diepolder's cave where the water was so clear you could see hundreds of feet across the room. I remember thinking in my early 20's that these places might as well be on the moon, for my likelihood of actually seeing these caves in person was pretty remote. Well, it took a few years (more than a decade) but yesterday I made my most awesome dive ever, Diepolder's Cave....

For those of you who are not divers, Diepolder's Cave is located just south of Crystal River in Florida. It's located in the middle of the forest on a Boy Scout reservation. Driving down the winding dirt road past the entrance to the Boy Scout reservation you'll eventually find yourself coming upon a small opening in the woods. To the right you see a small pitiful looking pond covered with green scum. I remember thinking to myself, "This might not be worth all the hype." Of course I would have never said anything to my buddy Tim Bixler or our guide Rick Crawford, but I remember thinking that I hoped we hadn't just wasted a bunch of time and money. Later I'll feel pretty foolish for that thought.

Rick spent a few minutes going over a dive briefing telling us what to expect. He explained again what the profile would look like, and what our approximate run times would be. Rick was the perfect combination of very thorough and easy going. I couldn't have felt more confident in my choice dive buddy Tim or dive guide Rick. We finished our discussion and started gearing up.

We got in the water and started our descent. As soon as my head was underwater my attitude changed from, "I hope this isn't a waste of time" to "HOLY CRAP!!!" I wasn't even 2 feet from the surface and I was overwhelmed by what I was seeing. It was like seeing pictures of the Grand Canyon for many years then actually standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon. I was overwhelmed. And I was only 2' from the surface. I had a LONNNNGGGGG way to go still.

As I descended the first 80' it was like the ground had opened up. This small pond on the surface dropped down immediately into what looked like a giant funnel more than 150' from top to bottom. This funnel was made of white lime stone and even at 20 or 30 feet below the surface you could clearly see the formations of rock below you. Sadly, what we saw was indescribable. You'll really have to go see if for yourself. But I'll do my best to tell you what I witnessed. 

We made it to the bottom of the funnel (in cave diving we call it a chimney) and at about 180 feet we entered into this giant room. I'm not exactly certain of the dimensions, but if I had to guess conservatively it's about 600-800' long by about 300-400 feet wide and really stinkin' deep.

Rick attached a strobe light onto the gold line at the left, and then Tim and me started our trek into this giant room on the right. I looked at my computer and it read 180'. I kept watching the gold line which was getting deeper by the minute. I looked at my computer again and we past 190, 200, 210, 220.... I thought visibility was pretty good. I had a 35watt light and could easily see to the bottom. I'd guess the visibility was in the neighborhood of 70-100'. Our dive plan was to make a giant circle in this room staying on the gold line that would lead the way. When I got to the far end of the room I checked my computer again, 257'. The floor of the cave was easily another 50-70' below me. Down below us we could see slabs of rock big enough to park school buses on. There were boulders the size of houses. But what really intrigued me was the areas of broken rocks down there that looked like perfect little swim throughs under the rocks. 

We made the turn at the end of the room and started heading back toward the exit. Far off in the distance we could see Rick's strobe light flashing to mark our exit. It looked to be 600+ feet away. Looking at my computer it looked like our 20 minute dive would leave us with more than an hour of decompression. I know, that hardly seems fair right?

I tried to take in as much visually as I could. I knew we were only minutes away from our bottom time being over. I looked at sheer magnitude of the cave, the giant rocks, everything. I tried to remember the overwhelming feeling of awe, and the sense of accomplishment of this dive finally happening. Finally, I had to concede that there was just too much to see in 20 minutes. I will have to go back a few more dozen times.

It was an awesome dive. Thank you so much Rick and Tim for being there with me to make this a reality. You guys are the best. I look forward to doing it again with you.